#probably cause I don’t actually spend as much thought to papyrus than sans…

[sandeewithtwoe]

Fav papyrus au?

Oh man that’s hard to choose… handplates is probably my favourite, I adore how he’s written. Gosh, the whole handplates comic will always stay on my mind every once in a while.

But if I had to pick the one I have the most fun drawing, it would be Fell Paps, even though I have no idea what’s going on with his shoulder pads.

[zirkkun]

❤️ULR Speed Date Event Results - Part 5/5!💙

And, very unsurprisingly, Ace is in first place for the amount of submissions he received, that being 82! Due to the fact that there was so many submissions, he has a lot more I debated between (and even though one of these was a joke response... it was still pretty story worthy):

❤️ Ary 💙 dragon anon ❤️ din 💙 Vee ❤️ Yours~ 💙 ya know, nyah :3c ❤️ Chaomingo 💙 Lilianna ❤️ Orly

And last but not least is the winner of Ace’s date will be revealed. You can read the date either under read more or on AO3!

🖤--✨--❤️

Undertale (c) Toby Fox Underlust by @/nsfwshamecave Underlust Reimagine by myself

Thank you for your support, but do remember to support and read Underlust (18+) if you can!

ulr masterpost || ulr main tag || ulr ask box || ulr comic beginning || kofi?

... the anon who submitted under the name Lilianna!

❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙

Sans still didn't want to be a part of this. He didn't want to be doing this at all. But, unfortunately, his brother wouldn't take "hell no" for an answer. So now he was stuck on a date. With a human, no less. Oh joy. Despite the fact that living on the Surface was so saught after, he really wasn't finding it to be appealing.

At least, for the start of this, he was by himself. Maybe a long time ago, he would have been bothered by someone being late to an event like this, but for now, he was indulging in the silence.

She, Sans's date, decided that she wanted to meet at this park outside of the city, late at night, for a chance to watch the stars. Frankly, he didn't really care one way or another. But, he did eventually find himself standing at the ledge of a bridge, watching the stars twinkling in their reflection on a river. That and the dead silence, only bug noises chirping here and there; was shockingly more relaxing than Sans had anticipated it would be.

"There you are! Sorry I'm late!!"

And the relaxation was cut short. Oh well. Not that he didn't expect that.

Sans turned his attention towards the direction of the voice, spotting the human running up to him as fast as she could. Panting as she caught up to him on the bridge, she exclaimed, "I'm so, so sorry, things were backed up getting out of the city and --"

"i don't really care," Sans cut in. He turned his attention back to the river.

The human, a little taken aback, tried to brush over the harsh comment. She took a step towards the edge of bridge, holding on to the railing with a tight grip. The silence echoed in the park once more, but for the human, this was more awkward than anything else. She didn't really know what to say... is there a topic she knew offhand he'd be willing to discuss? Um... no, not really. 

"hey."

Oh! He said something first! "Yeah?" the human responded.

"do you think a fall from this height into the river would kill me?"

A brief moment of silence. It held both shock and interest from each halves of the conversation.

"What -- I don't know?! I don't really want to know!! That sounds painful regardless and I really don't want to find out!!"

But Sans just laughed at her sudden panic. "relax. i was joking."

"Th... that's a bit of a dark joke, don't you think?"

He shrugged. "It happens." He didn't elaborate, leaving the silence to once again consume the conversation into nothing. The human shifted uncomfortably where she stood.

She debated back and forth on another topic to talk about. Anything to ease the tension -- especially since it got worse with his topic of choice.

"Um... so, on that form thing, you asked me about stuff I like to do... but what about stuff you like to do?" she prompted, hoping it wouldn't be another dark joke response.

"hm." Sans pondered the question for a while, not really knowing what to say. When's the last time he did something he liked doing? Probably when he was working with the other Royal Scientists. Which was over ten years ago. "i dunno," he answered instead. "haven't done anything just 'cause in a long time."

"Oh." The human frowned. "Well, maybe we could do something together sometime then, and you can find a new hobby? Only if you'd like, of course."

Sans raised a brow as he flicked his gaze to her. "like what?"

"Oh, um... well, I like to bake, draw, and read... but those are all pretty boring so maybe not those..." she responded sheepishly.

Sans didn't react negatively, but he wasn't exactly enthusiastic either. He's practically read every book from the Underground cover-to-cover with how much time he's had on his hands, and his drawing skills were... not to be admired. And Papyrus has always been on his case to eat more. So... "i dunno, baking?" he blurted.

The human blinked. "As in, you'd want to do some baking together?"

"yeah, sure, whatever."

"You really don't sound all that interested."

"i'm not interested in most things, what's your point?"

The human shuffled back into silence for a brief while as she herself started to stare at the river, her eyes trailing down the reflection until they met the sky, full of crystal-clear stars. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she added. "I know you're already... not super excited about this current date, so please don't feel like you have to force yourself further."

Ah. There it was. The same kind of consideration that made him pick this person over everyone else in the first place. Some people had acknowledged him not wanting to deal with this, but their responses were things like, "Then why be here?" which only irked him enough to toss them aside. Some disacknowledged it, which he prefered, but something about when she said... "You seem like you don't want to do this anyways, which is all good," really hit him in a way he didn't expect.

Sans, however, did not even consider responding out loud, and instead just pulled his scarf up tighter on his face. Sans? Being honest and clear with his emotions? Haha. How funny. Easier to just push them aside. A void of feeling is much easier to deal with.

Well, he did give a sort of grunt of acknowledgment to her comment. But... it was really far after she'd said anything. So she thought he was prompting something new.

"What's that?" she asked.

"nothing."

"Then...?" But the human just shook her head. Maybe talk about something else. "You know..." She'd started a sentence, but didn't actually have anything to say. In a frantic moment to try and finish what she'd started, she said, "Time is a precious thing, isn't it?"

There was a pause.

"what'd'ya mean?" Sans asked.

"We only get so much of it. It's so limited and can be taken from us in a second."

"... yeah, and?"

"I just... I like spending time with people," she finalized. "There's only so much time I have available, and I want to be able to spend as much of it as I can with people I care about and doing things I've wanted to do. Thinking about it all is a bit scary sometimes..."

Sans debated the crass comment of "so what you're saying is i should leave and do something i'd rather be doing," but he figured now was not the time for something like that. He waited a moment to see if the human had more to say about the topic, but when she didn't, he decided to jump in with his own response. "worrying about what you might lose out on is kinda pointless," he said bluntly. "sometimes shit ain't gonna work out, and you'll miss out on something you'd have rather wanted. sometimes people are taken away from you when you least expect it and you're left wondering if you did enough for them or with them. but it's not the end of the world. you've gotta just work with what you're dealt with."

The human didn't expect such a long, nor deep, reply from him, and was a little taken aback by it. While these may have been things said before, or maybe she'd even considered them, it was different to hear them coming from someone who two seconds ago wanted to jump off the bridge. Frankly... does that mean she should take his words with a grain of salt, or...?

"sorry," Sans blurted. "said more than i shoulda."

"Wh -- n-no, don't worry about that!! I just... didn't expect you to have a lot to say on the topic. Or, I guess, to really reply lengthy at all. But it's okay! I'm glad you let me hear your thoughts."

He pulled his scarf tighter as he grunted a response, staring still at the reflection in the river.

[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!

[skelebonecentral]

Hothouse Rose chapter 6

Gotta get that last Fell boy into shape!

(words under cut) And remember, the pictures for the Lust boys are all six up on my main undertale blog.

Whip stared at his brother.

“AND TELL ME AGAIN WHY YOU’RE IN MY ROOM, GLARING LIKE I MELTED YOUR WHOLE SHOP?”

“cause ya ain’t actin’ like part of the family anymore and I wanna know why.” Spice was leaning back against Whip’s door, blocking all exit. “ever since baby doll came, you’ve been sulkin’ and hidin’ from’em and I don’t appreciate it. I know ya ain’t a coward, so what is it?”

Whip’s skull began to color in anger, standing to his full height, “BECAUSE THAT HUMAN IS NOT GOING TO LAST. I’VE SEEN THE HUMANS AROUND HERE, AND NONE OF THEM WOULD ACCEPT US IF THEY KNEW THE FULL EXTENT OF WHO AND WHAT WE ARE. THEIR URGES ARE TAMPED DOWN WITH IRON RODS AND CLOSED OFF EXCEPT FOR THE MOST TABOO AND PRIVATE MOMENTS. OR IN OPEN DISPLAYS IN THE SEEDY UNDERBELLY OF THEIR WORLD AND THOSE WHO PARTICIPATE OFTEN END UP DEAD.”

“I know that.” Spice was unmoved by this aggressive display. He was not afraid of his baby brother. “I’ve done my research on what gettin’ my shop going up here would entail, an’ it wasn’t pretty. but bro, just cause it’s private for them don’t mean they ain’t capable of openin’ up. just gotta work harder for it.”

Whip’s hands were gripped into fists, and even though he was looking down, Spice noticed his gaze was on the floor next to him, not on himself, “AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN ONE OF THOSE FRIVOLOUS OTHERS FALLS FOR THEM? OR GETS THE INTEREST FOR A ROMP, HM? WHAT THEN?”

“apparently that already happened today. Boa. Baby doll got embarrassed but they’re still pals.”

Whip flinched hearing that, his glare getting more intense, “SO YOU’RE SAYING THEY AREN’T GOING TO TURN ON US? THAT I’M BEING RIDICULOUS?”

“no, I’m sayin’ you don’t need to try an’ protect yourself so hard.” Spice sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, “bro, you usually aren’t closed off like this with people you don’t trust. You’re good at making them think you like’em so they slip up. why are ya actin’ like a frightened cat? All puffed up and angry?”

Whip’s sockets were filling with red magic, “BECAUSE AT LEAST IF I KEEP THEM AWAY IT WON’T HURT HAVING TO LEAVE.”

“there’s the issue,” Spice walked over to where Whip was shaking in place, quickly putting his arms around him, “ya do like ‘em, then?”

“YES.” The answer was wet and miserable, “THEY’RE EVERYTHING PAPYRUS SAID, AND EVEN WITH SUGAR BEING CAUTIOUS, I CAN’T FIND A REASON NOT TO. SANS…” Whip slowly collapsed to his knees and held Spice tight, “I’ve…I’ve never been so close to someone who actually met my standards. They’re kind, and they care about our alternates, and they’re smart, and funny and beautiful and…Sans, I’m so scared to let myself go because we’re going to lose them.”

Spice rubbed his back gently, “I know, bro. but that’s why we gotta try an’ enjoy it, right? when we’re back in that shithole, we gotta have memories to get us through. Cause what good is it pushin’ away good things just cause they won’t last? Just means you spend more time bein’ sad than ya had ta.”

“I don’t know if my soul can take it, though,” Whip whined, hiding his sockets against Spice’s shoulder. “You know how lonesome it was at home and finding someone like y/n here…it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I found an angel and have to give them up.”

“y’know I understand that, probably better than most,” Spice gave his back a pat, making him let loose so he could sit down, “bro, I get it, but like I said, enjoy it while we can. cause once it’s gone, we ain’t gettin’ another chance.”

Whip sat next to him on the bed and leaned over, head on his shoulder, “You’re right, as usual, brother. I just…I’m used to causing pain, not feeling it. It’s difficult to manage.”

“yeah. but you can do it. I know ya can. cause I’ll be right with ya the whole time.”

After a while, just the slow hum of Whip’s computer and the breeze outside, Whip asked, “What did it feel like when you got to hold them, Sans?”

“real nice,” Spice purred a bit, “their whole body is soft, bro. hair, skin, hands, all pillows. Ehehe, they’d be mad if I said that to’em, though. they’re workin’ with their buddies and pap to get in shape. Spend half an hour outside every afternoon with’em in their leggings and sport top. Nice ta watch.”

Whip nodded, “And do they mind flirtations too much?”

“they’re gettin’ better about it, but you still have ta be careful how far ya go. don’t get all out explicit, but suggestive is fine. They actually shot one back at Sugar yesterday, even if it was kinda weak.”

“Good.” He took a deep breath and sighed as he let it out, “I’m going to try to amend my mistake of avoiding them, but it’ll take some time. Please keep me from making an ass of myself anymore.”

“I’ll try, but I dunno much about donkeys,” Spice quipped, only to get pushed onto the bed as Whip got up in irritation. “ehehehe, sorry, bro, but you walked inta that one.”

“I DID AND I HATE IT.”

--

You were in the kitchen, eating breakfast after waking up late on a rare Friday holiday when Whip walked in. Normally, he’d instantly walk back out looking frustrated, but today he stayed.

It was weird, and you watched as he walked to the fridge, got a bottle of a chocolate protein drink, and sat down near you.

“HUMAN, I….HMGH,” he started, picking at the wrapper on the outside of his drink till he could get the lit loose, “Y/N. I’VE BEEN…COLD TO YOU, TO SAY THE LEAST.”

“Yes.” Where is he going with this?

“I THOUGHT…WELL, I SHOULD EXPLAIN WHY. OR AT LEAST APOLOGIZE FOR IT.” He grimaced while he searched for the words, “I SIMPLY WAS AFRAID OF GETTING HURT WHEN OR IF WE SHOULD EVER PART WAYS. BECAUSE I HONESTLY…I’VE WANTED TO MEET SOMEONE LIKE YOU FOR A VERY LONG TIME AND IT MADE ME FEEL PANICKED. LIKE…FINALLY GETTING TO MEET YOUR FAVORITE CELEBRITY BUT AS YOU NEAR THE STAGE DOOR YOU BOLT. YOU’RE AFRAID THE REALITY WON’T LIVE UP TO THE DREAM AND IF IT DOES THEN YOU FEAR THE PAIN OF THE MEETING BEING OVER.”

That was not what you expected as his reasoning. Pride, specist thoughts, a general dislike of new people, something like that, but not…this. “I do understand your reference, but I’m still kind of shocked you’re even talking to me at all right now.”

“I UNDERSTAND.” He sighed, taking a long drink from his bottle. “I JUST WANTED TO…WELL, TO TRY AND FIX THINGS. I HAD TO ADMIT WHAT I WAS THINKING TO MY BROTHER AND THAT FINALLY GOT ME THINKING ABOUT…HOW UNFAIR IT WAS TO BE ANGRY WITH YOU FOR BEING YOURSELF. I HAD NO RIGHT, AND IT’S KIND OF STUPID NOW THAT I PUT IT IN WORDS. GOOD GRIEF.”

“How about,” you hold out your hand, smiling, “we start over? Hi, my name is Y/n. I’m Sans and Papyrus’ datemate and I’d like to stay in the house for the foreseeable future.”

He looked at your hand, then his shoulders relaxed and his sharp smile turned soft, “MY NAME IS WHIP, IT’S A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU AT LAST.” He shook your hand, “I’D BE HAPPY TO HAVE SOMEONE SO BELOVED BY MY COUSINS STAY WITH US.”

A pool of warmth dropped into your chest at the relief you knew was a mutual experience. You no longer had an enemy in your home, and the comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your respective sustenance was very rewarding.

--

“Sugar, please,” Charm rubbed his sockets, “I’m trying to plan a fun night out for us all, and your pessimism is ruining it.”

“no, I’m seriously worried. Have you not felt the energy change? Somebody’s doing something and it’s none of us.”

“I felt it and I know exactly what happened, but I’m not telling you because it’s none of your business.” Charm kept clicking from one page to another, looking at options.

“what?”

“You heard me. You do realize there is a loving trio in this house, yes? That it’s not just us and the others from similar universes?” Charm swiveled his chair and looked fully at his brother, “Sans, sometimes your anxiety makes you act like a prick.”

Sugar winced, deflating. “oh. yeah. guess I overstepped again.”

“Yes, you did.” Charm pushed his chair over and poked Sugar in the chest, “but I will remind you again. I love you. I want what is best for everyone here. And I am not some babybones who is naïve about the complexities of relationships. It’s just things are tilted differently here, and yes, that was hard to get used to, but it can be done. And besides,” He smiled, “We’re all going out for Halloween. I need to make sure we go somewhere fun since it’s Y/n’s favorite holiday and Papyrus’ birthday.”

Sugar sighed, “okay. okay, maybe you’re right. and sansy’s been trying to get me to lighten up too, so…” He sat on the floor before laying out like a star, “if sweet-pea can trust them enough to cuddle again, I guess I can try to, too.”

“Bully for you!” Charm smiled, going back to his computer. “And Sweet-pea will be here at the house with our candy bowl, so he will get a costume as well.”

“he’s actually going to greet the trick or treaters?”

“Yes! He’s been doing very well since he started opening up more.” Charm double clicked something and absently scanned the text that popped up, “He’s started sitting on the deck with us while we do our yoga and Sansy is seeing if he can set up video chat conferences with a therapist for him. Apparently, humans get this kind of anxiety too. It’s called agoraphobia.”

Sugar nodded, kind of surprised. Sweet-pea was going outside? Willingly? That was definitely a good thing, no arguing that, and…well, he was getting tired of being jumpy about the human all the time, if he was being honest.

--

You were a little shy about it, but Boa and Sweet-pea were both bustling around you in Sweet-pea’s room. They were re-taking your measurements to make sure they were accurate for your costume. You hadn’t had a good idea for a costume, but Papyrus had proposed it being a surprise that they chose for you. Sweet-pea had volunteered to make the design, and you’d been excited to see what he’d do. So far, he’d made you a nightgown that made you feel very ethereal any time you wore it, but he’d been too busy with commissions and orders to do anything else till now.

“I take a break every October,” he told you, sketching away, “it lets me have down time to recover and do whatever things I’d like otherwise.”

Boa was very fast with the measuring tape, barely touching it to your body as you stood in a shirt and shorts.

You felt the goosebumps going over your scalp as they worked, just like at the doctor’s office, and felt that strange far away feeling that went with them.

“Pumpkin,” Boa spoke, standing with his tape, “have you ever been fitted properly for your foundations?” He seemed puzzled as he looked you over. “I just want to make sure you’re as comfortable as you can be. Bad support can cause back pain, you know.”

You hadn’t known. “No, I haven’t. What would you have to do?”

Sweet-pea looked up, “just measure around your chest do some more close measurements of your pelvis area. It doesn’t take long. Last time he fitted someone it only took him two and a half minutes. But…uh… you will have to undress. Dunno if you’re up to that or not.”

Boa blushed, but nodded, looking away. “It’s up to you. You’re going to look ravishing either way, but it’s just been bugging me since we went shopping that first day. You deserve to be comfortable…”

It took a moment, as you thought it out. Two and a half minutes, hm? And you trusted them both, at least as much as you trusted the classmates you’d changed in the bathrooms with at choir competitions in high school. Quite a bit more, now that you’re thinking about it, “I think we can do it. It would be nice to know for my next shopping trip.”

Both of them perked up, and you steeled yourself as you undressed down to nothing. Boa’s eye lights shone bright and wide, and you saw the glow start at his throat, but he shook his head and smiled, “I’ll be quick. Thank you for letting me help you!”

True to his word, Boa went fast, around your chest, from your collar to your nipple, and around the area under your breasts. “That’s that, thirty-four triple d, Sweet-pea.”

“thought so.” The younger brother wrote it down somewhere on his sketch pad, but he was still going, “I know someone who would kill for that size for her bleach cosplays.”

You tilted your head and he smiled, “Somebody I know at home. She’s almost as bad as Alphys about anime, but likes JUMP stuff more.”

“Ah, okay.” You were focusing on anything other than Boa being between your legs with his tape, going quickly over your thighs, around your butt, and gently pressing the end of the tape to your core and going up a ways before snapping back and listing off his findings. “Well, that was fast.”

“three minutes. A little slower, but we’ve never measured a human before.”

Boa nodded and handed you your things, “We have everything we need to make you the best costume and find the best things on our shopping trips now.” There was blush on his cheekbones, and his smile was very soft, making your own cheeks heat more.

“Thank you for being fast with it. I’m not exactly used to being naked in front of other people.” You hurry to get your clothes back on, even as you hear something in an almost electronic voice. “Huh?”

Boa blushed, “Um, sorry. I slipped into Wingdings for a moment. I ah…I was saying we were lucky to get a glimpse at such a rare treasure as your body.”

Sweet-pea snorted and giggled, “that’s what he said literally, but wingdings is a monster language, so you don’t get any of the cute undertones and intents that went with it in English. you do look nice, though.”

“You boys are going to be the death of me. I’m going to die of flattery,” You had scrunched up your face from how hot it got, and huffed as you pulled your shirt back on, “and then Papy and Sans will be widowers.”

“You’d have to marry them for that,” Boa smirked a bit.

“smartaleck” you stuck your tongue out at him and walked to the door, “You’re both lucky I love you.”

“we love you, too, y/n.” Sweet-pea poked Boa, who just waved at you.

You shake your head and leave.

As soon as the door shut, Boa’s whole skull exploded in color and he jerked his scarf off as the jewel below burst into brilliant light. “Oh my stars, I’m going to keel over! Humans smell so different and it’s GOOD and they’re so amazing already and then just! Naked right in front of me! ack!”

Sweet-pea chuckled, blushing a bit, “they were lovely. And those hips….gosh, I know kids aren’t the end all be all up here but they look like they could carry so well…”

“I know!” Boa groaned, rubbing the heels of his hands into his closed sockets, “How does Papyrus just have them as his datemate and not keep them in the bedroom all day?”

“He’s just not turned like us, bro,” Sweet-pea sighed, “but I’m glad they’re at least happy with each other. You could smell him on them as soon as the layers came off.”

Boa finally seemed to calm down as the glow in his gem dimmed, “That was reassuring. Now we’re sure they’re not hurting themselves with repression or anything.”

“pretty sure it’s only us that need that regular release for health,” Sweet-pea mumbled. “humans don’t get heats, much less be in one all the time.”

“That still is amazing to me. And there’s so many of them even so! But then again, they are mammals that care for their young a long time. it’s only natural most of their offspring live.”

Sweet-pea laughed, “you should never have dropped out of zoology, bro. you’d have been a great professor.”

“I’ll be a better guardsman slash radio host!” Boa shot back, getting up. “Now, as soon as you have the design ready, bring it to me. We’re going to make the others drop their jaws to the floor.”

“and all in a human-friendly fashion. Gonna be fun,” Sweet-pea waved his brother off, and got down to work. He was going to make the rest of the world see exactly what Y/n was to their household.

--

Whip was uncomfortable. Not because he didn’t participate in the pillow cuddling normally, because he had before the human had come. No, it was because said human had chosen to sit beside him in the pile. He was still jumpy around them, even if he knew they were on much better terms after his apology.

It didn’t help that Spice was on their other side and snoring so loud he could hardly hear.

“MAY I PLEASE WAKE HIM UP TO STOP THAT RACKET?”

“No, Whip, don’t wake him. He’s actually not trying to fluster me when he’s sleeping,” says the human, looking fondly at Spice. Well, they did have a point. “Here, let me try shifting him a bit.”

Interested, he watched as you gently shifted Spice’s head back, and his brother’s raucous snores quieted to gentle, soft vibrations.

“HOW DID YOU DO THAT?”

“Snoring in humans is caused by some weird blockages in the throat. I figured, if he’s snoring because of his ecto always being on, maybe doing what helps a human would help him.” You continue to intrigue him in the most unexpected ways.

--

Boa had been almost giddy in his sexy nurse costume when he handed you a bundle on Halloween at noon, “Here, Pumpkin, it’s your costume. Go put it on, hurry!”

Sweet-pea was behind him, a very normal looking scarecrow costume decorating his form, beaming in pride, “if you need help, just holler.”

Curious, you went to back into your room (you’d been leaving it to ask about just this) and opened the bundle. A beautiful Grecian dress, creamy white with golden clasps, lay in a cloud of feathers with a set of very soft, cottony underwear. The ease with which those went on surprised you, and the lifting of the weight of your chest from your back made your eyes widen. “Oh.” Boa had been incredibly accurate in that the wrong underthings could make you hurt.

The dress slipped on, as did a pair of delicate sheer white hose, and some golden sandals. The feathers, you realize, are wings that loop onto the clasps on your shoulders and attach to the golden rope around your waist. You actually get them on yourself, and when you pick up the little harp and halo that were hidden underneath, you grin. “An angel, huh?”

Everything fit like a glove, comfortable but flattering as you exited and came down the stairs. Charm saw you first and gasped, “Oh! Sweetheart, that’s gorgeous, but here, come with me.” He had that sneaky look when he was going to try and goad you or Sans and Papyrus into doing something romantic, but instead of taking you to them, he took you to a room under the stairs that you’d never bothered to investigate. It was like a dressing room in a theater, with lights and make up and wigs of all kinds.

“Welcome to my studio! On of the things I learned from my bestie underground is that half of an outfit is made by your make-up. Let me take you from a ten to an eleven.” He sat you down and gently removed the golden circlet of your halo, setting it down on the vanity. “Now, monster make-up is a lot different than human in that it doesn’t take five hours to do! So, I’m going to turn you around, and in thirty minutes you’ll be the belle of the Halloween ball.”

You only had a brief glimpse of your reflection (thankfully) before the chair was turned and Charm got to work. Smooth, cool creams were dabbed onto your face by his clearly practiced hands, having taken of his gloves to do this. It was kind of hard to keep from laughing, as he’d already made himself up and was wearing a rainbow afro and a red nose on top of his pure white face, blue eye circles, and big red mouth decorations. He was a very colorful clown, and the first clown you’d ever been happy to see.

Charm had his tongue stuck out while he worked, and you just couldn’t help yourself. You reached up and poked it with your finger. “Boop.”

He squinted his sockets and made a short noise that sounded like laughter, then gently told you off, “Don’t boop the beautician, sweet thing. It’s not polite.”

“But you’re my bestie first,” you point out, and his smile grows.

“I know.” He brushes his teeth against your forehead gently, “Now let me work my magic, quite literally.”

You giggle quietly, and he hums, using a puff to place powder over the creams.

He then goes around you and gently begins coming through your hair, adding some things to it as well, “When this is done, sweetie, it’s going to just be you with some polish. You’re always this lovely to us, it’ll just be enough magic to let others and you see what we see every day.”

“Are you sure?” Yes, you’d been pleased with the little bit of change you’d seen in your clothes since starting your daily yoga, but you still felt…gross.

“Oh, I’d put my soul on it.” He squeezed your shoulder gently before returning to his work on your hair, “Papyrus and Sans think you hung the moon, Y/n. And I’d put money on Boa thinking the same. Sweet-pea trusts you more than he’s trusted anyone outside the family, ever. Whip even let his pride go and started to get to know you. That means something.”

“And you and Sugar? Spice?”

“Oh Y/n, I can’t even put into words what you mean to me.” His voice was so soft and full of love, you couldn’t even imagine what his expression was, “and my brother is slowly letting go of his fears. He’ll understand your magnificence when he does. “ A snort of wry laughter, “And Spice would have you be his own private teddy bear if it was up to him.”

You giggle thinking about that. Since he’d gotten over your mutual miscommunication, Spice had been the ultimate cuddlebug when he felt he could be. Which was most of the time. Not that you minded, he was warm, and the thick ecto he always wore was soft and comfy. Plus, you liked his voice. It was different than the others, like Whip’s in that it was gravelly, but smoother underneath, carrying a sweetness you liked.

“Let me paint your nails, and then we’ll be done.” Charm squatted in front of you and took a bottle of what looked like clear nail polish out. He thought for a moment, then nodded, a zap of pink magic infusing the bottle and turning the polish inside gold. “That should be the right color. A touch of Midas, hm?” He beamed at his reference, and you nodded.

You used the time to talk about a movie you saw once, of people trying to gain an item related to King Midas, and Charm suggested you find it online and the family could watch it next weekend. After all, after your group returned from the Halloween carnival, you all would be watching Halloween themed cartoons and family movies (because Papyrus, Sweet-pea, and Boa preferred not to watch horror films) while eating whatever candy remained after the trick-or-treaters.

Looking at your fingernails, not only were they shimmering as if they were covered in liquid gold, but they were perfectly shaped and the cuticles that were normally rough were smoothed down. “Wow! How did you do that with just polish?”

“It’s the magic in the polish.” Charm finished your toes and returned the brush to the bottle, “The polish is just there to change color according to my intent. I needed it gold, and I wanted your nails to be healthy and beautiful, so the magic did the rest. Even after we take the polish off, you’ll still keep the healthy nails underneath. Also, it’s instant dry, too.”

He looked you over one last time and nodded, “Alright, are you ready?”

When you said yes, he placed the halo back on your head and turned you around. You almost burst into tears right there. Your hair was laying around your face in elegant waves, framing it perfectly and without frizz for the first time in your life. And your face, it was exactly what Charm had said. It was you, but your skin was evenly colored instead of blotchy, the texture was smooth and uniform, every pore was clean and tiny. Your eyelashes and brows were present instead of faded out like they usually were, and all signs of the flaky dermatitis that had plagued you since your teenage years was gone from them.

“I’m…..Charm, you did…” you just looked over at him, the water dripping out of your eyes without you even blinking to free it. “It’s wonderful.”

“Just a little MTT Beauty Butter and the intent to clean and heal. The rest is all how your body naturally wants to be. It loves you, just as we do, and wants you to be happy and healthy. It just needed a little boost, now and again, is all.” He helps you to your feet, taking a nearby box of tissues and using them to gently dry your tears. “Now you can see yourself as the angel we know you are.”

You just hug him, far beyond words.

He strokes your head gently, waiting for you to recover before saying, “Now, we should get to the living room to meet up with the others and head for the carnival.”

You felt like you were walking on air as he led you out of the make up room and down the hall to the living room.

The banter had started already, “SANS, WHY DO YOU INSIST ON LAZINESS? IT’S OUR FIRST HALLOWEEN WITH Y/N IN THE HOUSE AND YOU JUST….THAT?!”

Entering, you saw Papyrus dressed as Superman, cape and spandex in red, blue, and yellow, and Sans was wearing a black, cat-ear headband taped to his skull, with black whiskers drawn on his cheekbones sloppily, all with his normal clothes.

Sugar, as a sexy witch, is standing with his broom in a corner, laughing behind his hand next to pirate-captain Spice, long coat sweeping his brown boots and black hat sporting a big maroon feather. Whip was dressed as a classic Devil, though he’d exchanged the red onesie for a bright red business suit. Boa and Sweet-pea were on the couch, chatting.

Charm cleared his throat and that got everyone’s attention, and you were feeling quite small as they all looked at you.

Whip’s eye lights went out, and you noticed a bright glow in the left leg of his pants. Oh no…oh no you’d made him uncomfortable. “I-I didn’t pick this out but…I’m sorry.”

Spice came over, taking your hands in his (where did he find all those rings?), “don’t apologize, baby doll. You’re beautiful. Sweet-pea an’ Boa done good. you too, charm, cause I know baby doll don’t do make-up like that.”

“Bu-but-“

“no buts,” Sans shortcutted next to you and beamed, “you look perfect. We’re going to be the envy of everybody. Though, as an angel, you probably don’t like that, do you?” He winked and you smiled. You couldn’t help yourself if Sans was making jokes.

Papyrus strode over and knelt in front of you, making everyone step aside for him, “AS A SUPERHERO, I WILL WORK VERY HARD TO DO GOOD, SO THAT I MAY GET VISITS FROM THIS UNEARTHLY VISION OF LOVELINESS AGAIN!” He was sparkling -literally-, cheeks flushed orange, as he looked up at you.

“Papyrus, you can see me anytime.”

“I KNOW, BUT YOU LOOK EXACTLY LIKE A MESSENGER FROM HEAVEN RIGHT NOW! THE PICTURE OF THE DELTARUNE’S PREDICTED SAVIOR!” He frowned and got up, “THOUGH, THAT ACTUALLY TURNED OUT TO BE FRISK, SO YOU’RE THEIR COUSIN. BUT STILL!”

Sugar flounced over in the short skirt and tights that were wrapped around his bones, “ooh, our little y/n has graduated from pretty to gorgeous.”

Charm rolled his eye lights, but Boa and Sweet-pea rushed over before he could fire back at his brother.

“Oh, Y/n, it’s absolutely perfect. I was worried about the top of the dress but it’s laying fabulously,” Boa cooed, proud of his work.

“you look just like I thought you would,” Sweet-pea gave a small laugh, “though, turns out real life is better than imagination in this case. Thanks, charm, for finishing off the look.”

“Oh it was my pleasure, believe me,” Charm actually honked his nose, revealing it to be a prop horn, “I might be a clown tonight, but I am a chivalrous guard first and helping our dear Y/n shine their brightest is the least I could do.”

You were blushing so hard, but Papyrus gently scooped you out of the crowd, “NOW LET’S GET GOING TO THE CARNIVAL. I WANT EVERYONE TO ADMIRE OUR ANGEL BEFORE THEY GET TOO FLUSTERED AND MUSS THEIR MAKE-UP!”

There was a murmur of agreement, and as you left the house, you waved goodbye to Sweet-pea, who was beaming as he closed the door.

[songfell-ut]

Chapter 3, still a-comin’

Cirumstances, am I right, folks?

If you didn’t make it through Chapter 2 or this is all 100% new, welp, this is a continuation of this comic by @lostmypotatoes, after which Frisk has gotten him to be her witchly apprentice, but now he’s trying to flake on her. ACTION

Sans was getting soft in his old age, or maybe from proximity to someone as aggressively good-hearted as the High Priestess, because he found he didn't want to demolish the entire wall. For one thing, without his magic, it'd be too much effort. More importantly, though, Frisk's rooms were many, many stories above the ground, and falling masonry could kill or injure someone below who hadn't earned it. Most important of all: Frisk would probably end up trying to help dig them out and put herself in danger.

He also figured that he had time to do things neatly and cost her less in repairs. Everything had been loosened by that first colossal blow, but he had to give it a few more whacks before he could start pulling it apart, making a pile of glass shards, wood paneling, bricks and stones in front of her office. Luckily, whoever had constructed the outside wall hadn't done a great job, or else it would've taken him all night. A carefully judged body-slam was enough to weaken the remaining support structures; a few kicks and a yank created a space big enough for the giant skeleton to squeeze through, and then he could see the barrier itself.

Panting, Sans took a moment to survey his handiwork. It sucked to exert himself like that, but he figured that sometimes in life, you just had to punch things until they broke.

Unfortunately, he didn't have that option with the barrier. The old stories came back to him as he stared at the golden latticework hovering outside the ruined wall. How was he going to get through without touching it directly or throwing something big enough to hurt someone below?

His eyes fell on the worktable and the vials of stuff he'd made this afternoon. Four hadn't been infused yet. Sans grabbed one, pulled off the cork and, with a speck of magic, willed the liquid to boil, burn, dissolve anything it touched. It promptly began to fizzle and hiss in his hand, and he had to fling it away like an idiot before it started eating through his metacarpals.

He did one thing right in throwing it at the barrier, which instantly melted and let the chilly night air wash over him. Outside, moonlight shadowed the bricks of a nearby wall that stretched almost all the way to the ground, ending in the roof of a building only a couple stories high. He could hop out, grab onto the brick edifice, climb down safely and be gone before Frisk even got back up here, never mind moving the statue and getting the doors open. From there, it'd only be a matter of time before his magic regenerated and he could take a shortcut home.

Poor Frisk. She'd tried. Hell, she'd survived his murder attempts and taught him a few things, and he'd never forget her.

Anyway, she was better off losing track of him and finding a smaller, tamer monster to work with. What was she even getting from him being here, besides a hell of a lot of trouble?

The question was supposed to be rhetorical, but as if in reply, he thought of Frisk standing at the worktable with her arm up those ridiculously oversized trousers, grinning and saying, "The pleasure of your company," looking up at him like...well, like he was her friend, not an inferior or a dangerous monster or a giant pain in the ass, pun absolutely intended. Of course, it wasn't as if she had many other friends, but he couldn't tell himself that she was just using a captive freak to keep her company; he already knew her too well for that.

This, right here. This was why he needed to leave now. The skeleton took a few steps back, gauging the distance to—

Whhhsh went something in his mental ear. He jerked around to see Frisk standing half in his shadow, half in the moonlight, with her veil in her hand and absolute murder in her eye. "Sans." It was a whisper, lost in the wind.

Shit fuck shit shit shiiiiiiit fuckity fuck SHIT rang in his head as the satchel hit the floor. "Frisk?" he whispered.

Frisk beckoned him closer with one finger. Unbelieving, he knelt, and she punched him so hard that he almost felt it. "Here is what's going happen," she said as he touched his jaw. "I assume you've blocked the doors, so you will go and unblock them, and I'll tell the guard that you were—we'll say you were fighting off an assassin, and everyone will be impressed when they see how much damage you did trying to kill him before he escaped. Won't they?"

Sans nodded helplessly. "How...how'd you...?"

"How did I get here?" She tossed the veil aside, letting it drift to the floor. "Let me tell you a story, Sans. Once upon a time – yesterday morning – I had a long talk with Dr. Serif. He said you probably didn't intend to stay for a whole month, and I needed to be on my guard, just in case you decided to pull a stunt like this. I didn't want to believe him, but I followed his advice, and lo and behold, less than a week later, I caught my lying, backstabbing apprentice trying to break his word because he was apparently too bored with me to waste time learning crucial information for the survival of his entire race! The end!"

Frisk had to pause for breath. The boss monster took great exception to that last accusation, and he doubted that was actually the end of the story, but he was afraid to interrupt. "Do you see this?" she continued. Sans flinched as the tiny woman ripped off her brooch and brandished it at him. "Dr. Serif brought it yesterday afternoon. It seems he'd taken some of your magic while you were unconscious, and not only did he refuse to return it to you, he said I couldn't be here every hour of the day, and I needed to have this if you ever tried to break loose. He infused it with enough of your power to teleport myself one time." Another deep breath. "Do you have any idea how angry I am that he was right, and I was right to listen? And do you know how sick to my stomach I feel right now?!" Frisk threw the brooch to the floor, where it shattered. The last bit of magic quietly evaporated, and she pressed the back of her hand to her lips, eyes unfocusing. "And...how do you stand—"

There it was. He couldn't believe it had taken this long to catch up with her—the first time he'd tried using a shortcut, it left him feeling like his head had been screwed on backwards.

The skeleton glanced at the open, crumbling wall, then at Frisk, who was leaning heavily on the worktable, eyes closed. Then...

The priestess squeaked as Sans swept her up into the crook of his arm and headed to the bathroom. "Put me down!" she croaked, thumping his clavicle.

"Yes, m'lady," he said, opening the door, poking the light on and placing her at the very back of the room. "Go for it."

Once she was settled and could puke in relative peace, Sans went to the double doors leading into the hall, replaced the statue in its niche, and headed back to the workroom. Her office door was blocked by the many chunks of wall piled in front of it, and moving them again would take effort, so the skeleton ignored it for now. He picked up the satchel and set it on the worktable, wondering if the wind was too cold for her and how, exactly, he was going to pay for this, in every sense of the word. After one more look outside, Sans made himself tiptoe back to the bathroom and ask, "You done?"

There was a pause, the sound of water running, and a much longer pause before she opened the door and stared up at him. "What are you still doing here?" she demanded.

Sans blinked at her, mostly for effect. "'Zat a trick question? I'm makin' sure you're okay. That magic can knock you on your ass the first couple times ya try it."

Her face tightened, a hard, bitter expression that probably shouldn't have surprised him. "You don't say." She turned her head to cough, resting her forehead on the tile wall. "Congratulations to you, Sans. I'm here, but I'm in no condition to do anything. Your plan worked after all." She pushed herself upright.  "Good night."

Shit. "Uh...Frisk—"

The priestess walked right by to open the double doors. He heard her exclaim something about the guard not being there, and mutter that she'd deal with it in the morning. She barred the doors shut, which he hadn't even noticed was an option, and wobbled past him into her dressing room, evading his halfhearted attempt to steady her.

Hangers rattled. There was an occasional sniffle. When Frisk came out in a long crushed-velvet robe, she actually looked offended to see him. "Don't you have somewhere to be? I said good night, Sans."

Wasn't she going to at least try to stop him? Sure, she was sick and exhausted, but where was her determination? ...Was she so upset that she was determined to cut her losses and let him go?

That really seemed to be it. Well, Sans should have been elated, but he mostly just felt insulted. Besides, he couldn't leave until they got a few things straight, or else he'd spend the rest of his life trying not to think about it. The boss monster wracked his brain for a witty yet conciliatory opener, but what came out was "You're not boring."

A blast of wind howled through the room, flipping the lighter books open and ruffling the weighed-down stacks of paper. Frisk remained stock-still as her short, wavy hair fluttered across her face. "I beg your pardon," she said, colder than the autumn air.

"Okay, yeah, I admit it. I was gonna ditch ya," he said desperately. "But it wasn't 'cause I don't like you or I don' care about helping the other monsters. I—you remember all you heard about Papyrus, right?" Her expression softened a little as she nodded. "I had a dream about him last night that I'm pretty sure was real. Me bein' gone and him not knowin' I'm okay is killing him, Frisk. I can't..."

She stayed silent as Sans pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. It had been so long since he'd told someone the entire truth that he felt completely exposed. It was scary as hell, but he owed it to her and to Pap. "Ya gotta understand," he mumbled. "My brother's all I got left, and I'm all he's got. You've been nothin' but fair to me, and it's not yer fault there's no real way t'contact 'im. I just...I can't go a whole month without lettin' him know I'll be home soon, and I can't dream at him with yer barrier up." He sat down with his legs crossed, staring at the floor. "I spend too much damn time away as it is. He never knows for sure if I'm comin' back."

Frisk swallowed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner how important this was to you? And what do you mean, 'dream at him'?"

"I didn't bother 'cause you might'a thought I was lying to make you feel sorry fer me. I know I wouldn't trust me." The skeleton jerked his head at the ruined wall. "What I mean is, I can talk to Pap while we're both dreamin', but you wouldn't be there to hear what we were saying. I could tell him all sorts of crap, like how strong the High Priestess is and how much safer it'd be for us monsters if she was dead."

The priestess was silent again. Sans risked a glance in time to see her reach up to sweep her hair behind her ear, only to yelp in pain. Sure enough, as she raised her hand to inspect it, the outside knuckle was red and swollen. "Augh! How did I not notice this?" Frisk tried to move it and had to stifle another exclamation. "Wonderful. If it hurts this much, I must have broken it." She made an incoherent noise and started toward the rack of finished potions on the worktable.

Sans dimly recalled that humans didn't feel as much pain when they were scared or excited, and that it could catch up to them pretty fast. It also occurred to him that it was a bad idea for a small human to hit a thick-headed skeleton with her bare hand. "What are you doin'?" he wanted to know. "You can heal that up in a jiffy."

"I can't heal myself," she said brusquely. "I'm not very adept at healing to begin with, and I can't make it work on me at all."

That couldn't be right. "Ya mean to tell me you're good enough to hold me off and keep me penned in for days with no magic, but—"

"Leave me alone."

Her voice was so quiet and furious that he stopped dead. But as she picked a vial and started to pull the cork out with her teeth, Sans got up and held his own hand out. "Lemme see."

With as much dignity as she could muster, Frisk closed her mouth and handed him the vial. He put it back impatiently and beckoned again. "Not that, dummy. Yer hand."

The priestess gave him a long, eloquent look. When he didn't move, she placed her broken hand in his huge one, wincing as his thumb closed lightly over her wrist. It was hard to remember how to turn his magic green, but she'd been right about intentions: it helped to think about how badly he wanted it to work, not only to help her, but to prove that he was capable of fixing things as well as destroying them.

Sure enough, within seconds, his palm began to glow as if he held a handful of emeralds. When Sans could bring himself to let her go, she flexed it easily. "You've gotten some magic back already," she observed. Frisk smiled at him for a moment, and he couldn't not smile back. "You know," she said, anger rapidly resurfacing, "you're not only a lying reprobate, you are a huge idiot." She rapped her knuckles on his palm. "I've always had a barrier guarding the bedroom from any external magic. If that was the only thing keeping you from reaching Papyrus, you should have asked me to remove it."

Sans sat down again. "But—"

"As for the possibility of giving him illicit information, I will ask you this only once." Frisk moved closer, looking him square in the sockets. "Do you intend to tell the other monsters, at any point, that your race would be better off with me dead?"

He didn't even have to think about it before he answered, "Not anymore. You're pretty damn useful as you are, speakin' up on our behalf to the other humans. I don't see anyone pressuring you into screwin' us over."

A brief smile. "I'm glad to hear it. For my part, I don't mind letting you talk to your brother as long as you take me with you. I'd love to say hello—I've heard so much about him that it'll be like meeting an old friend." She stifled a yawn. "If you start tattling on me in some fashion, I can always pull the barrier back up."

"...You want me to...bring you...in my dream?" Blink. Blink. "But how—what're you gonna—"

"One thing at a time, Sans. First, we're going to bed."

"We're what now?"

"If you're not leaving yet, then we're going to bed, now. This mess can wait till morning." With a nod at her blocked office door, Frisk motioned for him to follow her into the bedroom. "Come along. There's nowhere else for me to sleep, and I'm freezing."

And so it was that Sans found himself lying rigid on the huge feather mattress, the priestess curled up like a cat in the armchair. He had no idea why he was so nervous; he couldn't even muster a semi-joke about her joining him in bed. "I've heard of this spell before," said Frisk, who seemed unperturbed by their proximity. "It's not very complicated. You've just healed me, and I've recently used some of your magic, so we have enough of a connection that I should be able to find you once we're asleep. ...The key word being sleep, Sans. You have to relax. I'm not going to eat you, no matter how short-sighted and dishonorable you've been."

"You're not gonna let that go, are ya?" he mumbled.

"You have no idea. We haven't even talked about repairing the wall yet." Her voice warmed again. "For now, though, don't worry about it. We need to find Papyrus and set you both at ease."

Now Sans felt nervous and extremely weird again. He turned onto his side so she couldn't see him changing color.  "'Kay. I...yeah. Thanks."

"Of course," she said, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to do a favor for someone who had completely betrayed her trust, and turned off the witchlight. He felt her raise another barrier at the bedroom door, one solid enough to stop an army, and a thinner barrier disappeared from behind the headboard. "There," she said in the darkness. "We'll see how well this works. Go to sleep, Sans."

That seemed unlikely, but he'd forgotten who he was dealing with. When about ten minutes had passed and the orange light of his eyes was still going strong, something wonderful started creeping up on him, a soothing vibration that spread through every bone in his body before he even knew what he was hearing. It was Frisk humming, of course, and of course it worked; Sans was more than content to let the sound and her presence lull him to sleep.

~

He jerked upright as something hit his skull, reflexively swatting the air and yelling, "Piss off!"

The lights were back on. In fact, it was full daylight, or what passed for it. Sans rubbed his eye sockets, turning this way and that. He was still in bed, but the bed stood alone in the middle of an open, snowy field. Kid monsters were racing back and forth under gaily decorated trees, throwing snowballs at each other and catching him in the crossfire.

The skeleton brushed himself off, reasoning that the Underground could be a weird place, but it wasn't quite random-snow-bed weird. This must be a dream, then. Damn it...

Oh, well. At least it was a nice one, and it felt pretty real—his good dreams tended to be fuzzy, while every single one of his nightmares was incredibly vivid.

Footsteps crunched on the snow behind him. "Well, hello there. That was simple," said Frisk, looking around them as he got up. She was in her plush robe and bare feet, but seemed at ease. "So this is Snowdin. Which house is yours?"

"BROTHER?"

Sans froze as a familiar shape emerged from a nearby fog of ice crystals. "Papyrus?" he whispered.

"I KNEW IIIIIT—OOF!" Papyrus had run to give his brother a bear hug and fell straight through him, as if Sans was also made of fog. "WHAT IS THIS, SANS? HAVE YOU BECOME TOO LAZY TO STAY SOLID?" he accused him from the ground.

"It's a dream, bro. This happens every damn time," the boss monster said wearily. "Just keep it together and listen, okay? I'm here t'let you know—"

"WAIT. A HUMAN? IS THAT...KRIS?" Papyrus was staring up at Frisk, his face somehow creased in puzzlement. "IS IT REALLY YOU? I THOUGHT YOU'D BE...KRIS-ER, NYEH."

Sans snorted. "Not every human is Kris, Pap. Don't be racist."

"Hello," Frisk said, offering a bright smile and a hand up. "My name is Frisk. It's wonderful to meet you, Papyrus."

"YES, IT IS. NYEH-HEH-HEH! YOU ARE CLEARLY VERY WISE AND ATTRACTIVE, HUMAN!" Papyrus brushed the snow from his fake armor, throwing his red scarf back over his shoulder in so dramatic a fashion that he didn't notice Frisk grinning, though Sans sure did. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY GREAT AND ATTRACTIVE DREAM?" he added.

Still smiling, Frisk watched the pack of young monsters run by. The monsters didn't seem to notice them, though the bed was still there and her purple robe stood out like a dark beacon against the snow. "Your brother wanted to see you, and I decided to come along," she explained. "Sans was captured by humans about a week ago when he was out looking for food, but please don't worry about—"

"CAPTURED?!" Papyrus clapped both hands to his skull. "THIS IS TERRIBLE! PLEASE DE-CAPTURE HIM IMMEDIATELY, HUMAN, OR ELSE I...I...!"

"Pap! Take it easy. She's okay. 'Fact, she's the reason I ain't dead or enslaved right now." Sans plucked at his shirt. "See, she even got me some new duds. You can finally stop bitching about what I'm wearin'."

Papyrus stopped flailing long enough to examine Sans' shirt. "NYEH! I SEE NO HOLES OR QUESTIONABLE STAINS. WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?"

Sans smirked, letting his brother poke at him in vain. "I told ya, bro, I just got it. You don't hafta rip me apart like this."

Frisk rocked back and forth on her heels. "So," she said over Papyrus' exasperated groaning, "I gather you knew a boy named Kris from the last human delegation. Is that right?"

"YES, IT IS RIGHT! KRIS WAS OUR DEAR FRIEND," Papyrus said as Sans grimaced and turned away. "WE WENT FOR WALKS AND HAD SLEEPOVERS, AND MADE HAND PUPPETS THAT ALSO HAD SLEEPOVERS. IT WAS LIKE HAVING A CUTE LITTLE PET THAT CLEANED UP AFTER ITSELF. WE'VE ALL MISSED HIM VERY MUCH, NYEHHH."

"Yeah, he left with the other humans," Sans muttered. "Can we please move on now?"

"Yes, of course. I'm going to borrow your brother for a few more weeks," Frisk told Papyrus. The latter was glaring at his brother's new shirt again, as if daring it to make a false move. "I have a plan to start making peace between monsters and humans," she continued, "but I need a monster's help to do it. Can you get along without Sans until I send him back to the Underground?"

"HMMMM." Papyrus straightened, one hand on his chin. "YOU WON'T HURT HIM?" he asked, sounding almost timid.

"Absolutely not, Papyrus," she said firmly. "He'll be back safe and sound."

Papyrus nodded, evidently impressed by her sincerity. "I AM IMPRESSED BY YOUR SINCERITY, HUMAN. IF THIS DREAM IS NOT MY MAGNIFICENT IMAGINATION PLAYING TRICKS ON ME AGAIN, THEN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL SPARE MY GOOD-FOR-NOTHING BROTHER FOR A LITTLE WHILE LONGER. NYEH-HEH-HEH!" Without warning, the skeleton grabbed at Sans' wrist bones. "HUMAN! I WOULD LIKE TO TALK TO MY BROTHER IN SECRET FOR A MOMENT, IF YOU WILL PLEASE EXCUSE US. IT WILL BE SECRET!"

"Of course," said Frisk. "I'll be right here. Just make sure it's not too secret, please."

Sans covered his face with his hand as Papyrus marched toward the fog bank, still holding his brother's imaginary wrist. "Ya can't touch me, remember?" Sans called after him.

"...I KNEW THAT. CONGRATULATIONS, BROTHER! YOU HAVE PASSED THIS TEST! NYEH. ...HEH." Papyrus waited for Sans to join him, and they walked towards the river. "ARE YOU SURE THAT'S NOT KRIS?" the younger skeleton asked doubtfully.

Sans laughed, jerking his thumb in Frisk's direction. "Does that human look like a sixteen-ish-year-old boy?"

"HMM. NO, IT LOOKS LIKE A HUMAN. BUT! IT SEEMS DELIGHTFUL! THE GREAT PAPYRUS THINKS YOU SHOULD BRING IT BACK HERE WITH YOU. IT'S BEEN TOO LONG SINCE WE HAD A HUMAN TO PILLOW-FIGHT WITH, NYEH-HEH-HEH."

"That's probably not a great idea," Sans remarked.

"NYEH-HEH! WHY NOT?"

"I could spend literally the rest of the night tellin' you all the reasons why not, but the biggest one is that she's the High Priestess, Pap. The other humans would definitely notice if she was gone."

"HIGH PRIESTESS?" Papyrus cocked his head in perplexity. "WHY WOULD A DELIGHTFUL HUMAN BE A HIGH PRIESTESS? DON'T THEY CREATE BARRIERS?"

"It's complicated, bro. Look, I've gotta go soon. Is there anything else you wanna say?"

His younger brother paused, and sighed, shoulders slumping. "SANS. WERE YOU REALLY JUST LOOKING FOR FOOD? WHEN YOU GOT CAUGHT, I MEAN."

The bigger skeleton tried to kick a chunk of ice into the water, his foot passing right through it. "I wasn't slaughtering humans, if that's what you're askin'. I was mostly tryin' to track down monsters who've been sold off recently. But I did want to see how the humans' harvest turned out, an' it looks like it was pretty good this year."

Papyrus nodded, still troubled. "ALL RIGHT, BROTHER. I UNDERSTAND. PLEASE, JUST...TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. NYEH."

"You too, Pap." Sans felt a familiar stab of trepidation and backed away. "Shit, I've got a nightmare coming. I'll see ya soon, okay? Don't tell anyone about Frisk!"

He had to turn and run before Papyrus could answer. Frisk was sitting on the bed in the snow field, ducking snowballs. She turned and started to say, "I hope you weren't telling on m—"

"No more dream! End it now!" he panted.

The priestess didn't waste time asking stupid questions. As the nightmare nipped at Sans' heel, Frisk made a quick swiping gesture, and just like that, he was back in bed, in the bedroom, staring at the sun-washed ceiling.

The skeleton sighed in relief. He rested his forearm across his eyes. Between the radius and ulna, he could see the flickering shadows of birds flying past the open windows. "Thanks, kiddo," he said, "an' thanks for lettin' me talk to him. I really appreciate it." Sans scratched the top of his skull, rolling over to face Frisk. "So, how'd you like Papyrus? He's a cool guy, huh?"

Frisk didn't answer, because she wasn't there. A strange human child sat in the armchair, perched on the edge of the seat, holding a kitchen knife. It stared at him with red-shining eyes, teeth bared in a horrible grin.

If Sans had had more than a shred of magic left, he would have pulled all his blasters at once and obliterated half the building. As it was, he jerked back, nearly choking in terror. The child wasn't moving, but menace radiated off it like heat from a furnace, eyes boring into him as its grin widened. Sans looked around wildly for an escape. The windows were too small, but maybe he could—

A sharp whistle split the air. The barrier snapped on, and the child vanished.

Sans was sitting upright in bed again, in the dark, awake, panting as though he'd run a mile in a few seconds. "Sans, I am so sorry!" The light snapped on. Frisk stood at his bedside, wide-eyed, clutching the neck of her robe. "I didn't think I was going to have that nightmare again before we woke up! I thought it'd be fine, I—" She took a step onto the bed, leaning over to grab his humerus. "Sans? Sans! Please say something!"

He shook her off, and she stumbled backwards, falling into the armchair. "What the fuck was that?" he rasped.

Frisk sat up and pulled her robe tighter around her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she said again. "I should have warned you. It's the reason I have that barrier up in the first place." She swallowed hard. "It shouldn't happen again."

"It better not," Sans snarled. "What the hell was that thing, anyway?"

"I don't know." She looked so miserable that Sans wanted to smack himself, but he was too unnerved to lie and tell her that it was okay; he was shaking so hard that he could almost hear his bones rattle.

For a solid minute, the only other sound in the room was the wind blowing outside the shuttered windows. "I hope you had a good talk with Papyrus," Frisk said presently with a decent attempt at calmness, placing her palm on the bedroom door to dissolve the thick barrier. "I can see why everyone likes him so much. It's good to know he hasn't changed."

The skeleton grunted, hoping she was smart enough not to ask him any questions about him changing. "Yeah. Thanks for fixin' that up for us. Sorry I pushed you just now."

"It's fine. It was an accident." Frisk fiddled with the key in its lock. "You know, Sans, I'd like you to help repair the damage you caused, but...if you still want to leave, I won't stop you. I wasn't thinking of how much it was to ask, staying an entire month."

Sans stared at her. She wouldn't turn around. Finally, he said, "What the crap, lady? You already let me talk to Pap. That was the whole reason I tried to bust out of here. Why wouldn't I stick around 'n make it up to you? Ya really think I'm that bad?"

There came a soft knock at the door, startling them both. "Your Eminence?" It was a male voice, deep and pleasant. "Are you awake, my lady? Please forgive my intrusion, but His Holiness urgently requests your presence."

Daylight was showing through the closed shutters. "Yes, of course. I'll be there in a moment," said Frisk, running her fingers through her hair, eye twitching as she found a tangle.

Sans watched her, and watched her move to unlock the door, feeling a different sort of unease. "Wait a sec," he rumbled. "Frisk, wait. Didn't you bar the big doors last night? How'd he get—"

The man knocked again. "Just a moment," Frisk repeated, turning the key. She glanced behind her. "What, Sans?"

The door banged open. Before she could blink, a stranger in tattered clothes rushed in, his arm raised to strike.

The boss monster was already moving. The man lunged, and there was a sound of steel hitting bone; the priestess found herself staring at the tip of a knife, inches from her face, jutting from between massive skeletal fingers. "Sans!" cried Frisk, twisting around to look at him.

Red clouded Sans' vision, but one clear spot remained: with his free hand, he reached out, corralled Frisk and gently maneuvered her behind him, fingers forming a protective cage. The other hand flexed briefly, then backhanded the intruder so hard that the man rolled clear out of the bedroom, hitting the worktable with a crack and a thump.

The skeleton clamped his teeth on the dagger's hilt and pried the blade out from between his knuckles, jerking his head to fling it to the other side of the bedroom. There was technically nothing to pierce where the knife had been lodged, but it still stung. He glanced down to be sure Frisk was unscathed, then edged forward into the workroom.

To his great irritation, the man wasn't dead; he was not only conscious, but pulling himself up on the table. "Who the fuck are you?" demanded Sans. Only the vague awareness that Frisk was watching kept him from grabbing the guy and pinching his head off.

The stranger wiped the corner of his mouth on his sleeve, squinting against Sans' literal glare. He was gaunt and generally gross-looking, but had moved fast enough and aimed the knife with enough skill to peg him as a professional killer. "What's a big-ass talkin' skeleton doing here? They said you got sold off already!" The assassin laughed shakily. "So it was you bashin' that wall down! What the hell'd you even do that for? It took me all goddamn night to get out!"

Sans glanced at the office door, which was ajar. Several pieces of broken masonry had been moved out of the way by shoving the door repeatedly from the inside. The guy must have snuck into the office after Frisk left, while Sans was in the bedroom but before he blocked the entrance, and gotten trapped in his hiding place by all the debris piled against it.

It would have been kind of funny, except that if Sans really had left, Frisk would be dead now.

The young woman was leaning on Sans' femur, peering around his outspread fingers. He could feel her trembling, which only intensified his urge to kill something. "I know you," she said. "You spoke to me after a service last week. You said I...I..."

"Had a positively angelic voice?" The man leered at her, showing several broken teeth. "S'truth. But I needed to be sure 'xactly who you were. The last High Priestess used body doubles sometimes." He looked her up and down. "Gotta say, I like yours a lot better."

She shuddered. Sans leaned down, not taking his now-flaming eyes from the assassin. "You need this piece of crap alive, Frisk, or can I take 'im apart now?"

"Frisk?" The man cackled, slapping the worktable with a dirty palm. "That's your real name, lady? That's gotta be the dumbest—"

And just like that, he launched himself at Frisk, closing the distance and ducking between Sans' legs like a snake. He whipped another knife out from his belt and would have sliced her neck open if Sans hadn't been ready to nudge her out of the way, grabbing the assassin on the backswing and slamming him against the open door.

Before Frisk could react, Sans turned his head to the opposite wall and said, "Holy crap, what's that?" As she whirled around, Sans plucked the knife out of the man's hand and gave him one squeeze, very quick and very hard. "Whoops, my bad. Nothin' there," he said to cover the sound of ribs breaking.

The priestess started to turn back. "Stay where you are," Sans ordered, pulling the assassin out of her line of sight, stepping into the workroom and closing the door behind him. "Oh, no you don't," he said loudly, as if chasing the man down. "Nooo, stop! We just want to talk to...oh, no!"

The assassin didn't seem to appreciate the theatrics, especially because Sans was carrying him straight to the broken wall. Ignoring the man's feeble protests, the skeleton drew his arm back and murmured, "Now think about what you've done, pal," before tossing him out into the open air.

His only concern was that the bastard would make a lot of noise on the way down, but it seemed he'd knocked the wind out of him, ha. By the time Frisk peeked out of the bedroom, the assassin was long gone.

Sans shook his head and turned from the opening. "Nope. Sorry, I couldn't catch him before he told us who sent him." He wished he had his jacket; his hands had nowhere to go. "You all right, Frisk?"

The priestess gulped and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "No, I'm not." She slid down, back to the wall, and wrapped her arms around her knees.

She didn't seem be physically hurt, so for the moment, he said, "'Kay," and stared at the slightly open office door. "Son of a bitch. I'm gonna tear that guard a new one. D'you think he knew you were sleepin' in there, or was it just a convenient...place to...crap."

Frisk's shoulders had hunched and her face gone pale. Sans ground his teeth, cursing his stupidity. "Well, it's over. He won't bother you again," he reassured her, coming to kneel beside her. "At least that cover story 'bout the assassin ain't a lie now. Right?"

She didn't look reassured at all. With the threat of bodily harm removed, Sans was out of his element again, with no clue how to help her. Should he frame this as an inconvenient but probably solvable problem that she'd always known might come up? No, that would be dumb. She already had enough problems. She didn't need to worry about more shitheads getting in here to hurt her. As long as she was an important and politically vocal person, it wasn't like she could do much to...

Wait. That was it: Sans had the idea. "Actually, ya know what?" He waited for her to shake her head. "You were sayin' this weird stuff about me leaving once I'd seen Pap. Before we talk about that, I gotta ask, what's the going rate for a bodyguard around here? A good one, not just some moron following you around tryin' to look scary."

She bit her lip, a habit Sans had noticed and been distracted by several times already. "Um...it depends. A skilled full-time personal guard? Anywhere from fifty to a hundred dinar—"

"Oh, nice. I can probably—"

"—an hour. I only sleep a few hours a night, so..." Frisk gave him the ghost of a smile. "If you're offering your services, Sans, I'd be glad to accept. Would a salary of one thousand per diem be acceptable?"

Now he really was at a loss for words. "A thousand a friggin' day?" he repeated blankly.

Frisk nodded. Her shock seemed to be fading as she thought aloud: "You could pay for your clothes in one day, and I can negotiate the repairs down to about ten days' worth. After that, well, wheat is about five dinar a bushel." Despite herself, she sniffled again. "You could buy a lot of wheat, or beans, or...or wedding cakes, or literally anything else you want to take Underground with you."

He was patting himself on the back when, without warning, Frisk's smile faded. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before I unlocked the door." Sniff. "Thank you for staying with me." Sniff. "And thank you for saving my life."

Shit shit was as far as Sans got before he lost even that bit of coherence. His senses were already heightened by the unexpected danger, his SOUL still feeling a little queasy at how close she'd come to dying right in front of him; to cap it off with Frisk looking up at him like this with big eyes, messy hair, and her robe falling off her shoulder was more than he could handle. She never looked bad, but right now, damn.

Sans didn't realize he was reaching for her until his fingertip brushed her cheek, toying with a wavy lock of hair. "Don't mention it," he said gruffly. "'s the least I can do."

Frisk pulled away, face flushing, but only in momentary surprise. He devoutly hoped that she'd get up and go get dressed, or maybe pack her things, buy a fast horse and leave the kingdom forever, but that damnable woman didn't know any better than to smile and take his hand, or at least rest her hand in the space between two of his fingers. "Just so long as you keep in mind that you're still my apprentice," she said with mock sternness. "Do you promise?"

Fffffffff

Neither of them understood what happened next. Sans felt something welling up that made him want to grab her and...he didn't know what would happen next, but he wanted it so badly that he backed away in sudden alarm. All he knew was that this feeling – this energy – had to go somewhere, and if he directed it at her, he could accidentally mash her into paste. The only thing he could think of was to whip around, look for something else to latch onto, and focus his attention on the pile of stones, etc. by the office.

His magic was barely available, or so he would have said a minute ago. Fueled by the whatever-it-was, though, and with the barrier gone from one of the walls, Sans didn't even have to think about it: Frisk jumped back as the heap of debris by her office began to glow red, rising into the air and flying into the broken wall. To their mutual astonishment, the outside bricks and internal structures zipped back into place first, followed by more bricks, mortar, stone, wood, and finally the glass and lead of the windows. When the dust settled, the entire facade had been imperfectly but almost entirely restored, the floor sagging under the windows.

Sans stared at his hand, still breathing heavily. "Huh," he said by way of explanation.

"Indeed." Frisk absently ran her fingers through her hair again, working out a tangle as she examined the wall. "Did I know you could do that?"

"I didn't know I could do that." Now that the unfamiliar energy was gone, Sans found he wanted to sit down. He sat down next to her, comfortably but not dangerously close. "Welp, I need a break from life," he said, which got a laugh out of her. He snorted. "Break. I actually didn't mean that one."

Frisk gave a long, long sigh. "We'll knock down your fee to three or four days of repairs," she said gravely.

Sans couldn't help grinning. "I always knew there was mortar life than money."

She kept a straight face until he added, "Makin' it pretty again is gonna be a pane in the glass," whereupon she broke out in hysterical, snorting laughter, which cracked him up in turn and guaranteed a minutes-long feedback loop.

As nice as this all was, Sans was a little concerned when he got under control and she kept going, and going, and ended up nearly gasping for breath. "You okay, kid?" he asked. "Ya need some water?"

"Oh, Lord," she wheezed. Frisk wiped her eyes on her already-damp sleeve. "Sans, you're killing me."

Silence. Frisk thought about it, and promptly buried her head as far between her knees as she could get it. "I didn't do that on purpose," she said, muffled and sheepish.

Sans shifted his weight. He wasn't ready to admit to himself how badly the whole attack had scared him, much less to her. Just to check, he considered escaping again – maybe once she was letting him walk around with her outside and his magic was naturally restored – and now, less than twelve hours after doing his damndest at it, he couldn't believe how much he hated the idea. No problem, really; he could chalk it up to her letting him connect with Papyrus and needing to make it up to her. Also, holy shit, one thousand dinar every day for the next twenty-five days? That was as solid a set of reasons as he'd ever come up with.

"Well," he finally said. "Guess you'd better get yer scary witch dress on and go tell everyone about this whole mess." He snapped his fingers, making an odd click, as something occurred to him. That's right—I got both those knives off him. Maybe someone can take a look at 'em and figure out who he was, where they were from."

Frisk raised her head, staring into space. "No," she said, as if to herself. The boss monster looked askance, and she smiled in a small, nasty way he hadn't seen before. "We won't say anything." The smile grew. "I'll go about my day as if nothing happened, except I'll be accompanied everywhere by a ten-foot skeleton. Whoever set him after me will have no idea what happened, and it'll drive them absolutely mad. We can see if anyone incriminates themselves, but...ohh, I'm going to enjoy this."

"It's a neat idea, but the garbage threw itself out already, remember?" Sans indicated the repaired wall. "Someone's bound to notice 'im."

The young woman did a remarkable impression of shock and distress, eyes wide and mouth hanging open before she murmured, "That poor man jumped from such a height? What a hideous tragedy. Peace be upon his soul and those of his loved ones."

"Daaaamn" was all Sans could say. He might have killed the guy and covered it up, but he couldn't look that cute telling a bare-ass lie! Also... "Ain't you a priestess? Isn't that a little...?"

Frisk scowled. Despite her bedhead and furry robe, she was the very image of sternness and, yes, determination. "I was taught that it is my duty to aid the weak and be an instrument of justice against people who, for example, want to stab me in my own bedroom when I've done nothing to harm them. It's no sin to protect yourself."

The skeleton shrugged, holding his hands out. "Okay, that's enough. I think I love ya. Where do I sign up to kill people for you?"

The priestess laughed. "I bet you say that to every girl you try to escape from. And, please, don't kill anyone." She glanced at the clock, and her amusement melted into panic. "Dirt! I have matins in twenty minutes!" She sprang to her feet and made a beeline for her dressing room. "Can you please find my veil for me?" she called before she shut the door.

Sans also got up, muttering, "'Dirt'? Seriously?" as he retrieved the veil from where it had blown onto the table. As an afterthought, he returned to the bedroom and picked up the assassin's daggers. He studied them, saying out loud, "I think I'm screwed, is what I am," then placed them on the nightstand.

He heard Frisk emerge from her dressing room and went to meet her as she asked, "Sans, do you have my—"

He handed the veil over. "Thank you, sir." She threw the veil over her head and adjusted the headdress over it. "May I assume that you haven't been to many religious services?"

"Er..."

"Well, we have an oral contract, effective immediately, and I am going to church, so you are going to church." She inclined her head, moving toward the double doors. "Follow me."

And, of course, he did.

[clairecrive]

“Let’s stay home”| Quarantine AU

Chapter 1 -“Alfie”

A/n: I’m so excited to finally share this with you!! This really came up to me as a way to pass the time but it slowly became an almost fic so I thought, why not, maybe someone will like it too. Can’t wait to hear your thoughts about it!

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye​, @mollybegger-blog​, @br0ck-eddie​, @evelynshelby​, @fandom–0verdose​, @shadow-of-wonder ( let me know if you wanna be added)

Next chapters: Masterpost

The news was out, not it was official:  the whole world was on lockdown. Emma knew it was coming, seeing as her family in Italy had been updating her since the pandemic had been official but still, it still felt all too surreal for it to be true. Only that it was and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Until scientists won’t find a cure, the only thing they could do and were asked to, was to stay inside. To go out only in necessary. Currently, Emma wasn’t home. Well, thanks to her job she had been on the move for quite some time, so other than her family’s one she didn’t really have one. At the moment she was renting this lovely house with a sea view and private access to the beach in San Francisco, where her work had taken her. The house was big and she’d get often lonely so during the weekend she had this tradition of calling some friends over. Her schedule was pretty hectic leaving her very little time for social interactions. Emma wasn’t exactly a social butterfly but enjoyed the company of her friends so, in this way, it was a win-win for everyone. Alfie had called her at the beginning of last week to tell her that he was in the area for work and asked her to meet up. Seeing as her friends were busy this weekend, she invited him over. Of course, she had thought of a cute possibly romantic weekend but then pandemic happened and now it seemed that they were stuck together. To be fair, Emma knew that she could pack and go back home to Italy but maybe it was safest for everyone if she just stayed here. Work would be easier to deal with too if she stayed in San Francisco. 

“What do you mean we can’t leave the house?” Emma had given Alfie the news after hearing it on tv and he wasn’t taking it too well, to say the least.

“We’re in quarantine Alfie, I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.” 

“That’s bullshit, they can’t do that.” Of course, he would say that, king of the world.

“Don’t be daft Alfred. The danger is real and almost every country in the world is on the lockdown.”

“Can’t believe this.”

“People are dying Alfie, I’m sure you can think at least at hundreds of different scenarios where you could get it worse.” Rolling her eyes, she turns around and heads over the bathroom to get her day started with her skincare routine. “Besides, the only one that should be complaining is me. Do you hear me bitching and moaning?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Have you met yourself?” She sassed looking at him over her shoulder,” I’m stuck with you for god knows how long, still I’m not complaining.” Surely, when she came over the other night, she wasn’t expecting that she’d be stuck with him. However, Emma understood that she was in a privileged position. Yes, she wasn’t with her family but she was grateful nonetheless to be surrounded by people she loved. She knew the cockney man can be a handful and that’s exactly why she called for help.  Alfie, still puzzled about this whole situation, follows her like a lost puppy. He didn’t like her tone, but then again, he knew he could be quite the pain in the ass so the prospect of spending the next weeks in close proximity with him wouldn’t be appealing to anyone.

“What are you doing?” The look on his face was priceless. His eyes studied the various bottles she had sprawled all over the sink like they were an Arabic papyrus or something.

“My skincare routine. Ever heard of it?” Her eyes laid on his form behind her through the mirror, while she put her tonic on a cotton pad before gently applying it on her face.

“Seems rather pointless. Don’t see why  you need to put all this stuff on your face.” Of course, Alfie was skeptical and ignored even the existence of moisturizer, she could swear it.

“You should definitely give it a try, your skin would thank you for it, rest assured.” She recommended but didn’t get an answer. When she looked again at Alfie, he was curiously watching every little movement she made. For someone who proclaimed to be so against skincare, he was certainly interested in it. Smirking at the thought, she moved a little to the side making enough space for him to join her. Prompting him to come closer with her hands, she was met with his confused gaze but did what she asked nonetheless.

“What kind of skin do you have?” She asked now turning towards him to study his face. He would probably none the wiser about the type of skin he had but she asked anyway.

“What kind of question is that?” As she thought. Ignoring his tone, she simply rolled her eyes again and opted for deducing the answer herself. Spotting the red patches on the edges of his face, she guessed that he had sensitive skin. He didn’t look like he had an oily prone to acne one but she couldn’t tell if he had dry skin either. Maybe he had just normal skin.

“Do you get oily during the day or do you struggle with dryness?” She tried again with a simpler question. I mean, he had to know these things, she thought.

“Well, uh, I don’t think I get oily as you said. Definitely noticed some dry patches though.” Alfie said after a little thought. Well, now we’re going somewhere.

“Okay then.” Considering what he told her, she looked into her beauty case to find the appropriate product for his skin.

“Try this.” She hands him a cleanser that worked for every type of skin and was extremely gentle, so it was perfect for his red patches.

“Why can’t I use that one?” He asked pointing to the tonic she was using when he first entered. She gave him a little smile, the one you give little kids when they ask an obvious question that they didn’t know due to their age. 

“Because that one,” she said taking it in her hands so that she could show him, “ is a tonic. That comes after. The first step is to wash your face with a cleanser in order to purify the skin and rid it from all the dirty stuff.” She then proceeds to explain. He didn’t look too convinced but went ahead and followed her instructions anyway. After he had washed his face, she hands him the tonic again.

“Now you can use this. Put a little dose of it on this cotton pad and then gently pat it all over your face.” Seeing as she had to do that step too, she took her pad and showed him how to apply it.

“What’s this for?” He asks while he swipes the pad over his forehead.

“No Alfie look, don’t swipe it. Pat it, like this.” She corrects him, taking his pad in her hands and doing it for him so he could see the right movement. “This is called a tonic and it closes our pores after the cleansing. And since this is a rose-based tonic, it also helps to soothe the skin and cure any irritations.” She softly explains, her eyes focused on the motion of her hand on his face. Seeing up close, his skin looked even more bruised and irritated. She wonders what was the cause and for how long he had had them.

“Swipe, pat. Whatever.” Alfie mumbles resembling very much a little kid but for some reason, it makes Emma smile.

“If they’re two different words it must mean that they mean different things, no?” In a very condescending tone, she finished what she was doing ending it with a pat that was more vigorous. She turned around to gather the next product they would need and thinking that she couldn’t see him, Alfie literally mouthed “gne gne” at her, making fun of her. Maybe he was even more childish than a child. Waiting for him to noticing how much a fool he had made of himself, Emma freezes him with a stern look when he looks at her through the mirror.

“Now, two years old child stuck in the body of a thirty years old, it’s time for under eyes. Although, maybe you don’t want it.” She mused turning around to face him, messing with him as well.

“Do not make me fucking beg for an eye cream, Emma.” Rolling his eyes Alfie spat.

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind. We should definitely do a face mask, god knows your skin needs it.” An idea popped into her mind and she went looking for a hydrating mask for the both of them. 

“A what?” Alfie called after her when she walked out of the bathroom.

“Oh please, don’t pretend you haven’t seen Ig posts with girls with colored stuff on their faces or a sheet mask. Before you can even think of denying it, you should know that I can see the posts you like.” She said completely disarming him so that he could only surrender at the fact and wait for her to gather what she was looking for. 

“Here it is. It’s super easy actually, you just have to open it and put it on your face and keep it for fifteen minutes-ish.” She explained after handing him the packaging of the mask she had chosen for him. The only she got for herself was not a sheet mask so she had to apply it. She was halfway through when she noticed something strange in the background.

“What-” Erupting in a  loud laugh she couldn’t finish the sentence. Putting on a sheet mask was a rather easy task. Or so she thought. But seeing the way Alfie had erroneously put on his, she was reconsidering her statement. Emma couldn’t really see his expression but by the sound he made, she figured he was offended that she was taking the piss at him but she really couldn’t help it.

“Alfie, dear god, what did you do?” Taking the mask in your hands, you pulled it off his face readjusting it to the rightful position. “Here, that’s how you put it on. Look, there are holes where your nose, mouth and eyes go.” She couldn’t help but smile condescendingly at him. He really was a child sometimes.

“And now what?” He asked when they both went back to the living room.

“And now we wait. In 14 minutes you can take it off.” she said looking at the time on her phone while setting a timer, “oh what a wonderful coincidence, they’re also going to be here in fifteen minutes.” She said probably reading a message.

“Who’s they?” Alfie inquired narrowing his eyes startled by this news piece of information.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’ve invited some friends over.”

[valkyrieofsmut]

Captive Love   5

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: (Y/n)'s day at the skelebro's house, Sans' day out.

A/N: So, in this chapter, we find out that (Y/n)'s soul trait is integrity; honesty and strong morals. The only problem with having integrity as a main soul trate is that, because you're so honest, even if you don't want to trust people, you can have the tendency to believe people easier, because you expect others to mean what they say as much as you do. Even extremely smart beings with the trait can second guess their instincts or have them overwritten because the person lying is someone they (want to) trust or have positive feelings about/ for. Based on the note... can you guess what's going to happen in this chapter... lol Also, sorry, guys! I kept trying to get this to post all day, but I guess that tumblr hates long posts...? Or me... Might just be me... lol.

Masterlist      Series Masterlist

Story

Little lies never hurt anyone.

Sans leaned on the counter of the odd and ends shop, though it should rightfully be called a thrift shop, since most of its contents had come from other people and not “sources” like a normal store. 

“You got a friend you’re buyin’ all this stuff for?” The bunny on the other side asked suggestively. 

Sans gave her a smirk. “what’d make ya think that?” 

“Well, you haven’t flirted with me once since you walked in the door,” she hinted. 

“ah, sorry, doll. jus’ a lil distracted fer a sec, thinkin’ a comin’ in... did ya want ta hop on th’ sans express an’ ride it ta th’ bone zone?” He asked with a heavy handed lewdness. 

Honestly, he’d rather spend the time with his sweetheart, but he had to keep up appearances so that no one got suspicious. 

Plus, awkward sexual tension filled innuendos were easier to deal in than talking about feelings and shit.

The bunny gave a giggle and continued to lean over the counter toward him instead of going to get his requested items. “Still as charming as ever, I see.” 

Sans flashed his smirk again. “so, can i get my stuff?” 

The bunny giggled again and with a wiggle of tail asked, “so, does that mean that you’re thinking of getting a pet? Going to go out and take one?” 

He let out an annoyed sound. “can i jus’ get my fuckin' stuff?” 

She looked a little startled by the suddenness of the change, but took it in stride as it wasn’t really so strange for the former Underground citizens to be testy, and turned to go to the back. 

"So," the bunny’s brother asked as he brought the requested items out a moment later, "you gonna wear these, then?" 

Sans sneered at him. "you wish ya freak." 

"A little too much denial…?" The bunny suggested with a smirk. 

Sans gave a disgusted face. "go fuck yerself." He turned, flicking his fingers and letting his magic tug on the piles of stuff on the shelves above the bunny's head. "get dunked on, ya ass hat," he called back over his shoulder.

.

“aww, ya ain’t seen nothin’ at all?” Sans asked with a suggestive grin to the small cluster of spider ladies selling their baked goods in the corner of the bar. "'s a human, hard ta miss..."

“Ooooh, no,” one hummed.

“No, not anything… Do you wanna buy a croissant, Sans? It tastes soooo good with mustard…” another tempted. 

“heh. ‘d rather have somethin' a lil sweeter on my tongue,” he insinuated, thinking of (Y/n) at home, spread across his bed, his tongue tasting all sorts of things… 

Drool was slowly pooling between his sharp teeth, and he quickly wiped it, giving an internal groan at how fast his cock had risen to attention at the thought. 

He needed to get with his sweetheart quick, even just enough to curb the appetite growing inside of him. 

The spider girls giggling brought him back to the present. He flashed a grin and went to the bar, getting a mustard to drink as he continued around, checking everyone for info. 

After the rest of his rounds, he headed to his last few information gathering contacts. The ones he knew couldn't keep their mouths shut. 

.

(Y/n) didn’t know what to do. She was stuck in this house, not able to leave, not much to do, nowhere to go. 

Sans’ room was messy, her clothes were dirty, it wasn’t even lunch time… 

First, she went to the bathroom and washed her clothes in the tub the best she could, cleaning herself as much as possible in the process, hanging them to dry so she could have something clean to go home in. 

Then, she went back to Sans’ room, looking around. She couldn’t read any of the books on the shelf, seeing that the words were all written in a strange sort of glyph, and remembered that Sans had told her he couldn't read human language, but as she put all the books on the shelves, she saw the covers had various strange pictures, outerspace, numbers, shapes, most of them looked like school books, but, like they’d be for some advanced courses. She flipped through the pages of a few of them and saw all sorts of charts and formulas that looked reminiscent of something she’d seen on a tv show with Neil deGrasse Tyson as the host. Very smart… and science-y… 

(Y/n) put them on the shelves, trying to keep them together as best she could. Some of the books were obviously not… string theory… or whatever the hell the others were… but, novels or something, a few of them she had only a vague idea, having to make a guess that one with a simple cover of a monster laughing at a casket and a crowd laughing at the two was either a black comedy novel, or a book of dark jokes. 

She leaned toward the dark jokes. 

Under his desk, she found a folded up paper and opened it, trying to see if it was important, though she'd really have no idea, and saw that it looked like some sort of congratulatory certificate. High school diploma, maybe? 

After she got everything sorted, she tried to put it with other things that looked the same. 

She went out into the rest of the house and found a garbage can under the extra tall sink cabinet, and took it up Sans' room, only throwing away things that were obviously trash; food wrappers, crumpled up bits of paper, other strange little things that might have been dried lava, or eternally frozen snow… any way, they were things that looked like they had fallen from his shoes. 

When she took the garbage can back down, she found something that looked like it might be a vacuum, and she looked at it, turning it around and pressing the buttons to see how they worked without any power, before sticking it back in the closet and pulling out the broom and dust pan. 

Sweeping was better than nothing… and also better than blowing up the house. 

The next task (Y/n) tackled was sorting out the laundry, though she couldn’t find any washer or dryer to clean them in. Maybe they made laundromat trips? 

After that she figured it was about lunch time, so she dug through the fridge and ate a small portion of the lasagna from the night before. It wasn’t the worst she’d ever had, but it was far from the best. Maybe if she hid some of the spices he’d used that should have stayed out of the mix, like sage, paprika, cinnamon, nutmeg… really, she thought maybe he’d just put some of everything in the spice rack in there. 

She tried turning on the tv and entertaining herself, but the only channels they seemed to get all had the same robotic actor on them, overdramatically giving monologues, "hosting" or cooking things- awful things… that’s probably where Sans’ brother had gotten the recipe for the lasagna… 

She turned it back off, and decided to look through the windows to try to get an idea of the area she was in. Knowing that she was at least supposedly in danger, and most likely truly could be, she only peeped from the edges of the window for the first few minutes, but after noticing that there didn't seem to be anyone or anything outside but tall grass and flowers, she just looked through it normally. 

I thought they said we were in monster territory…? 

(Y/n) put a hand over her face. What if they were all the way on the other side of the monster territory? She certainly couldn't find any landmarks that looked familiar, and the tall buildings usually on the horizon seemed to be missing. 

Only more support for her 'Sans is actually a nice, though perverted, guy' theory… 

She sighed and decided to go look out the windows in Sans' room, thinking that maybe she'd see something familiar from higher up. 

(Y/n) was standing at the window, wondering what kind of flowers were in the field, when the door opened. She, of course, expected it to be Sans, this being his room and all, but the blood drained from her face was she saw the tall skeleton in the doorway. 

"HUMAN, I THOUGHT YOU WOULD PROBABLY GET HUNGRY, AND I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D BE ABLE TO FEND FOR YOURSELF," he shouted, sounding extremely put upon. "AND I KNEW SANS WOULD BE TOO LAZY TO REMEMBER TO FEED YOU, SO I- WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE?" He asked suspiciously, cutting himself off before getting to his point about how much of a hassle it would be if she died from starvation.  

Her color had gotten paler when she'd seen him, and her eyes had started darting around the room, as though taking stock of what she could use as a weapon. Papyrus automatically did a check and found that not only did she have a blue soul, denoting her strong integrity, but it seemed to have a bit of a purple glow around the edges showing her perseverance, looking a bit like blue velvet; blue, but purple in the shadows caused by the texture, and she had an extremely low LOVE, around that of a child's, and was surprised that her desire to find a weapon went so against her stats. 

It must be a survival tactic, then. Probably to defend against any oncoming attacks.

She posed no threat to him, but he applauded her instinct to be ready to fight if necessary. 

She swallowed harshly and managed to rasp out a broken whisper. "Loo-n-  ou-si-." She pointed out the window to try to help him understand what she was saying. 

He seemed to have dismissed her, though, looking around the room. "OH MY GOD!!" 

She jumped at his exclamation. Did she do something wrong by cleaning? 

"THIS IS THE CLEANEST I'VE SEEN MY LAZY BROTHER'S ROOM SINCE WE MOVED IN!! BUT, WHY DIDN'T YOU DO THE LAUNDRY? IT'S JUST SITTING HERE IN PILES." 

"C-ou-... cou-n't fi-d," she rasped, shaking her head nervously apologetic. Her hand went to her throat, and the way she winced showed how hard on her throat just getting that much out was. 

Papyrus hummed, his fingers lifting to his chin. It would make sense that she wouldn't wash them if she couldn't find anything to do it with. "FEAR NOT, HUMAN! I, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS, WILL SHOW YOU WHERE THE WASHING MACHINE IS! AND HOW TO USE IT!!" 

(Y/n) opened her mouth to object that she did know how a washer worked, but it didn't matter, because he had just turned and started out the door with, "COME, HUMAN, AND BRING A PILE OF LAUNDRY!!" 

After having the instructions on how to use the machine yelled at her, for no particular reason, she was glad that it had been Sans that had found her, and that Papyrus had only come to check on her and would be leaving soon. She didn’t know how long she’d be able to stay in his presence without constantly being on the edge of a panic attack. 

When she came back into the front room from where the laundry room was, behind a hidden door in the kitchen, Papyrus was standing a little awkwardly near the door. 

"W-WELL… I CAN'T SPEND ALL DAY MAKING SURE THAT YOU DON'T DIE! I HAVE TO GO! …" He stood silently for another moment, then announced, "I'M GOING." 

(Y/n) gave a smile and waved, the most she could do without hurting her throat further or risking offending him, and had to hold back a laugh as the start of a red glow touched his cheeks and he looked flustered for a millisecond before he gave a tug to straighten his outfit before he turned and walked out through the door. 

After Papyrus left, (Y/n) mostly just hung around and did laundry, looking through things, but not finding much for her to do until she found a deck of cards, then she sat on the floor and played solitaire, pausing only when the laundry was done, to fold it and put it on the desk chair, not wanting to dig around in Sans’ drawers. 

He was a guy… guys had… stuff … that she’d rather not stumble across… especially due to the strange things that had apparently turned him on before. Also, being a skeleton monster made him different from every other guy she'd known, and the thought of finding super weird fetish stuff that she'd inevitably be morbidly curious about gave her pause. 

She wasn't a "freak" but… curiosity was something that had gotten the better of her before, and some things in life, you just didn't need to know. 

.

(Y/n) had finished the few loads of laundry, folded them, and turned to just playing card games by herself on Sans’ bed by the time the door opened and Sans walked in, looking tired and sweating a weird sort of translucent, but red tinged, perspiration. 

He stepped in and closed the door behind him before looking up, but then froze in place and swept his shocked and slightly horrified gaze around the room. 

For the second time that day, she wondered if she'd done something wrong by cleaning Sans' room. 

He stiffly walked to the chair and pushed the laundry off onto the floor. 

(Y/n) made an indignant noise from the bed, but heard him mutter, "too clean…" 

Ahh, so he's one of those people who need a little disorder to feel comfortable , she noted, feeling the anxiety leaving her as he tossed his coat on the chair and turned to her. 

He smiled and lifted a bag onto the bed. "i, uh- i uh- gotcha some stuff…" His expression shifted to that angry sort of flustered look he'd had before, paying close attention to how his other hand was fiddling with the edge of his red sweater. "somethin' ta wear, s-so ya don't have ta keep wearin' dirty clothes…" 

Sans glanced over at her and felt another pang in his chest at the beautiful smile she was giving him. 

fuck-! so adorable! an'... why d'i feel disappointed that she's not wearing my clothes, now?  

(Y/n) smiled at him, mouthing thank you . She hesitated before nervousness seemed to grow over her a little and her gaze focused on the bed. 

“wassup, sweetheart?” He asks, feeling a bit nervous about what was on her mind. 

She gestured, asking, can I go home? She immediately winced and glanced up at him then back to the bed, as though she were worried he was going to hit her. 

Sans felt his soul throb painfully at the thought of her leaving, and his hand automatically went to it. He realized what he was doing, and changed the movement to scratching his sternum through his sweater. Luckily, he had a reason for her to stay. He move the bag onto the floor, then sat on the mattress and laid back with his shoulders about even with her, making himself comfortable as he told her, “i talked ta alla my contacts, an’ it sounds like no one knows ‘xactly where ya are, but they definitely know that there’s a human on monster turf.” 

Her brow dipped in confusion and she asked, how?  

Sans shrugged as he put his arms behind his head, his fingers running over a crack on the back of his skull. “dunno fer sure-” ok, it might have been from his asking so blatantly if anyone had seen a human around- “but i hadda getcha here somehow. coulda jus’ been spotted on th’ way. tough luck, but, should be good in two or three days. ‘f we wait fer three, they’ll most likely ferget ta be lookin’ fer ya.” 

(Y/n) eyed him, and he was glad that he’d already been sweating so that she hopefully didn’t notice the fresh round of perspiration beading on his skull. Finally, she seemed to accept it, and he let out an internal sigh of relief. 

“so, you, uh, ya have an ok day?” She gave a half nod half shrug. “noticed ya cleaned up ‘round here… an’ i appreciate th’ thought behind it, sweetheart, ‘s real sweet a ya, but, i gotta ask ya; please don’t. kinda wigs me out when ‘s too clean. like it’s a fake fuckin’ storybook,” he muttered. 

She put a hand on his arm, and it felt like Sans’ soul tumbled around his rib cage. He looked up to see the apologetic look on her face. Sorry...

Apologies? Yeah… Those were something that never happened in the Underground. 

In a kill or be killed world, any sign of niceness was seen as a form of weakness, so niceties had been dropped long ago. 

The way his sweetheart was so nice, showing kindness and caring was definitely something he liked about her, but… it also made him uncomfortable. 

Sans would never turn away from her for her weakness, he wanted to protect her, keep her with him and safe. But… he didn't know how to react to this kindness. So he again took it to a place he was more comfortable with. 

“ah, dollface, don’t worry ‘bout it…” He turned and his thumb went out to run down her cheek, trying not to let the tiny flinch get to him. “if it’d make ya feel better, i know somthin’ ya could do ta make it up ta me…” He gave her a smirky grin and took his hand back, putting a fingertip on his cheek. “how ‘bouta kiss?” He watched her gaze turn wary, her body stiffening like she was getting ready to bolt. 

False, flirty affection and innuendo was so much easier to handle than real affection, even if he wanted her affection like a starving man wanted food. It seemed, though, that she knew how to take flirting about as well as he knew how to take a compliment, so he again changed directions.

 “kiddin’- ‘m kiddin’, doll,” he assured quickly, feeling a prick of pain in his soul. He was not kidding. He'd probably do anything to get her to willingly kiss him again. “heya, knock knock.”

She looked at him uncertainly, but lifted a brow and tilted her head. Who’s there?  

“sherlock,” he told her, watching as she puzzled over it. 

Sherlock who…? Seemed to be what she asked with her confused expression after a moment. 

“ sherlock yer door tight, sweetheart,” he told her, watching as her eyes closed as she took it in, then her posture changed as she silently chuckled. 

Sans’ smile widened in satisfaction that she enjoyed his joke. “knock knock, doll.”

She lifted her brow to ask who's there, but it was the cute little smile on her face that made his soul throb. 

“mustache,” he told her, watching her expression contort in confusion. 

Mustache? Can skeleton monsters even grow mustaches? What the hell? She thought and tilted her head inquiringly.

“ mustache ya a question, but i’ll shave it fer later,” he told her with a blow off expression, watching her giggle as squeaks and huffs left her. 

There… that adorable expression on her face was a much better look than her being worried that he was going to do something unpleasant to her. Even if the worry was justifiable, given his track record concerning her… 

He just watched her giggling for a moment, red spreading over the bridge of his nose. 

She tapped her hand to his arm and managed to ask, you know a lot of knock knock jokes?  

“knock knock,” he told her in answer, and she lifted a brow immediately in question. “rhino,” he told her. 

Oh, this one had to be good. She tilted her head and lifted her brow again. 

“ rhino every knock knock joke there is,” he told her, his grin getting a bit goofier at her reaction. Stars she was cute! “so, what else d’ja do?”

(Y/n) wondered if it was something normal for monsters to talk so comfortably with someone they’d only really just met the day before. It really seemed like some ideal relationship situation from some rom-com; he got home from work, told her about his day, asked about hers… The only thing missing was an actual relationship…

She masked the feelings her internal musings brought up with the ease of practice and gestured around the room. She was good at ‘don’t rock the boat.’ 

“jus’ this, huh?” He asked and she nodded before pointing at the cards, indicating that she'd also played cards. “sounds like a  good day ta me, but maybe ‘m jus’ lazy,” he said as he closed his eye sockets. A contented smile tilting his normal grin up. “‘m gonna try ta get a nap in before dinner. feel like joinin’ me?”

(Y/n) shook her head to answer him, knowing he could see her though his slightly open socket. 

“suit yerself, sweetheart,” he told her, shifting his shoulders as he got comfortable.

He seemed to almost immediately fall asleep, soft snores coming from him, and not even reacting when she’d waved her hand in front of his face. 

She went back to her card game, the weird feeling of being so comfortable around a strange man (one that had pushed her against the wall and basically rubbed against her, no less!) struck her as wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to be truly uncomfortable. 

Uneasy and worried from his actions sometimes? 

For sure. 

Uncomfortable? 

Nope. 

Something brushed against and down her back, laying against her butt. 

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder, seeing Sans' arm laid out behind her. She watched him closely, not wanting to miss any tell in his expression, but other than slightly rolling toward her, he still seemed asleep. 

She gave a doubtful glance, but it fell to the back of her mind as she continued her game. 

After a few minutes, she felt Sans rolling toward her more, his hand sliding over the bed, snaking over her thigh, wrapping around her waist and burying his face against her thigh. 

Oh, yeah. He's asleep, my ass, she mentally grumbled. 

She rolled her eyes and went back to her game, not entirely comfortable with this extent of touching, but she knew that some good friends got touchy and cuddled, so it wasn't some insanely strange concept to her, even if they weren't that close. 

Halfway through the next round of her game, (Y/n) felt Sans' arms tighten around her, and she looked down to see him rolling over onto his stomach, putting him on the cards and into her lap, his head awkwardly pressing against her. 

She tried to shift around to get rid of the discomfort of his skull pressing against her hip, and the weird kink he'd put in his neck vertebrae to do so. 

Of course, with all of her edging around his head, and their shifting around, she ended up laying back with him in her lap, his skull laying on her stomach. How could this end any other possible way with her luck?

Honestly, though, with all the terrible things he could possibly do to her, that she knew of and worried about, laying with his head on her stomach hadn't even made the list. 

She gave a shattered, huffing sigh that made her cough a little, but it cleared quickly. 

She kept herself ready in case she was going to have to defend herself from the skeleton, but folded her arms over her chest to feel like she had at least a little cover, and resigned herself to laying there until either he "woke up," or she had to convince him to move so she could use the bathroom. 

Sans tightened his arms around his sweetheart as she coughed, hating that he didn't have green magic to try and fix it instantly, but, thankfully, it quickly ended. 

He tried to be subtle, not wanting to give away that he was awake, but it was so hard when all he wanted to do was nuzzle into the soft squishiness of her belly. Especially when some of her squishiest bits were against his clavicle and were tempting him to rub against them… and give them a sniff…  

fuck- ya smell so fuckin' good, sweetheart… He mentally groaned to himself. 

(Y/n) shifted under him, but he didn't let it disturb him; he was an expert at pretending to sleep. 

"SANS-" 

The skeleton on her belly jumped at the loud voice, giving a grunt of surprise. 

"YOU BETTER BE DOWN HERE IN FIVE MINUTES TO EAT DINNER!!"

"paps, you fuckin' sonuvabitch," he grumbled to himself, not quite audible to (Y/n). 

"welp. dinner time, doll. you joinin' us downstairs 'gain t'night?" He asked as he sat up, not leaving the bed, or her pile of cards, but off of her. 

She gave him a nervous look, not wanting to be afraid, but also very afraid of the tall, loud skeleton downstairs. 

"aww, c'mon sweetheart, he ain't that bad. i mean, don't get me wrong, 'e's bad, but not that kind a bad." 

As strange as it was for her to trust anyone so quickly, his words kind of made her feel better about being in the same room as the taller skeleton.  

She followed him downstairs, deciding that she was misreading the look on his face and posture as content and proud, as though she trusted him to be her knight in a red sweater; it was probably just self confidence. 

God knew she'd never felt that much of it to know. 

Sans pulled out a chair for her, but instead of waiting to push her in, he sat in the chair next to it and shifted the seat, pulling it closer to him when she sat. 

(Y/n) would protest, but she really did feel safer being closer to him, and farther away from the other skeleton. 

He served her a small slice of lasagna, and she knew that it was because he knew it was going to taste awful, and he didn't want to stick her with too much to eat instead of a plot to starve her. 

It was a quiet dinner, much the same as the night before, with the toe of Sans' sneaker hitting the leg of her chair he was so close, and Papyrus giving her not at all hidden suspicious glares, as though he didn't think it was safe to hold a conversation in front of her. 

(Y/n) took another bite of the lasagna and hid her wince. 

She really should have hidden those spices earlier… 

A/N: Oh Sans... there's a difference between telling Paps that he's an amazing cook and telling (Y/n) she has to stay there because there's no possible way she can get home. Also, I recently got a message from someone who had made fanart of another story I wrote and asked if I wanted to see it- uh, fuck yeah, I do! You kidding?! You were inspired by something I wrote?! I'm gonna fangirl... I love it even more because I can't draw... I guess what I'm saying is that if you do anything inspired from something I've written (art, stories, drabbles), you don't have to ask, there's a 100% chance I want to see it. And that I'll squeal.

[popatochisssp]

Purely because I can and because no one can stop me, the Diamond AU version of this post...

Sans (Undertale): Blue Diamond’s court is very relaxed and casual. Not many stand on ceremony and there’s a lot of free-floating Pearls and Sea Glass that don’t particularly belong to anyone and are just sort of snagged by whoever needs them and then dismissed when they’re done. You’re one such Sea Glass, plucked up at random by a bored Blue and told to do...whatever it is you do best, just go for it. You’re almost frozen by nerves for a moment, but you do your best to get over it and perform your talent for your Diamond...who promptly falls asleep. You spend a solid week thinking yourself a boring failure and awaiting a dismissive shattering, but the next time Blue Diamond picks out a gem to entertain him, he chooses you again. On purpose. Apparently, you’re not boring, you’re lulling, and there’s nothing your Diamond loves more than sleeping. You guess...you’ll take it???

Papyrus (Undertale): You’re at a gala hosted by the illustrious Orange Diamond... or at least, you’re supposed to be. It’s the first ever party he’s thrown and no one’s quite sure how to act, what to do, how much fun, precisely, is allowed to be had... Even the highest ranking aristocratic gems are uncertain wallflowers, to say nothing of the servants like you who have so much more to lose by accidentally offending. Orange Diamond doesn’t look particularly pleased by the hesitance either, though, or the feedback-loop of anxiety that seems to be causing in everyone else. You suppose it’s chance that in a sweep of the room, it’s your eyes he meets. He marches straight to you, his physical form lighting up and beginning to change, shrinking around his gem, and by the time he reaches you said gem fills up his entire rib-cage but he’s your size...holding a gentlemanly hand out to you and asking if you’d care to dance. You can’t possibly refuse-- and seeing a Diamond dance with a simple Sea Glass certainly sets a standard of what’s ‘allowed’ at one of Orange’s balls. It may be your first dance, but it’s far from the last.

Sky (Underswap Sans): Yellow Diamond is always so busy, poring over budgets and reports and communications from all the other Diamonds, answering all kinds of questions, figuring out what to do and how the best way to do it is... It’s complicated stuff, lots of moving pieces, but he stays on top of it, for the bright future of the Empire! He has Pearls to assist with the minutiae anyway, plus fellow Diamonds to consult for the big stuff and he figures that’s probably about all he needs. He’s not sure how to take it, though, when a gem in a mostly unnoticed menagerie pipes up one day, unprompted, that he looks tired. You certainly have his attention when you say as much and you only double down when he picks you up to see you better. As a Sea Glass, you insist, you have a good sense for these things-- when’s the last time he took a break? Well, he................ Huh. You’ve got him there and as soon as he realizes it, he starts to laugh. Yellow Diamond is a straight-shooter who appreciates your brand of frankness and he thinks that maybe you’re the kind of gem he ought to keep around...? He’s been looking for an excuse--any excuse-- to go visit some more of Homeworld’s gardens and arboretums and you may be just the little enabler he’s been looking for!

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): As far as Diamonds’ niches go, Green Diamond’s isn’t necessarily a glamorous one, but it’s one he’s proud of. Gems need working warp pads and well-maintained spires, after all, and maybe most in his position wouldn’t actually go check on the status of repairs personally, but... Well, even he wants to get up off his rear-end occasionally, and he finds it reminds the people that he’s around and invested, which is always good to do. He’s only cursorily looking things over on one such visit, half-listening to the Peridot reporting to him on the status of repairs when a much louder voice pulls his already distracted attention elsewhere... to you, a poor, frightened looking Sea Glass getting screamed at by your Malachite. He can’t quite figure out, from all the yelling, what it is you were supposed to have done wrong, but the longer he listens, the less he cares. Your Malachite looks utterly horrified when he makes his way over and they start apologizing profusely for the unseemly display, but he’s never been big on the whole punishment thing. He’d rather just...right the wrong. For you, that means being plucked up by a Diamond and settled on his shoulder, casual as anything as he announces, “this one’s mine, i’m takin’ ‘em.” So... you guess that makes you... Green Diamond’s now??? This is...probably going to take awhile to process...

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Red Diamond doesn’t have much of an entourage when it comes to non-combat-specialized gems. He’s always refused Pearls and cited the rough and tumble nature of fighting on the front lines to expand the empire as the reason he won’t even keep a harem of Sea Glass for entertainment. One Sea Glass is more than enough for him and that’s you, your Diamond’s tiny treasured favorite. You are utterly spoiled for your gem type and you know it, spending most of your days lounging on the small army of pillows he’s amassed around you to keep you safe, even if you should somehow poof. It would be easy to write yourself off as his pet... if you hadn’t seen firsthand how attentively he watches you when you perform for him, or the way he only really relaxes when he’s alone with you, stroking your back or telling you jokes or asking you to glow for him. As crazy as it seems, you’re pretty sure that Red Diamond’s heart is truly yours... and maybe someday, you’ll actually work up the courage to ask him if that’s true.

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): Black Diamond has many Sea Glass and a handful of Pearls to attend him. You’re among their number and you’ve started to notice something. Something... upsetting. In public, all his other servants and entertainers seem to have free rein when it comes to his person-- they’re allowed to stand by his feet, to hop into his open palm, even to perch up on his shoulder! But not you. Whenever he sees you, you’re promptly picked up and held like a doll in his closed fist, forbidden to roam about or stand where you choose and you have no idea what that means. Does he...not trust you? Does he think you’re the type to run away? You certainly can’t do much to entertain, held like that, so does he...not want you to perform where others can see? Are you an embarrassment?! You spend a lot of time fretting about this, worrying yourself to be inadequate, before you finally understand it. Black Diamond’s brought you to a war meeting, holding you in his gently closed fist as always, and you watch a fusion of quartzes-- enough to be more than half the height of your Diamond himself--run in with urgent news. Carelessly, they run into a Sea Glass and you flinch to see the poor gem poof and then shatter under their feet... and when her owner starts to squawk in outrage, Black Diamond’s hand squeezes around you. “THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU LEAVE PRECIOUS THINGS OUT TO BE TRAMPLED,” he says to quiet the other gem before demanding the update from the quartz. The war meeting continues on all around you, but protected there in your Diamond’s grip, his thumb idly stroking your hair... you start to feel warm.

Mal (Swapfell Sans): The gem who made you is not your master. You don’t know that you’d want the Ametrine with wild and unpleasant mood swings to be your master, but you also don’t particularly love your situation because you’re meant to be a gift for the luminous Purple Diamond...a gem who’s never once taken a Sea Glass and who only begrudgingly allows an assistant Pearl. The Ametrine seems confident that you’re well-made enough to be an exception, something that will win her a Diamond’s favor, but when the moment comes that you’re to be handed over... Purple Diamond hardly seems impressed with you. You kind of want to run and hide as he stares you down and the Ametrine just keeps talking about what a good gift you’ll be and how much you’ll enrich his life and you really just want her to shut up, but she won’t and you are genuinely starting to fear for your future at this point. And then Purple Diamond’s Pearl speaks up, saying... well, all manner of unkind things about you and how you’re unnecessary, just a knockoff, bootleg Pearl that is obviously not needed in the presence of the real thing. Apparently, this is your saving grace: as you come to find out later, Purple Diamond isn’t all that fond of his Pearl--mostly because he hates to be spoken for--and nothing in that moment made you quite so appealing as the opportunity to be contrary. He reaches down, offering his hand for you to step into as his Pearl sputters and protests and just like that, you are a Diamond’s Sea Glass, exactly as planned. ...You wonder how it’s going to pan out.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): You never expected to end up alone, on a colony-in-progress, standing over Violet Diamond’s gem. The organics were supposed to have been driven off and no one had thought they had the power to dissipate a quartz’s body, much less a Diamond’s. The rest of the entourage had already scattered, not wanting to stay and find out what these lifeforms could do to lesser gems if they could take down the most powerful among them. The Sea Glass like you, you could understand, but the soldiers and guards you cursed out vigorously for leaving you here alone, with organics closing in on you. You...probably should’ve run with the rest, but... Violet Diamond was always kind to you, holding you carefully and letting you rest in the hood of his cloak and showing you interesting and usually fuzzy things from each new world he explored... Those fond memories wouldn’t let you leave him defenseless, and even though you’re only one fragile Sea Glass, you find the strength somewhere in your gem to summon something to defend yourself with. Luck is on your side and you don’t have to fight for long, Purple Diamond and a whole host of troops arriving to drive back the little rebellion and all you can do is stand there shaking and clutching your rudimentary weapon. Violet Diamond reforms quickly and when Purple tells him what you did, he looks at you with...the softest and most sincere smile you’ve ever seen. “guess i know who my real friends are, huh?” he muses, scooping you up into his hand. It takes a lot of shushing and soothing before you can calm down, but he gets you there. You feel like there’s been a shift in your relationship, though...and it feels like a good one.

Slate (Horrortale Sans): You’re the first-- the prototype for a new kind of gem, a Sea Glass. You’ve gone through all the preliminary analyses and tests and now you’re being presented to Gray Diamond to decide if your type is viable. His expression is too hard for you to read as he looks down at you from his impressive height, asking quiet questions to your handlers about your cut and specs and purpose. You’ve never been more scared in all your four or five planet rotations than when he picks you up in his massive hand, using his other to carefully tug at your limbs and nudge your face this way and that to get a better look at all of you. “...cute,” seems to be his final judgment, and then looking you right in the eye, “woulda loved to’ve been there when you formed. bet it was a real sight to see.” It’s...it’s probably the most flattering thing anyone has ever said about you, and the fact that it’s your first compliment ever doesn’t cheapen it at all. You’re flattered, happy, and totally beyond your control, you start to do something you’ve never done before: you glow. It surprises everyone, most of all yourself, and Gray Diamond looks at you with one wide eye-socket, practically awed (which does not make your glowing problem lessen at all). “think i’ll hold onto this one,” he tells the engineers. “try ‘em out, see if we could use more.” There are many more Sea Glass made after you, but you’re the only one kept by Gray Diamond.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): You’re a cracked Sea Glass. If there’s one thing gems in your situation aren’t, it’s ‘in short supply,’ so you are only one of dozens sitting in Brown Diamond’s research facilities. Nobody’s ever really explained to you what they’re trying to do here and it’s never been your place to question, but neither are you stupid and you realize, sitting beneath all their scanners and nodes and experimental devices, that the technicians here are trying to fix you. You can’t imagine how beneficial that research would be to the Empire-- to more important gems than you, especially-- so you continue to comply with all the tests and treatments obediently, understanding your purpose as a guinea pig; the coal-mine-canary. Brown Diamond himself comes to speak to you one day and he’s kinder than you expected him to be, even shapeshifting himself smaller to talk to you easier. He seems unduly concerned with your comfort levels and you feel compelled to assure him that you don’t mind experiencing pain or unpleasantness if it’s to find out how to fix broken gems like you. He looks at you strangely, like you said something silly. “You Don’t Need To Be Fixed,” he says. “You’re Not Broken, Just Hurt.” And to your surprise, he goes on to say that you and the others like you aren’t expendable in all this research, like you’d thought-- in fact, everything stops if it looks like a treatment may hurt you or damage your gem any worse than it already is, no matter how promising it is otherwise. “I Want To Help Gems Here,” he explains, “Not Hurt Them,” and just like that, in that one moment of moving empathy... you think you may have a crush on a Diamond. Much as you’d very much like to not be cracked anymore, you hope that it takes the scientists a long time to figure out this healing thing, so you can see him a lot more often...

[yastaghr]

Our Skeleton 36 - Machine and Machinations

Summary: Sans, Papyrus, and Alphys work on a machine to help everyone remember when Frisk has to LOAD. Everyone else works up a plan of action to use against the parent-creatures.

Warnings: Real World Issues

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563223/chapters/60380821

“everything is temporary, everything will slide! love will never die, die, die. i know that ooh~ birds fly in diff-”

Sans’ distracted half-mumbling, half-singing was interrupted by the creak of the basement door. He looked up from the machine he was actively working on and smiled a truly lazy smile at the monsters walking down the stairs. Alphys and Papyrus were coming down the steps with milk crates full of scraps in their arms. Alphys had one crate of electronic components. Papyrus had three full of scrap metal and bits of wiring. Sans quickly lept over and took the wobbling crate on the top of the stack out of his brother’s arms and carried it over to the lab bench.

“thanks, guys,” Sans chuckled, “it’d take me hours to find all this stuff. it’s been a while since i did any tinkering, so i’ve got no idea where the dump is up here. i’m nowhere near as good at machines as you are, alph, but i thought i’d give this a shot.”

Alphys set her loaded box on the table next to the one Sans had set there and shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her finger. “I d-d-don’t know if I would say that, S-s-sans. your ideas for the heating coils in the hot fridge were genius! I, um, would never have thought about running electricity through ionized air like that.”

Sans blew out a huff of air. It wasn’t a sigh; it was more like an expression of fond exasperation.

“i didn’t come up with that one, alph, the humans did. i…”

He hesitated. How exactly did he learn about that? He couldn’t remember ever actually reading about it. He could vaguely recall someone telling him about it, someone tall that he looked up to, even if they were eccentric. He usually had a pretty good memory, but this one was slipping away from him. Apparently his memory wasn’t good enough to transcend timelines. That had hurt a little bit to learn, especially when he found out that the plant could remember where he couldn’t. It was hardly going to stroke someone’s ego to find out a plant had a better memory than they did… What was he thinking about again?

Sans blinked at the two monsters who were blinking back at him. He was pretty sure that, by the expressions on their faces, Alphys and Papyrus had no idea what he was talking about, either.

“uh… sorry about that. i’ll just get back to my project.”

Alphys’ face flushed with an expression Sans could only name as bravery and determination. She stepped forward and said, “I-I-I’m going to help, Sans. I want to be able to remember when Frisk LOADs, too. That’s what your machine is for, um, right? To help everyone remember?”

Sans nodded, too surprised to respond properly. How had she known that?

“I’LL HELP, TOO! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE SPENT ENOUGH TIME WORKING ON THE PUZZLES IN SNOWDIN TO BE OF GREAT USE!”

Sans looked between the two of them until he got dizzy. Then he shook the cobwebs out of his head. If they wanted to help that was fine by him! “go ahead, guys. paps, do you think you can take apart the scrap with me? i can’t- no, we can’t do anything until we have more parts. and alph, maybe you can take a look at my code? i keep getting a stack overflow error that i can’t track down. there has to be an infinite loop somewhere, i just can’t find it.”

Both Alphys and Papyrus nodded their heads and grabbed the right tools for their respective jobs. Sans smiled. This machine was going to be finished in a snap!

=====

The living room was full of silence as the council of war got underway. Toriel and Asgore were sitting on either side of Frisk on the couch. Flowey was leaning in a window on the wall to their right. Undyne was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, her boots squeaking as she did so. Gerson was sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs that flanked the couch and faced the fireplace. Finally, Grillby was leaning against the other chair. His arms were crossed and his face was unreadable.

Grillby was the first person to break the silence. “..... We must do something about….. those awful people. They have done….. too much to hurt my boys and as….. Frisk has said, they are not above killing others. What should….. we do?”

Toriel broke the thoughtful quiet that followed his words. “The police would be the best option, would they not? They are trained and paid to do this kind of work.”

“NO!” Two voices and one set of arms objected. Frisk had signed as emphatically as they could. Asgore looked absolutely horrified, and Grillby was resigned. Toriel tilted her head in confusion, and Asgore answered her with an explanation.

“The police are not very nice, Toriel. They are one of the biggest groups of anti-monster people around. They are also very… bribeable. The parents of our datemate and his brother are quite rich. They would easily be able to pay their way out of this. The police would be more likely to arrest us than them.”

Frisk nodded vigorously and signed, [There’s a reason I made sure no monster joined the force. They hurt Undyne really bad a few times before I figured out it was them. That’s the reason her arm doesn’t go above her head anymore. They pulled it out of its socket completely.]

Toriel looked shocked. She protested, “But, they are supposed to protect and serve!”

Grillby shook his head. “..... There is nothing in their oaths about that. They….. are supposed to enforce the laws and….. protect the ruling class. They are notorious for….. bending the truth and attacking minorities like us….. humans of color….. and disabled people of every sort.”

Toriel’s face grew a layer of determination that had Frisk worrying about her health. Monsters weren’t really built to handle it… but, then again, Toriel was a Boss Monster. Maybe the rules were different for them. She said firmly, “Fine then, no police. But when we do go after them, none of us are going alone. And neither of the boys must be involved.”

Gerson agreed, “That’d be a bad idea. Who knows what they would do if they got their hands on them? And Frisk already said that they attack us if we go on our own.”

Frisk nodded. [It took me 19 LOADs to realise it wouldn’t work. I don’t want to do any more.]

Asgore, Toriel, and Grillby all shuddered as they thought about how much pain that must have caused Frisk. The others nodded in agreement. Flowey said, “I doubt we’ll get away with this without a few more, Frisk. But there’s definitely a few tricks that can make you have to do less. For one thing, you need to avoid a fight screen. They’re both crazy powerful and they cheat, just like Sans. They also aren’t above using attack magic outside of a fight screen, so be ready for that. Finally, don’t go after them together. They’re way more powerful as a team.]

Undyne narrowed her one eye. “You seem to know an awful lot about them for someone I’ve never met before, flower.”

Flowey shrugged. “I had the power to LOAD and RESET long before Frisk did. I’ve done everything under the sun in the name of boredom. Frisk is a goody two shoes by comparison. They hardly killed anyone their first time, and they didn’t kill anyone at all in this timeline. Not even Jerry.”

Undyne frowned. “Don’t think you’ll get away with saying that because of this, but you’re right. It’s always better to divide your enemies’ forces. It’s just good tactics.”

Toriel nodded. “Then it is decided. No police, no going alone, and divide them up to make them weaker. Now, how will we accomplish this? Should we split into two teams and go after them at the same time, or should we concentrate our forces on one or the other?”

Gerson coughed and motioned to Flowey. “If the plant’s right about their power then I’d say we go after one at a time. That way there are more people to back each other up in a fight.”

Frisk signed, [Roman spends most of his time at the house, so we should go after him there. The only problem is the servants. They’ll probably side with Roman. After all, he’s the one who’s paying them.”

A devious smile crossed Undyne’s face. “Not if someone else doesn’t pay them more. I bet they only put up with those parent creatures because of the money. We could send them an offer to work for better wages somewhere else.”

Asgore frowned. “But who could we convince to pay them like that? Normally it takes quite a while for a servant to be hired. There are interviews and paperwork galore!”

Undyne’s smile only grew. “The university, of course. They’re putting together a training college for home aids. I’m sure they’d love to get all of their positions filled by people who have actually worked in the industry. And if you suggest it, I’m doubly sure they’ll be on board.”

Toriel nodded while Asgore sat there, stunned. “That is a most agreeable plan. We’ll make the appropriate calls as soon as we decide what to do about Coursiva.”

Grillby spoke up. “Perhaps we can….. go and retrieve her from her….. workplace. What is it she does again?”

Flowey answered, “She works for one of those think tank places. It’s one of the ones that goes after disabled people, especially autistic people. She hates them so much it’s ridiculous. That think tank is behind the stupid fad for not vaccinating your children. There’s a reason those things exist!”

Everyone in the room nodded. That whole idea tree was stupid as heck.

“Then, the plan is this: We go after Roman in his home while his wife is at work, then we track down Coursiva at her workplace and bring both to the Embassy for… further investigation. If we can prove that they have done what we think they have done then we can banish them to the Underground, can we not? That seems like a fitting punishment to me,” Toriel said decisively.

Gerson nodded. “We can put them in room 3b. That’s the most secure room in the Embassy. I’d challenge anyone to break out of that.”

Asgore, Undyne, and Frisk all nodded. They knew the room in question. Toriel, who was less familiar with the Embassy, asked, “We should test that, should we not? I do not want either of them to escape. Who knows what they would do once they are aware that their cover is blown?”

[undertalethingies]

The Third Worst Day

Loosely inspired by the ninth chapter of @undertalethingems Unexpected Guests comic, and by the end of John Mulaney’s Delta Airlines bit. (“In fact, we’re gonna frame you for MURDER! [...] ~Because we’re Delta Airlines, and life is a fucking nightmare~”)

Sans was not having the shittiest day of his life, because everyone was on the surface and Frisk was being nice this timeline. 

The second shittiest day, though- well, no, not that either, technically speaking. Nothing was on fire except maybe Undyne’s house underground, and that just because no one could be bothered to put it out when everyone was moving to the surface anyway. (Please don’t ask about the second shittiest day of Sans’ life, he will not tell you and will instead have flashbacks)

Ugh, it was really indicative that this BS only ranked third.

So, the curtain opens on the third shittiest day of Sans’ life, and maybe, like, the eighth worst thing to ever happen to him.

What could be bad enough to rank on Sans’ top ten worst days list, though? (which is a list he actually made once, as a joke, and then he looked at it and kind of wanted to cry, before laughing instead because that’s just how Sans copes with things)

Well, you see, he was being framed for murder.

Flowey, specifically, was currently attempting to frame him for the death of the old royal scientist, W.D Gaster, who Sans had met maybe once in his entire life.

Admittedly, the fact that he actually remembered said meeting, and that there had been a previous royal scientist at all, was highly unusual.

He didn’t remember for anywhere close to the reasons Flowey was insinuating, though. No, the reason Sans remembered the old royal scientist had very little to do with the scientist himself and a lot more to do with how remembering across timelines was triggered in the first place.

Cross-timeline memory retention (which are the Official Science Words for it) was triggered by high levels of Determination. No more, no less. And Sans had very high DT levels for a monster. It was pretty much the only reason he’d managed to make it to adulthood with just a single point of HP to his name. (Undyne remembered a bit too, he suspected, though he’d never called her on it)

So the reason Sans remembered the existence of Gaster was the same reason he had what little knowledge he did of the RESETs, though he remembered far less of those, due to having fewer triggers for the memories to resurface. (The fact that no one knew who had built the CORE had been enough for Sans’ mind to fill in the blanks)

Flowey was saying that Sans remembered because he’d known the guy, which was just flat out wrong. The weed was insinuating that Sans couldn’t possibly due the things he did without being a scientist, which was partially true, and finally accusing him of killing Gaster, either to steal his research or because Sans was the Judge, (Nice of Flowey to out him, the little shit) which was blatant slander.

Sans could see that the others (excluding Alphys, who knew the story was bullshit) didn’t want to believe what Flowey was saying, but he could also see that, despite that fact, he was still convincing them.

Flowey, after all, was a very skilled liar. Especially when it came to convincing people of crazy backstories he’d concocted on the spot. It made sense, since he’d had rather a lot of practice.

As Flowey finished his story, Sans looked at Alphys. He texted her a question about an old promise he’d made to her that was suddenly not one he was sure he should keep. (He’d do it anyway, if she asked, but breaking it would make disproving Flowey’s allegations that much easier.)

“And that’s why- are you on your PHONE?” Flowey interrupted himself, looking hilariously offended for someone who was actively framing a guy for murder.

“Is that how little you care? You killed him and you can’t even be bothered to hear out the allegation?” Oh, so that’s how he was playing it. Sans narrowed his eyes, just a bit, before responding.

“eh, you looked like you were having fun. wouldn’t want to interrupt, ya know?” Earlier in the conversation, when Sans was still actively participating, Flowey had interrupted him several times. Alphys snickered at his jab, and hit the send button on her phone.

Sans checked the text, and inwardly sighed in relief. Seemed like he could take the easy way out here.

“Sans, please put away your phone. This is a serious conversation,” Toriel said. Sans supposed he had to agree to disagree on that one. This wasn’t much of a conversation at all as much as it was Flowey using his knowledge to manipulate the room in a way that allowed him to frame Sans for murder.

“yeah, don’t worry, tori. it was relevant,” She looked as if she doubted that, but she didn’t say anything. Sans sent Alphys a quick thank-you and stuck the offending device back in his pocket. He turned to look at Flowey, who probably would have shrunk from the ice in his gaze if Flowey had ever bothered to figure out how to read his expressions.

“so, you done, pal?” There were several winces around the room at the vitriol present in his tone, but none of them belonged to Flowey.

“Yeah, I think I’ve made my point pretty clear!” Flowey looked positively cheerful at the thought.

“good, ‘cause i’m getting pretty tired of hearing you speak. don’t want a repeat of the last time you tried something like this, right?” Last time Flowey had attempted something like this with Sans present, the weed had still been in control of the timeline. Sans had killed him before he could even finish his speech.

“Ha! You wouldn’t dare! Not when Frisk is-” Flowey cut himself off before he could dig all three of them (four of them?) into a hole they really wouldn’t be able to talk their way out of. Frisk shot him a glare, with an expression that said they’d probably kill Flowey themselves, if he didn’t shut his trap. The weed gulped audibly.

“A-anyway! Are you gonna explain yourself, trashbag?” Papyrus made the same pinched expression he always did when Flowey used that particular moniker.

“heh. sure, why not,” Sans’ grin turned predatory. 

“i’m not gonna bother asking you to back your claims with evidence, since we both know you don’t actually have any,” Flowey narrowed his eyes, probably thinking of a thousand ways to justify that, but Sans continued without giving a chance.

“you’re right that i used to be a scientist, so kudos for that, i guess. my leaving the field had nothing to do with gaster, though. it actually happened quite a while after that,” Sans preferred not to talk about this, but with Flowey forcing his hand, it seemed like the simplest solution.

“my leaving had nothing to do with gaster, and everything to do with the experiments that got alph fired,”

--

When Sans had been younger and more optimistic, he’d wanted to be a scientist more than anything in the world. He’d spend hours combing through the dump for old textbooks, and the few he found, he’d pore over until he had them practically memorized.

So when an ad went out saying that the new royal scientist was looking for an assistant, he’d jumped at the opportunity. Sans had spent hours studying for the required tests, barely even eating in his complete dedication to the task before him.

Sans didn’t know whether he’d had the highest score, or if he’d been selected for his blue magic, (a rare ability that was extremely useful for engineering) or if had simply been because he lived so close to the lab at the time, but he got the job. He’d celebrated for a day straight, and would probably have irritated the hell out of Papyrus if they’d been living together at the time. (Sans was in that young adult phase where he lived alone in a shitty apartment because he was trying to be independent)

When he’d first met Alphys, he was not ashamed to admit to having geeked out a bit. She was considered one of the greatest minds of their generation, after all. 

He’d tried to keep it to a minimum, though, (correctly) figuring that she wouldn’t have much use for him as an assistant if he was too busy with hero worship to contribute anything.

Though they’d been awkward together at first, they’d quickly warmed up to each other, and soon at least half of the new innovations exiting the lab had their roots in Sans’ ideas as much as Alph’s.

Quickly enough, they’d become best friends.

And then…

Then had come the Determination experiments.

Both Alphys and Sans had agreed it would be best not to allow the amalgamates out of the True Lab. Alphys had confined herself to her workplace, moving in a bed and her anime collection so she’d only have to leave for the occasional grocery run.

Sans had kept his status as her assistant under wraps, though, so he didn’t have to worry about being cornered by the victims’ families like she did. Papyrus had mentioned recently that he was looking for someone to go in halfsies with him on a housing lease in Snowdin, so Sans did what he did best, and ran away from his problems, packing his stuff and moving just about as far from Hotland as it was possible to get without entering the Ruins.

He and Alph stayed friends, though. When you’re the only two people who know about a catastrophic disaster like that, it kinda brings you together.

--

Sans finished his explanation with a nod to Alphys, before saying,

“and as for gaster, the only connection i’ve got to the guy is that i named an attack after him in honor of his scientific prowess,”

The room was silent for a few moments as everyone thought through his words. Suddenly, Flowey said,

“Yeah, that’s all well and good, but how did you even know about him? Everyone else forgot he ever existed!” Sans smiled secretively.

“probably the same way you do, asriel,” Let no one say he couldn’t give as good as he got. If Sans had to share his backstory, well.

Might as well take the flower down with him.

[skeletorific]

Play My Heart in Swing Time- A Ko-fi and Kisses Drabble. GN!Reader/MT!Papyrus+UT!Sans+US!Sans

a drabble for @iliterallyhavenolife , who has been wonderfully patient. Hope you like it, it was a lot of fun to write!

“You know, if you guys ever relaxed the dress code, I might actually swing by this place more often,” Sans said, adjusting his tie for the twelfth time while he did a sweeping glance of the smoky interior of Grillby’s bar. Lucky had no doubt that this alternate of his brother would quickly be stripping both it and the dark blue sports coat he had donned for the occasion, but frankly, he had larger concerns right now.

“I QUITE LIKE IT, ACTUALLY,” Blue said, who had favored a light grey with cyan pinstripes that matched his eyes. “STILL, ALL THESE CIGARETTES CAN’T BE GOOD FOR HUMANS-”

Lucky held up a hand for silence, leaning across the bar to try and catch Grillby’s eye. Normally he didn’t like being rude but he was a bit desperate to make sure he hadn’t missed it.

Finally, the blue fireman saw him and came over, wiping out a glass. “back again?” He crackled softly.

“ARE THEY-”

“They’re still on,” he said, with definite amusement, but Lucky only sighed in obvious relief, collapsing onto a stool.

“Alright, man, what’s up? You’re looking a bit rattled.” That joke was even weak by his brother’s standards, but he couldn’t manage more than a vaguely annoyed glare before riveting his attention to the stage. Sans took a seat on his left side, leaning on the counter and ordering a drink.

“YES, WHAT WAS SO IMPORTANT? INK SAID YOU SOUNDED...URGENT.” Blue said, sitting down on his right.

“.....THERE’S THIS PERFORMER.” Lucky said quietly (well, quietly for him). “THEY’RE...NOT FROM AROUND HERE. AT LEAST, I DON’T THINK SO. THEY’VE BEEN PLAYING HERE ONCE A WEEK, AND NO ONE AROUND HERE SEEMS TO KNOW MORE THAN A NAME. I WAS WONDERING IF EITHER OF YOU THOUGHT THEY LOOKED FAMILIAR.” Human tourists weren’t uncommon these days. Ink made his traveling service available to pretty much everyone who knew how to get in contact with him, and it wasn’t uncommon to see plenty of wide-eyed humans wandering in a world that wasn’t their own.

“ONE OF THE DETERMINED HUMANS, OR...” Blue said, referring broadly to the Frisks and Swap Charas.

“I...I DON’T THINK SO. THEY DIDN’T LOOK LIKE ONE, AT LEAST.”

“they causing trouble or something? why do you need information this bad-”

“....I-I WAS HOPING FOR AN INTRODUCTION.” Lucky blurted out, cheekbones glowing a bright vermillion.

Blue and Sans exchanged a look and then matching mischievous grins.

“I SEE...”

“so, the crack shot finally took a...bullet to the heart, huh?”

“MMM!” Lucky groaned, burying his face in his hands. “LOOK, YOU TWO...YOUR WORLDS SEEMED LIKE A GOOD FIT AND...FOR WHATEVER REASON I FEEL LIKE YOU’RE LESS LIKELY TO BALL THIS UP FOR ME.”

“OF COURSE WE’LL HELP!” Blue said, patting his shoulder encouragingly.

“And hey, even if we don’t recognize them, might work as wingmen-”

“UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES.”

“its starting” Grillby said, who had been watching this whole conversation. Lucky sat bolt upright, making the other two snicker. Still, neither Blue nor Sans could resist looking with interest at the stage as the last performer was ushered off with applause and Mettaton took over, looking around the crowded bar with a dazzling metallic grin.

“Well, hot dawg, aren’t they just marvelous?” Scattered applause. “Kisses, darling, thanks for coming out. And now, for a returning favorite, and an old friend, its Shyren, with a new member of her little band, Kai! Knock em dead, dolls!”

Shyren, Aaron, and Napstablook took the stage, Shyren looking like she wanted to pass out from nerves, as always. Napstablook sat down by the drum. Aaron flexed for the pleasure of the audience (several of whom screamed very loud), before picking up the sax.

Alongside was the cutest human any of them had ever seen. They were a bit chubby, with a sweet open face under bright blue hair that caught the stage lights well. They seemed fairly nervous too but gave a bright wave out into the audience. Sans could notice the blush growing brighter on Lucky’s cheekbones, and bit back a smile.

Kai picked up the guitar. The band all exchanged nods, and then Shyren signaled the piano player.

“A one two three four...”

The band meshed well together. None of them could tear the eyes of their human. They were focused on their performance, to be sure, but they seemed to be having fun with it. When Shyren would stumble on a note they’d make a goofy face, emboldening her a bit. The audience began to get into the performance and they seemed to latch onto that, encouraging it along.

“THEY’RE...” Blue seemed to be developing his own flush.

“AMAZING” Lucky said with a forlorn sigh.

Sans tried to make a joke, but in the end, all he could do was murmur “fuck”

After far too short a time, the four of them exited the stage, flushed and excited. Mettaton started introducing the next act but the three of them just exchanged a look.

“SO...ANYONE, YOU KNOW?”

Blue shook his head, straining his neck to try and keep an eye on them

“think I’d remember something like them” He mumbled.

“WELL...IT WAS WORTH A SHOT...” Lucky said weakly, unable to tear his eyes away.

“.....fuck it, we’re going over,” Sans said, getting to his feet. Before the other two could react he’d wrapped his hands around their wrists and teleported to the other end of the room, near where they are. Both of them were startled and started to protest, but realized they were within earshot and shifted into whispers.

“WE CAN’T JUST-”

“Look, I think we’re all gonna regret it if we just let it slip past. If they’re not from any of our worlds, then who knows when we’ll see them again.” He stuck out his hand towards both of them. “We’ll all make our shot and let them make up their mind. Deal?”

“.....” They both looked at the hand, clearly wavering.

“WELL...I ALWAYS AM UP FOR A ROMANTIC ENCOUNTER.” Blue said, putting his hand on top of his.

Sans looked at Lucky. “c’mon, you really wanna spend another few weeks attached to the counter of this place, wishing you’d acted sooner? A one in three chance is better than months with no shot at all.”

Lucky grimaced...but straightened his hat, placing his hand on top of the pile. “ALRIGHT”

“MAYBE WE’LL GET LUCKY AND THEY’LL LIKE ALL THREE OF US?”

“We’ll see, bud, we’ll see.” Sans broke it and turned towards them, tapping them on the shoulder.

They turned to face him and smiled. “Oh, hi!” Fuck, they were even cuter up close, their face had a whole galaxy of freckles going on.

“hi,” he said, recovering quickly and shoving his hands in his pockets, grinning. “Uh, me and my friends back there just wanted to letcha know we enjoyed the show.”

“Oh, thank you so much! Um, to you too” they said, turning their smile on the other two. Lucky stiffened a bit and Blue smiled back just as bright. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Name’s Sans. Sans the Skeleton” He held out his hand.

“Oh, Kai!” They shook his hand enthusiastically. “And, you two?”

“I’M BLUE,” He said, coming forward and shaking their hand too.

Kai grinned and gave him a light buddy punch, which made Blue giggle. “Nice to meet you, Blue.” They finally looked at Lucky. “Oh, hey, I’ve seen you here before haven’t I?”

“....YES....”

“Well, it's nice to finally meet you.” They held out their hand. “Kai”

Before the other two could blink Lucky had taken their hand and pressed a gentle kiss to their knuckles before releasing it just as quickly, doffing his hat and giving them that boyish smile that made him seem like such a non-threat to the cops. “LUCKY. NICE TO MEET YOU TOO. I’M A BIG FAN.”

Damn it, looks like the family charm came for both brothers. And he was such a stammering blusher before...

“We were just wondering if you and your friends wanted some drinks,” Sans said. Probably for the best if three strange men didn’t immediately try to get them somewhere alone.

“Well, my bandmates are actually gonna be heading home. I should be getting back myself, but...I’d love a drink before I leave!”

They all grinned. Perfect.

“RIGHT THIS WAY,” Lucky said, swooping in before the others and gently escorting them to the bar. Blue and Sans exchanged grins. Oh, no way were they letting him lead this whole thing.

“SO WHERE’D YOU LEARN TO PLAY GUITAR?” Blue said, moving onto the other side of them.

“These two are gonna fret you with questions, of chords”

Needless to say, they didn’t so much as think to call Ink for several hours, and they were treated to the sound of that laugh more than once, as well as a few puns of their own. They all left with their number, and the promise of more to come...

[alemeino-blog]

Echoed Cries

Pairings: Kustard(Sans/UFSans)

____________________________________________________________

It had happened again.

Again had they had gotten into an argument, again it was about the same topic, again did Sans come to see another one if Red's episodes. Only this time, he had broken their promise, the promise of putting an end to the self-harm, the promise of talking before blades.

And Sans wasn't having it.

"I can't believe you Red!," spat Sans, eyelights glaring into the other. "You made a fucking promise! You promised you wouldn't do this again, that you would come to me or someone before you did!"

"Well Ah'm sorry Ah didn't want tah bother ya..," replied Red, eyes glued on to the floor, unable to meet Sans'. "Didn't want tah burden ya with my pathetic issues."

If it were anytime before, where Sans had the better conscious of watching his mouth during times like this, the comment wouldn't have ticked him off. His fists clenched as his glare sharpened. "Will you stop it with that fucking bullshit!," he snapped. "How many more times are you going to repeat the same fucking song! That you don't wanna 'burden me' or be a 'weight upon me' god don't you have a better exuse?!"

Red didn't say anything, he knew Sans was right, knew what he said was a pathetic justification. But was there another truth? He didn't want Sans to get all worried and stressed because of him, because he couldn't handle this shit by himself. 'heh yeah you totally succeeded in that,' his mind spat.

"Quiet, 'cause you know I'm right!," Sans continued. "Everyday I try. I try to make ya happy I try to help you heal I try to be there. But apperanlty, it doesn't work and you still inflict harm against yourself! Apperanlty I'm not enough because maybe if I was you wouldn't be in this damn state!"

Red managed to gather some courage, something to say back, to not make him feel anymore lower than he already was. "I'm sorry okay! But everytime Ah do somethin' like this you've been off gettin' drunk, drinkin' away yer stress! Ah've seen ya S-,Sans and Ah hated to. Yer more than enough, more than what Ah f-,f-,fuckin' deserve. And ah didn't wanna see ya off drunk because of me again, Ah didn't want ya tah get stressed cause Ah'm so d-,damn pathetic and weak tah handle m-,mah own pr-,problems." The pain in his chest worsen with every passing second, Red holding back the tears that threatened to pour down. He couldn't cry in front of Sans, wouldn't make the other feel even more worse when every word he spat was true. He deserved this, deserved to be hated, to have venomous words spat at him.

"Well I'm so sorry," quiped Sans mockingly, rolling his eyes. "I'm sorry my fucking boyfriend can't get over his stupid damn depression and no matter what I fucking do, it isn't enough! I'm sorry I am at least a bit viligant on the results of self harm and I use alcohol to cope because I have to live in constant fear of offending you! Well maybe I shouldn't have gone through all that when you repay me with this! Maybe I should have just spoken what I had thought since it turns out I'm not enough to make you happy, since ya think that I don't fucking care about you!"

Red winced, the vocal arrows hurting more than any insult he inflicted on himself, sharper than the blade he had used to add more cuts to his gallery of scars. He just wanted it to be over already, just wanted to stop causing Sans all this pain, just wanted to sleep and wake up dead. Sans would be happier like that right? He wouldn't have to deal with his bullshit, wouldn't have to be filling up on alcohol due to stress. He chuckled, though it came with choked sobs as he scratched at his wrists behind his back. Damn was he so pathetic.

Sans scoffed at the silence, even more at the choked sobs. "You know what, fuck it. I'm not dealing with your shit anymore you selfish asshole." He turned and slammed the door shut, it being the final hit to cause Red to crumble.

********

Red laid on the floor, curled up as he hugged his own shaking form and choked on his sobs. It happened, it finally did. The moment he had feared since they got together, that thought that gave him nightmares, the prediction he knew and always tried his best to avoid, despite him knowing it was inevitable.

It came to be.

A puddle of red translucent tears formed next to the weeping skeleton, hands moving from his shoulders down to his radius and ulna. He scratched at them, actually glad how his phalanges were sharp claws as they brought that stinging sensation.

Despite him knowing it wouldn't last, it still hurt. It hurt because now he wouldn't be able to even speak to him the same way, never again hold Sans close and have the skeleton lay his head against his chest. Never would their pun wars have that same spark they always did, heck, maybe they would never laugh or share anything again.

Not a maybe, they wouldn't ever.

"Why am ah crying," Red cried to himself. "Why am Ah sobbin' when ah never d-,d-,deserved him... When all ah d-,d-deserved was his h-,h-,hatred..."

What even was the point anymore? Sans wasn't coming back and if he was, it probably was just to move out or kick him out. Maybe it was better he left and didn't burden Sans with having to find someplace to live. Maybe he should just fucking end it so Sans didn't have to be bothered at all.

The thought hadn't occurred to him in a while, his promise to Sans and for the sake of keeping his worries down prevented him from attempting it again. But now, what did it mattered? Not like Sans cared anymore, not like he would come looking for him, stopping him by giving Red that tearful expression of fear. That Sans would rush and hug him tightly, shocking even Red with how physically strong Sans could be as the skeleton tries his best to hold himself together and comfort him.

He chuckled, it coming hoarse and worn. Maybe this was for the best, Red cleansing his pathetic self from this world and Sans leaving him to find someone else to make him happier.

Despite the still streaming tears, a smile came on Red's features. Sans wouldn't care anymore, he would be happy that the person who caused him all of this was dead. Relieved he bet too.

"S-,s-,sorry ah f-,f-,failed ya Sans..," he softly whimpered.

********

Sans gave a grunt as he stumbled out of Grillby's into the night air. He had been in there for what? One, two hours? He didn't care, all he knew was how foggy things looked and how he swayed with every step.

"Stupid Red, making me streesss *hic* and shiiit," slurred Sans as he made his way home. While he could teleport, doing so in his state could be dangerous. With how foggy his head was, who knew where he could land? Usually Grillby would give Red or Papyrus a call to come take him home but Sans begged Grillby not to call anyone. Last thing he needed was Papyrus getting all worried and asking him off what happened.

As for Red-

He thought back on the argument. Hell was Red so damn selfish. All Sans did was try and keep him happy and remind him he was loved and Red repayed him by cutting? He had every right to be upset, every right to yell at Red and scold him. Call him ungrateful, selfish, a stupid fucking liar, breaking his damn promise. He was such an idiot, keeping his mouth shut and stressing himself over what Red felt.

"That oooughta teach *hic* that bastard," Sans slurred as he stumbled again. Stars he was so drunk. Maybe he should've told Grillby calling Papyrus would be fine, seeing as how a simple chat was better than barely keeping his balance. Back then Papyrus always took him home when he stayed at Grillby's late, even if it was rare. But that was before Red came into his life, before he was in a relationship, before he learned how wonderful it was to love someone and have them love you back just as much.

Sans stumbled to a stop, swaying back and forth as the words echoed in his head. Who was he kidding, if Red did care he wouldn't be so damn selfish and go breaking promises. Sans was always there and as always Red later on went on and on about how shitty his life was. Fucking ungrateful bastard, maybe he deserved to be left. Maybe he should go home and tell him he could go kill himself for all he cared!

Sans began laughing, tears forming in his eyes but he still laughed and laughed. Only stopped when he passed out.

********

Sans groaned, rubbing his throbbing head as he slowly got up. 'What happened,' he thought as he looked around, immediately knowing this wasn't his house. Odd. He tried remembering how he got here, yet all his memories from the previous night were blurry. Hearing someone approaching, Sans turned and saw who's house he was at, Grillby's.

After a morning greeting and Sans turning down the offer for breakfast, not really in the mood for consuming anything, he asked the bartender to fill him up on the events of last night. Grillby explained how Sans walked in fuming more than his own flames, how he complained how Red was ungrateful and selfish as he chugged down liquor. At the mention of Red, Sans' eyelights disappeared.

It came back to him, or well before his mind had been consumed by the effects of alcohol. The argument, the words he spat, how Red didn't even speak and when he did, it was only to agree with everything Sans said. He didn't mean them, he was just under stress! Did Red think he hated him? That it was over, that they would never even speak with each other? Knowing Red, he didn't need his verbal answer.

His bones rattled even more when Grillby told him how Red didn't answer both the door and his calls. Sans jumped off the couch, rushing to the door as beads of sweat formed on his head. He hoped Red's phone died and prayed he just slept through Grillby's knocks. He could thank the elemental later but he needed to make sure his boyfriend was alive, that he just cried himself to sleep, heck he wouldn't care if he cut again just that he was alive.

He teleported to their house, not wanting to spend a second more from knowing the truth. "RED?!," he yelled, suprising himself from how loud it came out. But at the lack of a response he pushed it off and ran upstairs, using his magic to slam the door open. "Red!," he cried as he went in, soul falling deeper. No Red. He felt his legs tremble, felt himself loose balance as his strength diminished. He was gone. The monster that had always brought a smile to his face was-

But despite the cold truth, Sans refused to give up. Red might still be alive he just had to find him! Tears rolling down Sans teleported to Waterfall, praying he would get there in time.

Once there he began running to the dump, passing by Echoflowers that replayed old conversations. He might have heard one or two replaying Red's voice, but he wanted the physical monster, the the one he could hug and talk with and just make him happy. The feeling of soggy socks was his signal to call put. "Red!?," his voice was hoarsefrom all the tears he was pushing back. "Red please a-,answer me! I'm s-,sorry just please come b-,back! Please Red..." He began sobbing as each step seemed to add more weight upon him, moving becoming more of a hassle. He lifted his gaze once deeper in, and his soul froze.

No Red.

Sans lost all his strenghts, any hidden ones refusing to surface as he collapsed on to the water. He had come too late, Red wasn't here, he wasn't at home, he was dead...

Sans hugged himself, praying Red would float up from the darkness and pick him up, wiping his tears as he gave him that toothy grin of his. He wished Red would be home, asking where the hell he had gone off to and Sans would lunge at him, hugging him tightly and cry into that mustard smelling jacket of his. But they were fantasies, incapable of becoming real with the things Sans had said.

"I'm s-,sorry Red...," he sobbed, words becoming harder to make with every tear that fell down. "I-,I,-I'm s-,s-,s-,sorry I'm s-,s-, sorry pl-,pl-,please oh pl-,pl-, please j-,j-,just-."

Between the grief and guilt, he felt the anger that he had used on Red against himself. If he hadn't said anything, if he had kept his mouth shut Red would still be alive. If he had been more careful and stayed with him he wouldn't be missing from his life. But no, he had to let all his stress out on Red when he knew how much he was hurting, how broken and damaged he was.

Laying there as the water socked through his clothing, the thought of rolling of the edge passed his mind. Maybe he would meet Red there.

********

After probably hours, Sans decided to start the unwanted treck back home. There was no changing the events anymore, and maybe this was his punishment for being such an asshole. Putting his hoodie on so those that passed by him wouldn't see the streaming tears, he trudged through the glowing grass. It seemed even walking was a burden, seeing as there was no home to go to.

He didn't even have anything to remind him of Red. Didn't have that mustard smelling jacket of his or his soft crimson turtleneck. What did it matter anyways. He knew any remnant would do no justice for replacing the monster who had owned it. Not his touch, not his smile, not his voice.

"Heh I really fucked up this time..."

Sans turned, eyelights darting to the direction of the sound hopeful. But they were met with just an Echoflower, repeating the same words again. Sans sighed, approaching it as Red's voice filled his mind. He gently stroked the blue petals, for a moment imagining they were Red's cheekbones. While they weren't petal soft, he loved the way his fingers would bump into the cracks. It always made him giggle a bit.

"Making Sans stressed like that"

There was another, Sans got up and followed it, seeing how it was after the previous one. Heh, maybe he could hear the last things Red said before he died.

"Heh he has every right to hate me."

'I don't hate you Red I was just mad...,' Sans thought, refusing to say a word and loosing the last trace of Red he had left.

"Tah leave me, probably fer the best."

It wasn't, he never should've left. He should've stayed and comfort Red, make him feel loved, not more like the shit he thought of himself.

"Probably getting drunk because of me... Ah jus' hope he don't-"

While it was unfinished, Sans knew Red was hoping he didn't get hurt. Like he always did, always making sure Sans was okay.

"All ah did was hurt 'im. He has every right the be mad..."

That was a lie. Red made him happy, made him laugh, took the pain from him when he was down. He always made sure Sans was okay, always made sure he was safe. Sans had no right to have had spat out all that venom.

"He's happier now that he doesn't have to deal with mah sh-"

No he wasn't. He didn't care anymore he just wanted him back.

"He'll be even more once he sees me gone."

'No Red I'm not..,' Sans thought as tears began streaming again down his cheekbones. 'I'm not I never said I would Red...'

"Good thing too. After all how selfish I acted, death is-"

Whatever Red would've said was gone. But if it was taht he deserved to be dead, he was wrong. It wasn't his fault he couldn't help it, he had just needed help. Sans should've been more understanding. 'You weren't the selfish one... I was..,,' Sans thought.

"Ah never deserved him anyways"

'I never deserved you,' Sans thought

"He never deserved tah have tah deal with mah shit"

'You never deserved to be this shattered...'

"Heh, Ah was expecting it tah happen sooner or later"

"Ah got my wish heh heh"

Had Red really been thinking that way? No. Sans couldn't get mad even if he wanted to. This was just coming out of Red's self hatred, of his lack of self-esteem.

"Yet it can't stop h-, hurting"

The way his choked tone sounded hurt. How much damage had he done? Could it had been fixed if Red was still alive. Would have things ever been the same?

"Heh, Ah'm selfish. Selfish fer wishing Sans had never left. S-"

More lost words, but the first phrase was enough. 'You're not selfish Red. Why would you say such a thing just because you wanted me back... Just because you-' Sans started but his the pain in his chest grew the more he thought about it.

"-selfish fer wanting him tah have never left."

"Red you're not selfish you never were I'm sorry I'm so fucking sorry I said what I did okay I'm sorry I'm s-,,s-, sorry..." Sans cried out, falling to his knees as he hugged his form, crying, knowing he had just lost the last remnant of Red as his own voice echoed back to him. It didn't matter, if the only things recorded was Red's self hatred. All because of him, because ha hadn't been more patient, because he hadn't care when he saw how his venom made Red crumble.

"Sans?"

Sans paused as he heard the flowers call back his name. But how? With his scream anything Red had said should've been gone.

Sans finally looked up, finally looked ahead and froze, as his eyelights were met with bright red ones.

Red.

He was alive.

He was alive!

Sans wasted no time and lunged towards the other skeleton, knocking them both down as he wrapped his hands tightly around Red. He cried into his jacket, refusing to let go for fear of the monster turning to dust. He tried to speak, but his words were drowned by choked sobs bursting through. 'He', alive! He's alive he's alive!' his mind repeated as he clung to the skeleton.

.

Red was a shocked at Sans' reaction. Why was Sans here? Why was he crying why was he hugging him? Shouldn't Sans hate him, should Sans even be here? But when he tried moving Sans off the skeleton refused, clinging onto him for dear life as he cried into his jacket.He was sure if Sans saw the marrow covered pocket knife he would change his mind on hugging him. He hated seeing Sans in such a state, hated seeing so many tears on his face. So he gently hugged back, unsure whether Sans wanted him to do so or not.

.

At the responsive hug, Sans' soul left as he nuzzled deeper into Red, loving the feel of his alternative's arms wrapped around him. And while he desired to say something, anything, he could only cry into the soul he nearly lost. But as his cries and laughter echoed through the fields, he knew one thing for sure.

.

.

He was never ever letting go of Red again.

____________________________________________________________

Hewwo!!! I am not dead! Yet unfortunately ha ha. So yeah have some Kustard shitty ass angst. Also this isn't an unhealthy relationship or anything, just Sans being stressed and pissed he failed to help Red get better(which in my opinion isn't 100% true). This has been a thought in my head but uh, thank @smashpeach for their amazing comic that inspired me to do it. Anyways if ya have anymore asks just ask cuz Tumblr is currently being a glitchy fuck. Mkay bye!!

[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

A Warm Feeling, Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Grillby Has Bad Days, Too

Read this on Archive of Our Own and Wattpad!

Summary: What's this? A role reversal? Grillby has been busy and struggling to run his bar single-handedly, and it pushes him past his limit. Luckily, Sans is there for him. Warnings for this chapter: Passing out, neglecting one's health Word Count: 3188

Sans laid back on his mattress with a groan. Two weeks. It had been two whole weeks since the reset, and Frisk was still in the Ruins. He was starting to wonder if they were doing it on purpose, just to mess with him. Every day, Sans went out to his post and watched, waiting for that giant door at the end of the road to open. It occurred to him that he was actually doing his job for once. His sentry reports had never been more detailed, and Papyrus was pretty proud of him for it. He didn’t even give Sans a hard time about sleeping in anymore.

When Sans opened his eyes again, the clock on his phone said it was just a little bit past five. Usually Sans would go back to sleep, waiting until about seven before going to Grillby’s and spending the rest of the evening there. The dinner rush picked up around five, and Sans didn’t usually like crowds, but then again he would take social anxiety over all-my-loved-ones-are-going-to-die-again anxiety any day. Sitting alone with his thoughts was only going to make him spiral again. So, with that, he stuffed the jacket under his mattress and got up, putting on his slippers and heading out into the snow. Somehow, looking at the restaurant down the street, he barely felt the cold at all.

Grillby rushed to keep up with orders as the dinner rush reached its peak. It had been a very, very busy day. He really couldn’t complain- business was business- but it had just been unusually hard on the bartender that day. Sans would probably say I’m ‘burned out’, Grillby thought to himself, smiling ever so slightly at the thought. If there was one thing he would be able to look forward to that evening, it would be seeing his favorite customer. Seeing Sans was always the high point of Grillby’s day. The skeleton was kind and funny, and he always seemed to know exactly how to put Grillby at ease. The bartender shook himself from his thoughts at the sound of the door opening again, bracing himself for another wave of orders and demands. Surprise and relief washed over him when he saw a familiar blue jacket in the doorway, looking around for a seat. The bar itself was unfortunately full, but Sans managed to find a table in the corner that was empty, sitting down and glancing over the drink menu as if he didn’t already have it memorized.

Grillby wanted nothing more than to walk over and say hello. Maybe he would sit with Sans, ignoring the rest of his customers as he vented about the awful day he’d had. However, that was nothing more than wishful thinking. One of the customers at the bar got his attention, asking for another order of fries and a drink. Of course, Grillby was quick to deliver, running to the kitchen to start the food before coming back out to mix drinks.

Now Grillby was aware that there were establishments in the capital that didn’t care how much their patrons drank so long as they could pay for it, but Grillby was more responsible than that. When a particularly intoxicated seahorse monster at the bar demanded another highly alcoholic cocktail, Grillby offered him a virgin drink instead, arching an eyebrow as he cut him off for the evening. “I’d offer you a glass of water, but I don’t go near the stuff. I think you’ve had enough for the evening.”

The monster scoffed, irritated. “What kind of B-S is that? I know how much I can handle, I’m nowhere near wasted. Just gimme another drink and mind your own damn business.”

Grillby shook his head. “I said, you’ve had enough,” he said firmly. “If you would like to order a non-alcoholic drink instead I would be happy to prepare it for you.”

The monster stood with his hands on the bar, yelling, “Do you have any idea who I am?!”

And here they went again. Grillby got this sort of thing all the time when they were busy. “Sir, please, there’s no reason to shout…” God, he had a headache. Couldn’t his customers give him one easy night? There were two other monsters trying to get his attention to order drinks, apparently either unaware or uncaring that Grillby was in the middle of something. “I’m afraid I have other customers to attend to-”

The seahorse monster cut him off. “I am a loyal customer and I have never caused you any trouble before, and this is how you treat me?? Not cool, dude. You’re gonna lose my business if you keep up with this attitude. What happened to the customer is always right? You know I’ve never said anything before, but your service is so damn slow, and your food sucks. I can barely even drink these shitty excuses for drinks, I’m only here because I want to support local businesses, but with your attitude-”

Ding! You’re blue now!

The seahorse monster suddenly found himself being lifted off with his stool with a yelp, unceremoniously dropped to the floor. Sans took his place at the bar, a casual grin on his face. “Hey Grillbz, looks like it’s busy. This guy causing you trouble?”

Grillby could have cried in relief. “No,” he remarked casually, “He was just leaving.” He made eye contact with the monster, irritated. “And I believe we had just reached an agreement that he will not be coming back.” With that, he gave Sans a thankful look before rushing to take care of the customers that had been waiting on him.

The bartender was pretty sure he wouldn’t have made it through the evening with his sanity intact if Sans weren’t there. Every time an irate customer started to get an attitude with Grillby, Sans would interrupt, either drawing Grillby away from the situation or diffusing the situation with a joke and a smile. The rush had started dying down by six-thirty, and the bartender finally had a moment to just… breathe.

Sans looked up from his phone when a burger and a bottle of ketchup were set in front of him, the food fresh off the grill and the bottle filled to the top. Grillby adjusted his glasses, leaning against the bar with a sigh. “Sorry it took so long to get out to you,” he mumbled. “Busy night.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Sans responded with a chuckle. “There was a line out the door when I got here.”

“Really?” Grillby looked out the window, relieved to see that was no longer the case. “I hadn’t even noticed. I really need to hire some waiting staff. I’ve put out a help wanted ad a few times, but no one qualified has ever responded…” He took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead, trying to will away the headache he’d had ever since the dinner rush.

Sans tilted his head, a little worried. “Hey, well, now you can relax for the evening, right?”

Grillby groaned. “As much as I would like that, I still have customers, Sans.”

Sans looked around, then shrugged. “They’re all regulars, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you closed an hour or two early. I mean, if I’m being honest… You… don’t look so good. It’s been kinda a rough week. You should take care of yourself before you get too burned out, heh.”

Grillby found himself chuckling despite himself. “I knew you would make that joke,” he mumbled. He looked around the bar for a moment. It was true, that he only had regulars in this late, and they were all fairly good and understanding patrons. Even if they weren’t all the most understanding monsters, his headache just… would not go away. “For the record, if I concede and close up early, I would like it to be known that I’m doing this for your benefit. You worry too much.”

“Heh, sure, Grillbz. I’ll help you round everyone up and get them out of here,” Sans offered, getting up out of his chair. He couldn’t help glancing at Grillby every now and then, an uneasiness settling in his chest as he watched the bartender periodically take off his glasses and rub his eyes.

Sans decided not to mention that for the first time, his burger had been undercooked.

Grillby sat down at one of his booths and sighed, putting his head down on the table. He’d finished cleaning up, and Sans had been kind enough to put up the barstools and chairs for him. He felt more than heard his friend sit next to him, the hand that came up to rub his back a welcome presence of comfort. Sans fidgeted with his hoodie zipper with his free hand, even more worried than before. He’d never seen Grillby like this, but… it couldn’t have been the first time, could it? Since the evening Grillby had carried Sans home, the two had been a little bit closer. It was possible that the bartender had just started feeling comfortable being more vulnerable with him, but Sans still felt like he should have noticed this sort of thing before. Why didn’t it occur to him that Grillby had his own bad days? Grillbz was always looking out for him, taking care of him, and giving him a safe space. When had Sans last returned the favor? Some friend he was…

“I know what you’re thinking, Sans,” Grillby said quietly. “Yes, I have bad days, but days as severe as this are rare. I’ve never asked for help or mentioned it before. There’s no way you could have done anything about it.”

Sans huffed, relaxing a little bit and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “How come you can read me like a book like that? You’re not even looking at me.”

“You were thinking loudly,” Grillby responded sarcastically. “Honestly, you spend nearly every evening at my bar. You’d think that I’d know you pretty well.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Sans conceded. The two fell into a comfortable silence, Sans continuing to rub Grillby’s back while the bartender took a moment to let himself wind down. He pushed down a bit between Grillby’s shoulder blades, eliciting a soft groan from the monster.

“Ow…” Grillby hadn’t realized just how sore he was until Sans did that. He had all kinds of knots in his shoulders. His back and his feet ached. He was going to feel awful when he got up the next morning.

As the dull ache spread through him, Sans pressed down again, digging in his palm a bit and starting to work out one of the worst knots. “Damn, Grillbz,” he mumbled under his breath. “When was the last time you stretched. Here, turn around.” He guided Grillby into sitting so that his back was facing Sans. The skeleton reached up, starting at the bartender’s neck as he began massaging out the tension there and loosening up the sore muscles. He was surprisingly good at it, drawing another out a soft sigh from the fire monster.

“Sans,” Grillby breathed out, “You don’t have to.”

Sans chuckled a bit. “I want to. Would it make you feel better if I charged you for it? Just take it off my tab.”

Grillby rolled his eyes, caving. “Fine… thank you.”

The worried unease slowly left Sans at that, replaced by a fond warmth. “Hey, don’t mention it. Let me take care of you for once.”

Later that evening, as Sans and Grillby parted ways, Sans found himself having some… interesting thoughts about the bartender as he watched him walk away. He would be lying if he said that he hadn’t been a bit flustered by some of the soft sighs and groans that had slipped past Grillby’s lips as Sans gave him the massage. He didn’t expect Grillby to be so vocal.

The thought made the skeleton’s throat go dry and he shook himself, turning and walking back towards home. He hadn’t missed the way Grillby was blushing when he sat back up, quietly thanking Sans and mumbling that he felt much better. Come to think of it, Sans had seen Grillby’s blush a lot more often lately. Some sort of line had been well and truly stepped over when Grillby took Sans home, spending the night with him to make sure he wasn’t alone with his nightmares. Not much had really changed between the two of them, but every so often they shared a tender, vulnerable moment that reached a little bit deeper than other interactions. It was undeniable that they’d gotten closer, but…

Closer how?

Sans reached the front door, but decided to take a short cut to his room. He didn’t really feel like facing Papyrus’s questions as to why he was home earlier than usual right then. He’d managed to stop worrying his brother so much recently. He’d actually been getting a decent amount of rest the past few days. His nightmares had been a lot milder, still waking him up but not hanging around long enough to keep him from dozing back off pretty quickly.

He refused to acknowledge that it had anything to do with the black jacket that wasn’t his he’d been sleeping in every night. Surely it had nothing to do with the weight of the fabric and the comforting, familiar smell of smoke.

Sans wasn’t sure what woke him up early. Maybe Papyrus singing in the shower? Usually he slept through that noise but… eh, whatever. The skeleton sat up and stretched, Grillby’s jacket shifting around his shoulders. He pulled it off and gently inspected it for a moment, remembering the night before. Maybe… Maybe since he was up early anyway, he could go ahead and check on him. The bar opened pretty early for breakfast, but walking past with Papyrus each morning, it never looked particularly busy. The skeleton shrugged off the jacket and stuffed it under his mattress, semi-reluctantly exchanging it for his regular blue one. He made sure to leave a note for Papyrus on his door letting him know that he left early before heading out to check in with his friend.

The first thing Sans noticed was that there weren’t any lights on inside the bar. Usually he could see the glow of the windows and the light they casted out on the snow from a distance, but the restaurant was totally dark. Sans pulled out his phone and checked the time again. Seven thirty-eight. Grillby’s should’ve definitely been open.

The second thing he noticed was the sign in the window. It was one of those plastic signs that said ‘OPEN’ on one side and ‘CLOSED’ on the other, hanging from a suction-cup hook. It was flipped to ‘OPEN’. Sans distinctly remembered Grillby flipping it to ‘CLOSED’ the night before, but the place certainly didn’t look open. Had Grillby come in, then changed his mind and taken the morning off? And just forgotten to change the sign back?

Sans was starting to get a bad feeling. After a moment, he slowly walked up to the door and turned the doorknob.

Unlocked.

Grillby never forgot to lock the door.

That was all the evidence Sans needed to conclude something was definitely wrong. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Grillbz? Hey, you in?” Was the power out or something…? He looked around, eyes drawn to the open kitchen door. There was a flickering light coming from inside the kitchen that hadn’t been visible through the front window. A flickering light…

Dread seeped into Sans’s soul as he found himself jogging towards the kitchen. “Grillby?!” He called out worriedly. “Hey, what’s going…” Sans stopped short, eyes wide as he located his best friend.

Grillby was laying on the floor in the middle of the kitchen, a batch of burger buns scattered across the floor around a pan sitting on the ground nearby. It didn’t take long for Sans to figure out what had happened, rushing over to his friend and kneeling next to him. “Grillby! Hey, come on, wake up. Shit, Grillbz, wake up!” What did he do?! He couldn’t exactly pour water on his face! He shook the bartender slightly, on the edge of panic. He fought back tears of relief when Grillby’s eyes fluttered open.

Grillby shifted and winced, a hand coming up to his head. “Ngh… Sans…?”

“Y-yeah,” Sans managed to stammer. “Hey, don’t move around too much. What hurts?”

Grillby took longer to answer than Sans would like. “Head, back, knees,” the bartender finally mumbled, closing his eyes again. “What… What happened?”

“You fucking passed out is what happened,” Sans choked out through a tense, humorless laugh. “I thought you had Fallen Down or something. You scared the shit out of me.”

Grillby opened his eyes again, looking up at Sans. He reached out with a shaky hand to cup the skeleton’s cheek, steam sizzling into the air as he wiped away a single stray tear. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled quietly.

“No,” Sans said quickly. “Don’t you fucking dare apologize. Don’t you dare apologize for getting hurt or- or sick or whatever caused this. It isn’t your fault.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Grillby was going to be alright, he knew that much. He’d make sure of it. “Can you sit up slowly for me?”

With Sans’s help, Grillby gradually got up to a sitting position, then after a few moments of sitting, slowly eased his way into standing. He swayed on his feet when he was upright, so Sans carefully helped him out to a booth in the dining room, making him lay down again as he went to lock the door and flip the sign back over. No way was Grillby working in that condition. “Grillbz, when was the last time you ate?”

“Um…” Grillby frowned, thinking about it. After a long moment of silence, Sans shook his head.

“Okay, the fact that you have to think about it that long is bad enough,” Sans said tensely. “It… It wasn’t that day when we ate lunch together, was it? Grillbz, that was five days ago. I know it’s been busy but holy shit, G!” He took another deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to be lecturing about self-care (especially since Sans was the last person to be talking to about it). “Alright, we need to get you something to eat. Papyrus should be out at his post by now, so I’m gonna bring you over to my house to rest. You’re taking a day off.”

If anything, Sans was made more concerned by the fact that Grillby didn’t protest. He helped his friend back up, debating on whether or not to take a shortcut before deciding that might be too much for the bartender to handle.

Grillby did his best to maintain his balance, groaning as his head throbbed from the motion. “I… f-feel like shit…”

Sans relaxed a bit, chuckling tensely. At least Grillby was aware enough to sound like himself again. “Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t worry, Grillbz, I’ll take care of ya.”

Thanks for reading this chapter! If you want, you can also read this on Archive of Our Own and Wattpad. If you like my writing, consider reblogging so that more people can see it, and leave a comment to tell me what your favorite part was! I'm aiming to have the next chapter out next week, so keep an eye out for it. Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list for A Warm Feeling!

[ask-serious-sans]

Bad Time Duo (Fanfiction) Part 10

Alphys' efforts to shoo Mettaton off were entirely in vain. The robot continued to try to convince the four to be part of his show, making it impossible for them to discuss anything with Alphys. "You simply have to appear on my show! The audience will love it! I have an exciting quiz show planned, it will be so much fun!" Mettaton said, beaming at them. "That does sound fun, but we're kind of in the middle of something important-" Papyrus attempted to explain. "Nonsense, I'm positive it can wait until after my show!" Mettaton replied. "After all, a quiz show is nothing without a contestant! And I'm really running out of time to find one." "Oh... Well, maybe-" Asriel spoke up, feeling bad for the robot. "Excellent! So you will help me?" Mettaton asked, sounding excited. "I, the Great Papyrus, will help as well!" Papyrus added, leaving Asriel no opportunity to back out. "This is wonderful! Now the quiz show can be a competition! I can already see the views skyrocketing!" Mettaton announced. Chara was slightly nervous, uncertain whether it was a good idea to let Asriel be part of the quiz show. "D-don't worry, human," Alphys spoke up, noticing their worries. "Mettaton is harmless. They... They'll be fine!" "Alright..." Chara said uncertainly. "A-anyway! We should start looking for, um... What was it you guys needed again?" Alphys added, looking embarrassed. Mettaton finished setting up the cameras as Sans explained what was going on in more detail to Alphys. Alphys gathered some books she thought might be useful, and she, Sans, and Chara started looking through them. Once the cameras were ready, Mettaton quickly explained to Papyrus and Asriel how the game show was going to work, and then rushed to his spot to begin the show. "Hello, beauties and gentlebeauties! Today, I have a very special treat for you all! This game show will be a competition between two amazing contestants!" Mettaton announced into a microphone. Papyrus and Asriel were both quite surprised when a camera was suddenly pushed almost into their faces, but quickly recovered. "Okay! Now, here's how this will work! I'll ask a question, and the first person to answer correctly gets a point! Whoever has the most points at the end will be the winner!" Mettaton explained cheerfully. "Without further ado, let's begin! First question: How many fireflies are in this jar?" Mettaton held up a jar full of fireflies for the two contestants to see. Papyrus and Asriel both walked over and started painstakingly counting each firefly. The fact that the fireflies were constantly flying around within the jar made this much more difficult, but neither backed down from the challenge. Mettaton was beginning to think that question had been a bad idea when five minutes later, the two were still attempting to count the fireflies. Both had lost count several times already, but neither was giving up. "Contestants, please, just make your guesses already, we need to continue the show-" Mettaton was cut off by the glares of two older siblings who did not appreciate Mettaton trying to make their brothers hurry up. "Or don't, it's fine," Mettaton said hastily. Papyrus and Asriel continued counting fireflies as though they hadn't heard anything. Finally, Papyrus and Asriel looked up from the jar which had held their attention for far longer than Mettaton had expected, and announced the correct answer at the exact same time. Mettaton seemed too surprised they'd actually gotten the right answer to care that this meant they both got a point. "Very good," Mettaton said after he recovered. "Next question! Two trains, train A and train B, simultaneously depart station A and station B. Station A and station B are 252.5 miles apart from each other. Train A is moving at 124.7 miles per hour towards station B, and train B is moving at 253.5 miles per hour towards station A. If both trains departed at 10:00 AM and it is now 10:08, how much longer until both trains pass each other?" "Can I have a piece of paper please?" Asriel asked. Alphys handed him a piece of paper. "Oh, me too!" Papyrus added. The two proceeded to start solving the question. Mettaton sighed, but didn't say anything as he waited for the two to solve the question. "32.058 minutes!" Asriel and Papyrus said at the same time. "Indeed, good job," Mettaton replied. It was clear the robot was concerned by the fact the two were willing to spend several minutes solving each question, which he figured was leaving the viewers bored. "Here's an easy question! How many letters are in my name?" "Eight," Asriel and Papyrus replied after a few seconds of thought. "Contestants, you're supposed to be competing here, the goal is to answer before your opponent," Mettaton pointed out. "But it's more fun if we both win," Papyrus pointed out. Mettaton facepalmed and glanced at the viewer count, expecting it to drop drastically. To his surprise, it actually increased. "Wow... Viewers love teamwork apparently! Good job you two, keep it up!" Asriel and Papyrus glanced at each other and shrugged. "The next question is-"

After the show ended, with Mettaton enthusiastically thanking the viewers for watching, he rushed over to where Alphys, Sans, and Chara were searching through books for useful information. "Alphys! You won't believe it! I had almost 100 viewers! That's the most viewers I've ever had for one show before!" "Th-that's wonderful, Mettaton," Alphys replied, smiling. "I know!" Mettaton turned back to Asriel and Papyrus with a grin. "You two simply must appear on my show again!" "Well..." Asriel trailed off, not even sure if he would be in this timeline when Mettaton had his next show. "I had a lovely idea for a cooking show," Mettaton continued. "I can make spaghetti!" Papyrus offered eagerly. "And I can make cookies!" Asriel added, all thoughts of leaving the timeline gone at the idea of making cookies. Mettaton beamed. "Perfect! I'll have 100 viewers in no time!" Then the robot rushed from the room, shouting, "I have to prepare a set!" Asriel and Papyrus walked over to the others. "Did you find anything?" Papyrus asked. "Not yet," Sans replied. "Chara," Asriel spoke up hopefully, "Can we stay long enough so I can be on the cooking show?" Chara knew the longer they stayed, the harder it would be to leave. Already, they were feeling somewhat uncertain; they had made many friends here that they would miss when they left. The longer they stayed, they would only meet more people to miss later. But seeing how excited Asriel looked, Chara couldn't bring themselves to say no. Besides, they hadn't found anything useful yet, so it wasn't like they had a plan to leave soon or anything. "Sure, Rei. I mean, look at all these books, we'll probably be here awhile anyway." Asriel grinned. "Great!" Then, he and Papyrus each picked a book from the stack of books Alphys had gathered and started searching through them. For hours they read through books, looking for information on timelines and how to travel between them, but by lunchtime they had found nothing. Alphys headed to the kitchen to make some ramen, followed by Papyrus and Asriel who insisted they make a healthier meal as thanks for her letting them search through the books. Once the sound of Papyrus and Asriel cooking spaghetti while Alphys stammered nervously could be heard, Sans looked up from the book he had been reading. "Hey." "Hmm?" Chara didn't look up from their book, the quiet reply the only indication they had even heard him. "Earlier, when Asriel mentioned wanting to stay longer... Do you not want to?" Chara was silent for several minutes. "It's not that... Not exactly. The longer we stay, the harder it will be to leave." "Well... You could stay." "What, never go back to our timeline? Just stay in this one?" "Yeah, I mean, if you want to... The king and Toriel would be happy to take care of you and Asriel." Chara was silent again, clearly deep in thought. Finally, they spoke, "Don't you think that would be kind of selfish of me?" "I think it would be selfish of all of us... The king and Toriel would have children to care for again... Papyrus would have another friend to cook with... Mettaton would have more viewers for his show 'cause Asriel and Papyrus are super cool, and Alphys seems to like having your help researching stuff, so she'll probably try to convince you to help her around the lab if you do stay." "What about you?" "I'm the most selfish of us all... As long as you're here, I don't have to worry about another human showing up and starting a genocide run." Sans sighed, "I'm sorry-" "No. I understand. If our roles had been reversed... I would have felt the same way." Chara was silent for awhile again, before continuing, "Well, we haven't found anything yet, so I doubt we'll be leaving anytime soon, anyway. We'll see how it goes."

They didn't find anything helpful in the books that afternoon, either, so after agreeing to return the next day, the four left the lab to return to Toriel's house. The motherly goat seemed more than a little relieved to see Chara and Asriel were still around, she had been slightly worried they would find a way to return to their timeline and leave without saying goodbye. She smiled as she listened to Asriel tell her about Mettaton's quiz show, with Papyrus adding in details here and there. When she heard they had not yet found a way for Chara and Asriel to return to their timeline, her smile grew, though she apologized almost immediately. "It's okay," Asriel replied cheerfully, "We won't be leaving until after Mettaton's cooking show anyway." Sans and Papyrus left after staying for dinner at Toriel's request. Shortly afterwards, Asriel fell asleep with the help of one of Chara's stories, but Chara remained awake long afterwards, deep in thought.

[diamondsareapearlsbestfriend]

Bonely This Gyftmas

finally posting my contribution to the @sorieldiscord​ (not so) Secret Santa for a Good Clown Pal, @purpleangrywitches !! belated Merry Gyftmas my dude, I hope you like it~~   shoutout to the wonderful @drawingwithgreen13​  for helping me out with some parts of this and of course @mintkupocream​ for organising this exchange for us!! ^w^;; FellSoriel is something I’ve wanted to try for a while now so hopefully this turned out okay! (basically “more cursing and everyone is tsundere” lmao - that’s how you Underfell, right?? anyway yeah feel free to lmk your thoughts etc!! <3)

on AO3

Another Gyftmas in Snowdin – not that it really meant anything, any more than any other “season” did in the Underground. Snow was a permanent fixture, and so was the threadbare pine tree in the centre of town, the only difference being the half-assed decorations and dimly flickering lights draped about its branches, and the kids still young or dumb enough to gather around it and casting hopeful glances at the parcels underneath. If Sans had it in him to care, he might even have felt bad for the little shits, watching the light die in their eyes year after year at the meagre offering, until that one bear who hung around the tree “arranging” the presents all day growled at them til and they beat it.

Other than that, it was same shit, different day – Papyrus didn’t believe in holidays, and as he never tired of harshly but not incorrectly pointing out, Sans did so little that his entire existence was basically one big break. He was more than happy to live up, or down, to his boss’ expectations, taking every opportunity to slip away from his post and deep into the forest where, at least, he had the promise of more interesting company.

“Yo, anyone alive in there?” he asked the door, rapping his phalanges against the ancient wood and sliding into the routine as easily as he did into the snow. “Why did Sally fall off the swing?”

“Oh, now you are here?” The response was curt, even for her. “How profoundly lucky am I to be graced with your presence.”

Sans scoffed, lifting a brow bone as he leaned back against the door; Door Lady was crankier than usual tonight. It was gonna be a fun one. “Geez, lady, someone rattle your chain or what? ‘Scuse me if I missed the memo on the fuckin’...school timetable or whatever this is.”

“Hardly. But you have been stopping by approximately the same time for the last three nights – it is called setting a precedent. And surely even you should know it is impolite to keep a lady waiting.”

“Good job it’s just you, then, ain’t it?” Sans snickered as he could practically feel her unamused glare through the thick, battle-dented wood that separated them. “Now do you wanna hear about Sally or what?” (He was actually sorta proud of this one; he’d been saving it for a worthy audience, and those weren’t easy to come by.)

“I suppose,” the lady answered, the slightest hint of a pout in her voice. “Why did she fall off the swing?”

“‘Cause she had no arms.”

“Oh.” A beat went by. “Well, that was a little lacking, even for –“

“Knock knock.”

She huffed an irritable sigh. “Who is there?”

“Dunno, but it ain’t Sally.”

That finally got the reaction he wanted as a snort rumbled through the door, followed by her throaty cackle - long, low and filthy, it sent a shiver of satisfaction through Sans as he chuckled with her. Making her laugh always felt like a victory, somehow. “Oh, how unfortunate,” she drawled, sugary sweet and dripping with contempt for the imaginary kid. “She was one of the lucky ones.”

“Don’t sweat it, she’s totally armless.”

“I suppose that really put her out on a limb.”

“I’d say you gotta hand it to her, but…”

Their snorts and guffaws rang out through the barren forest, sounds it probably didn’t hear often and that definitely would have aroused suspicion, but not many monsters ever wandered this deep into the forest anyway. “All she wants for Gyftmas,” Sans continued, on a roll, “is a break.”

The lady still laughed, but a little less heartily this time. “Oh, is it that time of the year already? I would not know - such things tend to pass one by when every day is much the same as the last one. How nice for those of you with something to celebrate.”

“Yeah, right.” She had a point, Sans had to admit, with a dry, sarcastic snicker. “Don’t mean shit to me either, but I guess it’s somethin’ for the kiddos. ‘Least, til they get old enough to figure out there ain’t no miracle happening any time soon to get us out of this hellhole.”

Weird thing was, he couldn’t even remember being a kid like that himself, a time when he didn’t understand how the world worked - with his HP, he’d had to wise up pretty fast or he’d be long dusted. But he did remember walking hand in hand with Papyrus through the snow - way back  when he was still shorter than Sans and either of them might ever have considered such a display acceptable - and how his brother used  to getso excited he’d almost tripped over his boots until Sans yanked him upright, and let himself be dragged towards the presents at top speed before they all got snatched away. But before they started, Papyrus would always pause to look up at their pathetic excuse for a tree, his sockets sparkling with hope and wonder as if it was the most amazing thing he’d seen since - well, last Gyftmas, as astounding as the stars they’d never get to see.

Might’ve been the last time Gyftmas meant something.

“Yes, well.” Door Lady gave a dismissive snort, snapping him back to reality. “What use have I for such child’s play? The last few foolish enough to wander through my door...well, suffice to say they are long gone.”

That, somehow, didn’t surprise Sans, but noticing her slightly sharper tone, he decided against pointing it out. “Hey, look on the bright side. Maybe this year one of the suckers that throws themselves down here’ll get lucky enough not to make it, and you got you a real nice traditional Gyftmas dinner.”

She hummed, a long, low noise somewhere between intrigue and what almost sounded like desire. “Mmm, I do hope not. Fresh prey always tastes better when it puts up a little struggle, does it not?”

Not for the first time, Sans wasn’t totally sure whether she was kidding – and he kinda liked it. He was pretty good, usually, at reading people, picking up on the little pauses and stutters that most assumed he was too dumb and/or lazy to notice. It was a good way to survive, being able to see through the bullshit, but it also took some of the fun out of seeing how far he could push it when he knew to the second how close Papyrus was to throwing a steaming plate of lasagna in his face.

Door Lady was...different. Probably helped that he had no idea who or even what kind of monster she was, of course, but even though they’d fallen into a thing of telling jokes and talking shit to pass the time, her mood seemed to swing back and forth a hell of a lot more than the door ever did. Some days he just seemed to irritate her, and she’d snap that if he wasn’t going to entertain her, he might as well go off and not do his job elsewhere. Which, whatever - wasn’t like that was anything Sans didn’t hear on a daily basis anyway, but in a weird way her unpredictability was part of the thrill. Made it all the more satisfying when he did get to hear her laugh. And damn, her laugh...

True to form, she dismissed him not long after that, saying she had business to attend to and she was sure he must be terribly busy with Gyftmas preparations for his beloved brother. They shared a sarcastic chuckle at that, but hers had sounded a shade darker than usual - bitter, almost.

Maybe he’d said something to annoy her (unintentionally, mostly) or she was getting bored with him, or - well, whatever, wasn’t Sans’ problem. She was just a voice behind a door, a convenient distraction. None of it meant anything.

He was sharp enough to know by now that you didn’t survive long by imagining it did.

Days went by, and the pile of presents under Snowdin’s tree grew steadily bigger. How many of them would actually make it to Gyftmas unopened was another story, especially if there was anything that the thriftier locals might be able to sell on to Muffet or one of her goons, but whether it was the prospect of more gold or just the place looking a little less of a dump, people did seem happier, or at least less likely to metaphorically or literally snap your skull off for looking at them funny.

Sans had his own reasons for keeping a socket on the gyfts, his grin tugging a little wider when he spotted the telltale gleam of curiosity in his bro-slash-boss’ sockets as they passed the tree every day – not, of course, that the Great and Terrible Papyrus would ever admit to the slightest interest in such things. Gyftmas was for baby bones, Sans, he’d better not be thinking of wasting their hard-earned gold on such frivolous nonsense.

He said the same every year, and every year Sans ignored him, because he still couldn’t think of many better ways to spend his gold than adding to his brother’s now-substantial collection of action figures - if only to catch the briefest glimpse of surprise and excitement flicker across his features, just like when they were baby bones, before it hastily rearranged into his usual scowl. He’d sigh and roll his sockets and mutter something about how if Sans really wanted to help he’d buy him something actually useful, like that new stove they so desperately needed, while mysteriously never getting around to selling the figures that had stood artfully arranged on his desk for years. Sans would shrug and pretend to believe him, while slurping extra appreciatively and obnoxiously from the extra-large bottle of mustard that appeared under the tree for him every year from some mysterious benefactor.

It wasn’t much, but it was their thing – tradition, even, if you wanted to call it that –  and maybe about as close as he ever got to feeling...safe. Comfortable – not, obviously, that Sans or Papyrus or anyone in the Underground with half a brain cell would ever acknowledge it. You sure as shit didn’t survive long down here by laying your soft spots bare for anyone to rip into.

Sans might be a good-for-nothing lazy lump of bones and countless other more colourful terms, by his own admission, but he wasn’t stupid – and yet for some reason, he’d kinda thought that maybe it’d be cool to be able to tell someone about the time he’d had to shove that deluxe Mettaton action figure into his jacket before Papyrus got in (that ultra realistic chainsaw stung like a bitch) or the priceless look of pure terror on that one kid’s face when his mom told him Krampus would be coming for him if he didn’t quit tripping over his tail. Really, he probably should’ve known Door Lady wouldn’t wanna hear about that – or much of anything he had to say, lately. There’d definitely been laughter and a lot more snapping and sighing and the the glare of barely concealed irritation he could practically feel through the door.

If he didn’t know better, he’d suspect she had some kind of issue around the whole Gyftmas thing – bad memories, pretty much everyone was carrying something, or maybe she just hated the idea of other people having fun. But it was an even bigger waste of time than usual, and not the fun kind, to wonder about it – everyone knew you didn’t talk about these things, didn’t trust people outside your closest family (if you were lucky or unlucky, depending on your perspective, enough to have any) with anything the slightest bit personal, and you didn’t get involved with other people’s baggage unless you’d come prepared for a fight. Sans was too tired to start shit; he’d been too tired for most things for a long time, even if she kept wandering into his skull at the most inconvenient times, and he’d catch himself wondering what her deal was. What had happened to the lady with the dirtiest dead baby jokes and even dirtier laugh, the one who made sentry duty with the boss breathing down his clavicle sorta bearable, because – if he was dumb enough to consider being honest with himself or anyone else – he might have been starting to miss her.

The smart thing would’ve been to cut his losses and move on, since he’d obviously outlived his entertainment value and there were plenty other places in the Underground he could nap or jack up the price of hot dogs to a more appreciative (or nonexistent) audience.

Thing was, Sans wasn’t stupid, but he also was never big on doing whatever he was supposed to.

It was, by Toriel’s estimation, the night before Gyftmas. A fact she would not have known, nor would she have cared to know, had it not been for her...friend? It still seemed absurd to think of him as such, a disembodied voice with no face nor name, and yet he was probably the closest equivalent she had had for decades, perhaps centuries, or however long it had been since the term meant anything.

Perhaps visitor was more appropriate;  a moderately amusing, yet inevitably temporary distraction from the tedium of her day-to-day life. Toriel was not alone in the Ruins – she had seen the monsters scurry away into the shadows each day when she swept through the halls, her sharp eyes scanning every corner and crevice for anyone foolish enough to have fallen into her domain, but that was exactly how she wanted it, was it not? The last thing in the world she needed were these snivelling, pitiful little Froggits and Whimsuns getting attached to her in any way, getting under her feet and clutching at her paw. Heaven knew, her nurturing days were long behind her.

Fear was power – as the former queen of the Underground surely knew better than anyone – and having vacated her throne, it was the only sort of power she could hope to yield these days. Yet, she could not quite put her paw on when it had all started to feel...empty. As empty as the Ruins, for all their inhabitants, might well have been when she was around, and empty as the many rooms she no longer had any use for, sitting untouched gathering dust for years. Though she did not care to admit it, her visitor had reminded her of that; of just how good it felt to laugh again, even playfully trading insults. His lack of fear, casual disregard for the authority she would never disclose to him – she could not help but welcome the change, and occasionally found herself anticipating her daily surveillance more than she ever imagined she would, her ears pricking up almost without her permission at those first few raps on the old forest door.

He had been reminding her of many things, as of late, and there were many, many things Toriel did not care to remember, this and any other time of year. At first, she had tried to find it endearing, in a simple-minded way, listening to him prattle on about Snowdin’s Gyftmas preparations with a unmistakable note of fondness that belied his professions of indifference. Yet it was much more difficult to conceal her disgust, much less pretend to be as amused as her visitor was when he turned to stories of the “Krampus” Snowdin residents, in particular, seemed to take such delight in threatening their children with. Of course, she thought bitterly, paying the least amount of attention possible as her visitor recounted the story of one little brat who had seen his presents dissolve into fire magic before his ungrateful eyes, the fool would persist in playing ridiculous games instead of attempting to restore the smallest modicum of hope to his people that no doubt still suffered and squabbled and tore each other apart every day, as they had for centuries.

Pathetic, utterly pathetic – well, let them suffer. Toriel had abdicated her part in the whole sorry charade long ago, and she certainly had not returned to the Ruins to discuss her former husband. She could never be so careless as to let the slightest hint of her true identity slip through the door, of course; any sentry worth his salt would immediately run off with such sensitive information, throwing it out for as much gold as they could get to the many Royal Guards out for her head. As much as she sometimes welcomed the idea of a fight – an opportunity to unleash centuries’ worth of anger and frustration by turning all Asgore’s lackeys to dust – preserving the relative peace and safety she had here was her best hope, if she imagined she would feel such a thing again.

Peace she certainly had, as her visitor had not stopped by for the last two days. Toriel had wondered idly whether he was busy, although she had gathered that his interpretation of “busy” was most often not having time for a nap and drinking copious amounts of mustard on one of his many lunch breaks. Regardless, it was no business of hers; they had no formal obligations to one another, although she had briefly toyed with enlisting him as her eyes on the outside, but that idea now held little appeal. In truth, she could not claim to be surprised if he had finally tired of her pointed remarks and taken his business – or lack thereof – elsewhere, just like the rest of them.

Good riddance, she ought to have thought, for it could have been nothing more than habit that carried her back to the halls, vanquishing the cobwebs with her broom and taking small satisfaction in the startled squeaks of the gold-grubbing spiders dangling from the ceiling, until she reached the familiar, well-worn door. Toriel sighed, shaking her head at the now futile, yet automatic stirring of anticipation in her soul as she nonetheless tapped her claws half-heartedly against the old wood. There was no reason for him to come by tonight, she had not even bothered to suggest it last time they’d talked, so she did not know why...

“Who’s there?”

“...Oh.” Toriel faltered for a moment, blinking foolishly at the door; having not actually anticipated a response, she had not come prepared with a suitable joke. “Old – old lady.”

“No shit. Old lady who?”

“I did not know you could yodel.”

The joke was much more innocent than their usual exchanges - and ancient, almost as much as Toriel herself, but when it elicited a familiar gravelly chuckle she felt herself relax a little, her own muzzle curling into a smile. “Lady, there’s a lotta things you don’t know about me.”

Well, that was certainly true for the both of them, and yet she felt a peculiar kind of relief, a warmth settling over her like an old, scratchy but nevertheless comforting blanket as she sank into a sitting position, leaning back against the door with her paws clasped around her knees as she awaited his response.

“‘Kay, I got one. Why didn’t the skeleton go to the Gyftmas party?”

“I cannot imagine why.”

“He had nobody to go with.”

“Oh, that is truly dreadful,” Toriel snorted, her braying laugh echoing through the empty Ruins - so dreadful it was genius, and actually her favourite kind of joke since she was a young girl, like a distant whisper of simpler times. She would not tell her fr - visitor that, though, for he was surely smug enough as it is.

“C’mon, it’s a bone-cold classic. Hey, uh, speaking of...” As their laughter slowly died away, she heard him scuffling about in the snow, followed by what sounded like the crinkling of paper, “don’t get mushy on me or nothing, but I found this lyin’ around and I thought maybe - uh - here, just take it…”

An even louder snort escaped her at that, though more of disbelief than anything. “My goodness. You have not brought me a gyft?”

She was waiting for some punchline or other, but instead a rectangular object, crudely covered by a few sheets of old newspaper, poked its way through the small space under the door before jamming halfway through, causing the old wood to give an almighty creak. Toriel simply scoffed and rolled her eyes at the soft grunt of exertion and his poor attempt to shove it through the space, a little sorry he could not witness the full effect of her disdain.

“A flawlessly executed delivery,” she observed, deadpan. “Here, just let me -"

She grasped the sides of the package and tugged, and after a moment’s struggle it slid free and her fingertips brushed against something else. Slight and bony, yet surprisingly warm, they were unmistakably fingers - his fingers, and that briefest of contact sent an unexpected jolt of electricity up Toriel’s arm and through her magic as she immediately pulled her paw away as though she had burned herself on the stove.

Hurriedly, she turned her attention to the object in hand, her claws making short work of the wrapping (if one could call it that) to reveal its contents.

“Human Hunting with Fluffy Bunny,” she read, arching an eyebrow in bemusement at the sight of a simplistic cartoon rabbit, proudly bearing an axe in its teeth while holding up a distressed-looking head. “...What? Why in the world are you giving me this?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” her visitor retorted, effortlessly bouncing back her own sarcasm in a way she could not help but smirk a little at. “It’s the boss’ fave, y’know. Swiped it fresh from the librarby.”

She was about to correct his abysmal pronunciation, but as she idly drummed her claws over the bunny’s face, Toriel felt a few joints slide into place in her mind, and the revelation hit her: “Wait a moment. It is you. You are the skeleton.”

There was a long, protracted silence, more than enough to confirm her suspicions. “...Heh. Welp, congrats, lady. Finally saw through me, huh?”

His tone remained flippant as ever, but having many centuries’ experience of keeping and guarding secrets, Toriel easily detected the tremor in his voice, that potentially fatal moment of hesitation as he waited to see how she might leverage this new-found information against him. Though, honestly, it ought to have been of no interest to her whatsoever - the species of a lowly sentry mattered not in the slightest. It was her identity that may have been compromised by that...moment of contact, her hand reflexively curling into a fist as she recalled how very tiny and fragile his fingers - phalanges - felt against her own; to her simultaneous embarrassment and immense relief that the man on the other side could not see her, Toriel became aware that the warmth was rising to her cheeks as well. This was ridiculous - had it truly been so long since she had touched another monster, however briefly or inadvertently, that it should affect her this much?

“Hmmm. How very interesting,” she mused, elongating the vowels to regain most of her composure through drawing out the wait, and rather wishing she might be able to see him squirm. “It has been such a long time since I have seen one of your kind. Why, I would not have been surprised to hear you had all died out some decades ago.”

He let out a gruff chuckle, perhaps just a touch more defensive than usual. “Well, maybe there ain’t too many of us left, but lemme assure ya, lady: calcium’s tough stuff.”

“Now that I think about it, it does explain a lot. Of course, only a genuine bonehead could consider this an appropriate gift for a fully grown woman.” Fully grown and considerably larger than him, as she now understood, although it did not explain quite why that thought lingered in her mind as it did.

He laughed more fully at that, a sound she had come to savour; it sounded a little like he was gargling rocks. For all Toriel knew, he may have been. Perhaps it was a common skeleton practice.

“Okay, geez - you don’t want it? Just slide it on back to me and -”

“No,” Toriel protested, a little more forcefully than she’d intended as she protectively clasped Fluffy Bunny to her chest - it was absurd, she knew, but any book she had not read a hundred times over was indeed a rare and precious commodity. Plus...it was a gyft. However unsatisfactory, one did not simply throw such things back in someone’s face...or under the door, as the case may be. “I mean, I...I want to know what happens.”

She did not need to see her visitor to be absolutely certain that his grin was now at its smuggest. Even more curiously, she was discovering, it was infectious. “Gotcha. No spoilers. Lucky we already got, like, five copies back home - trust me, you do not wanna try sending Boss to bed without his bun. Huh, right, guess I should…” Toriel heard the creak of the door as he got up, followed by a barely audible popping noise and a soft, satisfied sigh; stretching out his bones, she supposed, now more curious as to what it might look like than she ever imagined being. “G’night, lady. And, uh...happy -“

“Do not,” Toriel interrupted, before he could say it, but she could summon no sincere vitriol in her voice and he simply chuckled knowingly.

“See ya ‘round.”

Neither of them had any need for such sentiment, and Toriel carried no more affection for the season back to her empty house than she had left with.

But perhaps, she reflected, walking briskly back through the Ruins with her first real gyft in centuries carefully tucked under her arm and the remnants of a smile lingering on her lips - of all the Gyftmases she had still to endure, some of them might be a little less...bonely.

[stripestheboar]

Unheard Complaints

Eyyyy, guess who meant to post this yesterday but fucking didn’t? Meeeeeeee!

So today will be a double upload, one of which you won’t see because it’s on another blog. Ha! Made ya think I was being generous didn’t I? Enjoy.

Warning: This does contain references to suicidal thoughts.

Summary: Set in Underfell. Sans doesn’t like his brother all that much. He’s bossy, controlling, tyrannical, and not to mention just an outright asshole. Someone just kill him already.

Sans sat at the double doors that blocked off the only entrance to the ruins. He grimaced, tapping his phalanges impatiently. With a sigh, he rapped his knuckles on the door for the third time that day. “Hey lady, you in there?” he hollered, waiting a few seconds for any response. When none was given, he rested his mandible on his hand in frustration. “Fuckin’ kill me already,” he mumbled, spouting out his mood. He wasn’t exactly having the best day right now, though to be fair, every day he was forced wasn’t a good day for him. He let out a tired sigh and got up from his spot by the doors, taking a quick shortcut back to his station. Yeah, he could’ve just walked, but he didn’t want to risk another lecture from Papyrus should he show up while he was taking his sweet time. Plus, he didn’t feel like moving his legs.

Coming to his station, he thought about retrieving a hotdog from behind it and decorating it in several lines of mustard. He figured he might as well eat something decent before going home, where Papyrus would more than likely force him to eat some of his poorly-made food. However, he soon decided against it, figuring he wasn’t hungry. So instead he stood here with his skull resting on his arms, enjoying the peaceful quiet of Snowdin’s forest for the time being. Now that there was no lady to talk to, he figured it was a good time to get a quick nap in. Sure, Papyrus would have a fit if he saw him, but after having it happen so many times, his ability to give a shit had been reduced significantly.  

His brother had a set routine: work started at eight and ended at five, with Papyrus checking in every two hours or so, probably to make sure he wasn’t slacking off or wasting his time at Grillby’s. They got Sundays off as part of the negotiation with Sans, but older brother wouldn’t be satisfied until he got the entire week off. If it was one thing he hated, it was being woken up at five in the morning and forced to eat cancer just so he could spend nine hours at a pointless job. He didn’t get why Papyrus bothered keep checking up on him when he was pretty sure he knew just how god awful sentry duty was. Nothing happened, it was quiet, and monsters didn’t even bother to venture around there. Just the isolation alone made him want to hang himself from sheer boredom.

Sans was sure Papyrus was just looking for the control, seeing as he was surrounded by sycophants each and every day. He needed to somehow exert power over everything, including his own brother. If the collar wasn’t humiliating enough, he needed to know his whereabouts every minute of the day or he’d smash something. No one was allowed to touch him, and god forbid anyone try to hurt him. It was so bad that monsters were avoiding him in fear of his brother’s wrath. It didn’t bother him, though; he didn’t like any of them anyways. But at this point in his life, it was getting to be enough for him. He didn’t even allow him to lock his own bedroom door. Papyrus wasn’t just over-bearing; he was a goddamn tyrant over Sans.

The smaller skeleton yawned and closed his sockets so he could catch a few winks.

He wondered why Papyrus couldn’t just leave him alone and move on with his life. He damn well knew he was better off without having to drag around his giant angry potato of a brother. He supposed the same could be said for practically anyone else he knew.

“SANS! You imbecile! What do you think you’re doing?”

Sans cringed slightly, groaning to himself. Had it really already been two hours? Or was Papyrus shortening his visiting intervals. Should the second be true, he might as well kill himself now.  

He sat up straight, playing a cocky grin on his skull as he rested his mandible on his fist. “Hey there, Boss,” he greeted, watching the much larger skeleton approach, clearly angered by something or another. Sans guessed that something was him.

“You were sleeping at your station again!” Papyrus growled, his arms crossed as he glared down at his brother. Wow, way to go captain fucking obvious. Sans shook his head, a sarcastic tone playing into his voice. “What? Me? Sleeping? At my station? This station right here? The one I’m standing at right now with a totally inconspicuous pool of drool on it? Pfffft. No. Never! How could you suspect such a thing of your own bro?” Papyrus tapped a clawed and gloved phalanx on his humerus impatiently, an annoyed look crossed onto his face. “Once again, brother, your egregious attempt at humor fails to have any effect whatsoever other than to vex me.” His arms were now at his sides, bent outward like a disapproving mother. “You know what I told you about sleeping on the job?”

Sans brought his hands up to make air quotes. “Uh huh, ‘job’.”  

“Well you get paid, don’t you?” Papyrus argued, clearly annoyed that he was having this discussion again. “Well yeah, but fer doin’ jack shit! I don’t see why I need one when you’re head of the freakin’ guard!”

“This isn’t about the point of your job, Sans. It’s about you sleeping on it!” the younger skeleton scolded. “You sleep like a rock! You’re practically an open target.”

“Yeah yeah. Look, Boss, I seriously doubt any human is gonna waltz through those doors, see me, and try to kill me before I wake up,” Sans grumbled. “In case ya haven’t noticed, diddly-dick happens around here. I’d wake up from a pin dropping before some little shit got the drop on me.” Papyrus raised the tops of his sockets. “Oh? And what about monsters? Some Snowdrake looking for easy EXP could easily take advantage of you!”

Sans could only groan and rest his head on his hand for a few seconds. “God you’re so fucking paranoid- I’m fine, boss! No monster is gonna try to attack me if they know what’s good for ‘em.”

“Oh, you’re really starting to irritate me, brother,” Papyrus growled, clenching his sharpened teeth. “Perhaps I should make you carry the night shift!” Sans almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why couldn’t he get it? “Are you kidding me? Pah, just kill me,” he scoffed, walking towards Snowdin.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Papyrus demanded. “Home! Where the fuck else?” he shot back, only to be stopped when his arm was grabbed and he was pulled back. “Don’t you walk away from me!” the tyrant spat, his sockets seemingly alight with rage. Sans furrowed his brow, but soon scoffed and wrenched his arm away. “Go fuck yourself. Just leave me alone for once,” he muttered, taking a shortcut home.

Upon landing at the entrance of his house, he threw his hooded jacket on the couch and flopped onto its cushions. He thought about going to his room or taking his anger out on something, but decided to just calm himself down with forced relaxation and TV. Papyrus was a stubborn bastard, but he was also a workaholic. He wouldn’t see that asshole until after five.  

Sans quietly fumed to himself, swiping up the remote to the TV. Who did his brother think he was, his owner? He already had a cat; what the hell did the need a Sans for? Why couldn’t he understand he was the cause of his own problems, not his older brother? Why couldn’t he just leave him alone and give the job to someone who actually want to go outside and be active.  

He wanted to start going through the channels, only to find out that the remote had gone dead long before hand. Now it was stuck on Mettaton’s channel. The universe just loved fucking with him, huh. He gave the device a confused look, pressing the channel button about a thousand times before throwing it onto the other side of the couch in frustration. “God, just fucking kill me,” he grunted, going upstairs and stopping at the balcony.

At the end of the second floor was Doomfanger, his head between his legs as he licked his own backside. Sans grimaced. “Is this what you do all day when we’re not home?” he muttered, catching the cat’s attention. The feline quickly sat up straight as if nothing happened, but he knew better. “Heh, caught ya, bitch,” he chuckled. “You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to make ass jokes. I’ve got, like, fifty lined up.”

That’s when the door suddenly slammed open. “SANS!”

Sans froze, swinging his skull to the entrance in surprise. Papyrus was leaning against the door, anger flaring in his expression as he slammed the door. He looked like he had just sprinted all the way from the stations, and from how short a time his brother had been here, he probably did. He was quick to head up the stairs after Sans, quickly catching up to him before he could escape to his room by grabbing his arms once again, but like last time, the smaller skeleton wrenched himself away with a look of anger and disgust as he moved past him and down the stairs. “What is wrong with you?” the younger skeleton asked, chasing after him. “I could say the same for you,” Sans scoffed, snatching up his jacket and tugging it on.

“Brother, can’t you see that I’m trying to help you?” Papyrus reasoned, following behind him with sharp movements. “Oh yeah? Well no one asked you to do that, did they?” he replied, zipping up his jacket and heading towards the door.

“Sans, I just want you to-“

“What, Papyrus?” Sans exclaimed, spitting around to confront his brother. “What do you want me to be, huh? All active and haughty like you? Some obedient servant to your every beck and call? Well that’s not who I am, and for some goddamn reason, you can’t get that notion into your thick skull. Why can’t you just understand that I want to be alone? I don’t know what the fuck you’re expecting from me. So what is it, Boss? What the fuck do you want from me?”

“I just want you to care about something for once, okay?”

Sans stopped, his brow bone furrowing. “Wait… what?”

Papyrus was still, his mouth agape as he tried to find the right words to say, but he couldn’t seem to find them. For the first time in years, Sans saw just how helpless he seemed at this moment. He didn’t look angry or enraged. He just didn’t know what to do.

“I… I’ve tried everything, Sans,” he admitted. “I got you a job. I try my best to make sure you eat something because you never fucking eat anything, even when you knew you were starving. I protected you from monsters. I’ve threatened you. I’ve put a goddamn collar on you. I wake you up and take you outside and try to have you do something, but no matter what I do, you just don’t care. Even when I forbade you from going to Grillby’s, you barely said a word of argument. All you ever do is sleep lie around everywhere and… and…”

“Paps… what are you…”

“I’m fucking worried, Sans!” he interrupted, almost sounding out of breath. “You have almost no HP as it is, and no matter what I do, I can’t get it to go back up. I’m worried… scared that every time I come for you in the morning you won’t wake up, or that you won’t be there anymore when I come to check on you. What… what am I supposed to do if you don’t come back, huh? What if, one day, I come home and you’ve…” He paused. “I mean… all you ever do is talk about how much you want to-“

“Hey hey, don’t talk like that,” Sans stopped him, grabbing his hand, his voice now a much softer tone. “Those were just jokes, okay? I’m not gonna go anywhere, I promise.” He caught a glimmer of red in his brother’s sockets. Were those what he thought they were? “Are you…?”

Papyrus quickly wiped under his eye sockets, looking away from what he could assume was embarrassment. “Sans,” he said slowly, his voice now sounding smaller and cracked. “You won’t actually kill yourself… will you?”

“They’re just jokes,” Sans repeated.

“Are they?” Papyrus asked. At that moment, Sans paused, his voice caught. He stared up at his brother, mouth open as tried to say something to assure his brother.

“San-“

Sans wrapped both hands around his brother’s much larger one. “I won’t,” he promised. “I’m not going anywhere, bro, I promise.”

Papyrus looked unsure, even doubtful, but gave a slow nod, pulling away from Sans’ grip and turning around to head upstairs. However, he froze for a moment, and before Sans could react, he was scooped into a tight hug by his younger brother.

“I love you, brother,” Papyrus whispered, his hug tightening. “I never say it as much as I should, but I love you more than anything. I say things I don’t mean or do thing I don’t want to, and something I think I’m the reason for all of this. But I still love you, Sans.”

Sans was frozen in shock, having not been prepared. Slowly, though, he returned the hug, something the brothers hadn’t done since Papyrus’ injury. “I love you, too, bro,” Sans mumbled to him under his breath. “And don’t you forget that. No matter what I do or what I say, I’ll always love you.” He gave Papyrus’ back a gentle pat before slowly pulling away. “I… I guess we need to open up a bit more, huh? Set a few ground rules?” he said with a chuckle. Papyrus gave a slow nod, smiling some as he rubbed his sockets a second time. Sans grinned, giving hive brother a small nudge. “C’mon, let’s talk it over lunch. I’m kinda hungry,” he said, gesturing to the kitchen. “That is honestly the biggest surprise I’ve heard all day,” Papyrus hummed, walking into the kitchen.

“Yeah, I guess I- was that a joke?”  

The younger brother just laughed softly, feeling like a small weight had been lifted. “I’ll cancel the rest of my plans today. I feel tired. I must be if I’m making jokes.” Sans just rolled his eyelights and walked over beside him. “Anything for lunch?” he asked. “Takeout from Grillby’s,” was all he said. “I’m kind of sick of my own food.”

Sans just chuckled, looking up at his brother. “Thanks bro.” Papyrus just nodded, picking up the phone with a small smile. “I just want to see you happy, Sans. That's all the thanks I'll ever need."