#the gasp I made took all the oxygen out of this hemisphere (sorry) and also spooked my partner | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-writing-mobster · 5 years ago

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AAAAAHHHH I really really want to see a "what-if" of Frisk having a nightmare about drowning and Sans is like "I heard you crying, what's wrong?" and she's like "what the fuck do you think, asshole!?"

You got it boss. One Nightmare with fluff on the side comin right up. Also, some bonus art for desert, on the house. 😉

What If Frisk dreamt of drowning? Fluff ensues.

Frisk stood at the edge of a sandy beach. White sand. Pure white sand. Like ivory meeting slate. The sand was fine between her toes and the water breathed sighs of relief as it lapped against the shoreline.

She took a step into the cold, blue, water that licked against her toes. A second step. The water rose to her ankles… to her knees… to her waist the further she walked.

Should she turn back?

Why would she turn back?

The ocean called to her. It wanted her. Who was she to deny its song?

Her feet could no longer touch the ground, so she began to swim. Long broad strokes of her arms swept past her ears, pulling her further out into the slate, blue water. The languid water. She would not allow herself to look back. For what would happen? She might turn to salt. The beach her own personal Sodom and Gomorrah. It wasn't hers to go back to anymore. The only thing that awaited was the waves.

The current grabbed her ankle and dragged her under. The water was black. The light blotted out by ink. Ink.

She thrashed as she tried to reach the top. But which way was up? Which way was down? She could only feel the water pressing around her.

She tried to hold her breath, and her lungs burst for air. First it burns, then the pressure builds up until the pain grows in one's body and one is forced to exhale. Bubbles blistered about Frisk as she was forced to do exactly that. She flailed, but the current was strong, and the abyss stared back with indifference. The burning grows more adamant and one can feel the pain start to pound in one's chest, one's face, one's eyes and ears. One is forced to take another breath, but then one would swallow nothing but water.

Frisk choked as her lips parted and nostrils flared for oxygen. She kicked, squirmed, flailed, writhed. Anything to free herself; but the ocean was stronger. She began to scream, her voice strangled by water. She swallowed mouthfuls of water, and her lungs were bursting. She needed to choke and breathe…

She was sure she would die. As her eyes fluttered open weakly, vision blackening, she saw a grinning skull growing closer. Its pale face was stark against the inky void. Two cracks scarred the opposite hemisphere's of its face, and it grinned with cruel delight.

Frisk cried out in terror.

A hand tangled into her hair and she gasped as she was yanked out.

⁂

Frisk jolted awake with a scream, her legs tangled in her sheets, sweat hot on her body. Her chest heaved as she gulped down air as if her life depended on it.

Tears filled her eyes and she fell back against her pillow.

She flinched as a knuckle gently rapped her door, brushing her eyes. These nightmares were getting vivid. Why were her nightmares always so real in this Underworld? Was it the magic?

"Yes? Did I wake you up? I'm sorry," she croaked as she raked a hand through her hair. The door creaked open and she met eyes with the familiar red pin-pricks of Sans. She clenched her jaw and glanced away.

"No… no, I was up… are you… ok?" He murmured. She shook her head at the question and hugged her knees to her chest.

"Nightmare… a really… it was so real." Sans grimaced knowingly. He slid into her room and made his way to the edge of the bed. She pulled herself away from him and leaned against the headboard, a frown on her face.

"What was—"

"—Drowning. It's always drowning… I wonder why…" Sans's grimace grew a bit more guilty and he looked away.

"Ah… my fault." She hummed and peeled the sheets away from her. They were growing a bit to suffocating.

"Don't give yourself so much credit," she murmured. He chuckled softly at her jab at him.

"Well… do you want some water?" He asked. She shot him an unamused frown and he grinned.

"Probably not. Maybe some tea?" She shook her head and laid back down.

"Why?" She whispered. He furrowed his brow at her. Did she always have to question him?

"Why what?" He asked as he stood back up. She looked back up at him. Those brown eyes. They made him weak. He'd do anything for her, and all she had to do was bat her eyelashes at him. She turned him into a true idiot.

"I have a feeling you wouldn't treat anyone else this way." He shrugged and came to stand at the window.

"That's not true. Papyru—"

"—Papyrus doesn't count, he's your brother." The two laughed quietly. Wasn't that the truth? He wasn't about to argue with her.

"I guess you're right." She drew herself out of bed and came to stand beside him. They watched the snowfall together and Frisk felt that familiar spark in her soul. Why was it always at the ungodly hours of the morning or night when their true colors for each other shined through?

"You turn me into such a dumbass," he grunted. She bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

"Oh really? Elaborate," she said as she hesitantly toyed with the hem of his shirt sleeve. He gave her a gentle grin, but kept his eyes trained on the falling drifts of snow.

"I was so convinced that… I wasn't going to let you trick me." She scoffed, her fingers tangling themselves in his shirt. He stilled at her touch.

"I wasn't trying to trick anyone…" she breathed. He tilted his head and finally looked back at her. They stayed like that for a moment before he leaned down and cupped her face. Frisk sighed into him as he kissed her. Her soul flickered with warmth. This was where she belonged, this was where she felt content. Despite all their baggage, despite their history…

He pulled away all too soon and she leaned against his chest, tears shimmering on her cheeks.

"I think that's why it worked."

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