bits of sansby!

sorry not sorry

huehuehuehue angst time >:D

human+genderswap au because i can

Serif= Sans

Proxima (Proxi)= Papyrus (Nova would be her middle name while Gaster would be her last name I guess)

Griselle= Grillby

Gaster is the same bc honestly it still works imo

Edit 11/8/19:
Wow I really should've clarified how this AU works uh

Yes they're humans but magic is still a thing. Don't ask me how that works, it's magic.

There's a little bit that mentions Gris pressing in bits of heat with her fingers and it sort of made me realize.

Uh- not really relevant but- Griselle isn't necessarily affected negatively by the cold, but she is sensitive to it. Partially because she dislikes it in the first place, but also because of the sort of fire magic she has running through her.

I think it's sort of implied that the story is almost exactly the same, they just happen to be humans (and genderswappped).

Okay that's it

__________________

Serif's eyes shot open as she shot up from her mattress.

Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream.

It sure didn't feel like it.

She laid herself back down, shaky breaths not evening out, but slowing. As the last trails of sweat fell down her chin, she looked at her clock.

6 AM. She sighed. She only got two hours of sleep. She didn't fall asleep at 4 AM, her last nightmare was at that time. She slept at 2.

As her breaths finally calmed, her thought steadied. Her mind was empty, but at the same time, it felt like every single thing she could think possible, which was quite a lot, was sending a punch to her head.

Timelines.

Idiot, no! They stopped. The resets won't happen. Right? No. No! This is a reset, they're out there. Are they killing? No! What if they do next time? Are we going to the surface again? Which timeline is this?

The thought of timelines trailed her train of thought to Gaster.

No. No no no. She won't come back. Can she come back? Will she? She won't. Maybe. I miss her. She doesn't miss you. Does she? No. No?

Missing. The fight in the judgement hall.

Hurts. Still hurts. Can they change? Did they? Will they? Will it happen again? No? Spare. No. Fought. She...

Proxima.

Disappointment. You don't deserve her. She deserves happiness, not you. Couldn't save. Didn't save. Idiot! Too late. Too late. Dust. Dust. Dust. She hates you. Does she? No, she's too nice. Right? Does she want something? Anything?

Once more, Serif thought of her repeated death. She went to Griselle's. Griselle.

Surprisingly, her mind drew a blank. The circulation of thought halted.

Some flicker of emotion found the will to culminate in Serif. What was that? Hope? Happiness?

She thought of her partner. How she was always there. Listening.

Helping.

She unknowingly found it in herself to reach to her nightstand, holding her run-down phone. She dialed Griselle.