#little nightmares fanfiction

[cutesykeito]

Excerpt of a Little Nightmares Fanfic

((Written by: me)) ((Feat. My OC called PJ))

~*~*~*~

Waking up with a sharp gasp, PJ shook her head to recover from her nightmare. She told herself that it was only a nightmare, that it wasn’t real, even though she knew better than that. If it wasn’t real, she wouldn’t still be here. Nevertheless, it was at least a little comforting to pretend.

There was no way of knowing how many days had passed since PJ found this house, or if any days had passed at all. PJ figured it had maybe been three days, since she’d fallen asleep and had that same nightmare three different times in this house. She would sleep inside of a small dresser that the monster with the gun never opened–at least he hadn’t so far. There was only an empty can inside the dresser so it was safe to assume the monster with the gun had no reason to look in there anyways.

Before PJ shoved open the dresser for some air, she took a moment to listen for the monster with the gun. She didn’t hear his heavy breathing nor his heavy stomping through the house, so she carefully pushed open the dresser doors and climbed down onto the ground. The air in the house wasn’t fresh by any means, but it felt better than the dresser. The house didn’t smell too bad, if you ignored the faint reek of rotten flesh.

Now, until she fell asleep again or had to hide, PJ had some time to herself to…well, she didn’t quite know what she was doing. For the past however many days, PJ had been in this room, staying here in the safety of that dresser. She figured it would be better to stay in this house than wander around outside, even with the monster with the gun lurking about. She was also too frightened to try and escape in case something went wrong and the monster with the gun saw her. So, PJ wandered around this room, examining everything for what felt like the hundredth time.

There was something hanging from the ceiling that she couldn’t reach, that seemed like it would open something, though PJ didn’t know what since the monster with the gun had only used it when she was hiding, and she was too scared to get a peek. Since it was on the ceiling, PJ thought that maybe it opened up an attic. She didn’t think that’d be useful to her, though. Attics were scary enough back at her old home.

The first day she was here, PJ had ripped up some of the wallpaper, thinking that maybe some secret unlocked door would be hidden behind it, but she had no such luck. If there was a secret door, it would be monster-sized so she couldn’t reach. PJ was already short for her age, but being in this place she felt like an ant all alone in an abandoned ant farm. If only this place was actually abandoned and had no monsters.

PJ continued to contemplate as she stood on the rug in the middle of the floor (she had already checked under it for something, and found nothing, of course). It wasn’t long before she heard something coming. Only this didn’t sound like the monster with the gun. Whatever it was, it was light on its feet and sounded like it was moving really fast, right towards her room. Back inside the dresser she went, heart pounding.

She heard whatever it was pit-pattering its way to the room right next to hers. It was a familiar sound, almost like the sound of her own feet against the wooden floors of the house. Could it be another kid like her? She’d seen other kids in her nightmares before she came here, but she hasn’t once encountered any since waking up for real in the middle of a dark forest. She wanted to call out to whoever it was, but was too frightened, wondering what would happen to her if her assumption was wrong. PJ’s main method of survival is hiding away. She found that worked well back home even though what she would hide from wasn’t as life threatening as this.

[grim-faux]

X8 _ An Unfortunate Side Effect

First – A Small Quiet

Trigger Warning for bad habits and harmful habits around children. Please do not smoke or use other controlled substances that are not given by a licensed professional. Read on with caution.

And reiterating that smoking is not condoned or considered/portrayed as cool or beneficial to people who struggle with addictions. The Thin Man does not understand such concepts, smoking is simply something that he is 'supposed' to do, and he does use the affects to mellow him out. He's a grown ass man who was raised by an a flesh monsters disguised as a Tower. End PSA

Who could have thought routines would be detested by one who had spent countless decades (if not centuries) trapped within a perpetuating cycle?

No, the Thin Man wandered the roads, he chose paths at his whim or stalled at his fancy. He was not confided to a set route; he held no obligations to the repetition of a loop he fought to untangle from – if tentatively at this point. Though he still felt confided to the hypothetical cycle unyielding, he was liberated in some manner to meander into this room or judge that building, and decide the next course to take. He could scrutinize the signs on buildings, ascertain if the mark speek elaborated upon the contents within, and deduce if they might yield insight of his situation, or if it would be a probable location to give a pause and reconsider his life choices.

It was rare that the Thin Man lingered for any duration of time, if only to allow a particularly challenging wave of storms to pass, or allow the small creature huddled in his shadow the opportunity to nest down and find some food. It was usually when said creature had sufficed all interest in the specific zone, that the Thin Man returned to his wanderings. He could infer this, typically by when the smallers harassment intensified to unbearable levels.

The room was in bearable shape, bone dry and scarce of all vermin (save for one). This good quality had saved a few books from utter dissolution, which allowed his focus to preen through the pages. Some of the letters had faded, and the pages were a slate gray, yet he could make out enough. Which he stubbornly threaded through.

“Are you done ransacking the kitchen?” posed the arched figure. The desk was unforgivable short, the chair had faults as well – it wobbled nefariously, until he had mended the issue. He could not mend the owner of the face, peering up at him from beside one tall stack of books. Nor did he anticipate an answer.

He could sense the boy was in one of his moods.

“Did I not pose a question?” he prompted, once more. This time, the gaze wavered and the child inched back beside the books. “Ḥ̸̪̋m̴̩͈̀̕ṃ̶̽̇?”

The boy huddled down beside the corner of the books, fiddling with the sleeve of his coat and concealing his face under his latest hat. It was possible the location had nothing that the child could make use of, nonetheless, he would not know for certain unless he was given speek.

The Thin Man adjusted the cigarette in his fingers and took a slow drag. “Do you need something? D̶̯́ǐ̸̪d̴̟̽ ̷͇͝ Ȳ̸̥o̴̪͠u̵̹̿ find  ̵͛͜S̵̯͋ö̸̦m̸̼̒e̸̮̿t̴͉͐ḫ̴͗i̷̹̒n̵̰̈g̶͇͐?” He worked to press his focus into the tome, rather than the scrap of fabric that blew after his heels across all the streets.

For whatever reason, the child shuffled away from the books and ‘tiptoed’ closer to where he was propped up on his elbow.

S̷̪̍i̷͉̒g̷̥͐h̶͓̄.̷̩͝

As per tradition, he pretended to be unaware of this movement. In fact, the child ceased to exist altogether. Unless he made speek, the Thin Man was not interested in decoding the cryptic needs.

A tug came to the sleeve of the arm, which held his more interesting book aloft. Not a sound though. Hence, he gave the boy not the moment. The child’s emergence was progress, was it not? Not that he cared. His acknowledgment of the child was to brush off his sleeve, and sweep away the boy.

This had the negative desire, as now he had a child latched onto his fingers and biting.

The Thin Man exhaled smoke and tried flicking the vandal away (this never worked). “I have Ṋ̵́ỏ̶̞ ̶̭̒ I̷͍̐n̶̛͍t̸̼̽ē̷͍r̵̡̄e̴̟͂ș̴̈t̶̖̀ in your  ̶̗͌T̷̤͋ŗ̵̕i̶̹̿ṿ̵̚i̵͔͑ą̵͛l̷̻͌ nonsense.” Usually he got a hiss or some calamity of gibberish, but the boy was being rigidly hushed. “What is the M̸̰̉e̵̗͊a̷̖̽n̴̤̐i̶̺͐n̴͖͝g̷̞̍ ̷͚̒ of T̵̖͘h̵̻̄ị̸̑s̸̤͗?”

With his hands occupied by book and cigarette, he was left with no functional way of dealing with the boy. He set aside his reading, then reached over and peeled up one of the legs hooked around his pinky. An effort was made by the child to latch onto his cufflink with his teeth, but with a firm tug that scheme was dismantled. Now, he had his hand liberated, though he was likely in the same predicament. The child was brutish about taking a hint and leaving well enough alone, he should know.

Dangling the boy by his ankle, he leaned onto the desk with his elbow supporting him and watched, amused, as the boy curled up to grapple with the fingers pinching his ankle. Still not a noise or anything. That was interesting, at least. Well, aside from the audible Plop! the hat produced when it smacked the desk’s surface. It was comical. He could feel the laugh track roar in his head.

“D̵̲̓ŏ̸̘ you even K̴̡̾ṅ̵̦ọ̷̈́w̵̥̎ ̷̜͝ why you are T̷̈́ͅò̸̜r̷͙̈́m̴̻͌ē̴̖n̶̘̄t̵̠̔i̵͉͒ń̸͔g̶̫̾ me? Or is this S̵̢̎ö̷͍́m̷̠̐e̸̼̊ ̶͕̈ S̶͕͌ō̴̼r̶͙͑t̸̥̓ ̶̡̚ of Í̶̗m̵̰͌p̶̀ͅų̷́l̸̹̔s̵͖̓e̴̹̾ in your  ̴̱̈́M̷̞͝e̵̡͘n̶̥͝a̶̋͜c̶̙̊e̷̗̓ criteria?” He doubted the boy knew, let alone understood that sting of sounds. The Thin Man fancied twirling the child, which kept him from prying at his narrow ankle.

“What should I do with this child? What should I̶̡̥̅̎̆̉͛ ̵̭̗̞͈̖̃́̍͘͝D̷͈̄̀̏ơ̵̢̩̬̻̰͗? Hmm…” The boy had no input, other than to spin. “Nothing? Not even a G̵̛̠͒̾̌̆r̷̡̯̪̥̥͔̾͐͊̊̓͝ơ̸̡̟̠̤̗͒͂̅̌w̵̛̥̣̟̙͛l̵̼̼̺̥̔͌̿́͝ͅ?̷͎̒̾́͝ͅ? Grr….” He enunciated it, but this received no reaction. Not that the Thin Man could tell with the way the child was twirling.

“W̵͕̟͋ͅḣ̸͕̣̓͝y̶̤͗͊  ̷̩͕͌́̍Ḛ̷͋͐v̶͓̩̱̈́̓̋ȇ̵̙̝n̶̤͚͆͠ ̷͙̋͠ͅ put yourself T̸̫̆h̸͇̋r̵̻̟̃̅̀ō̶̫u̸͕̯͒͌̇͜g̶͓͇̾̉h̸͙̆̔ ̶̭̖̼̉͘ T̸͎̉͠h̶͉̭͊͂̈́ị̸̧̅̈́̇s̵͓͋̕, if your are not going T̵̜̔o̴̧̗̊̋ ̵̩̬̆͗ E̸̥͊n̷͚͔͑͂g̷̲̒a̵̢̠͑͗g̷͉̑e̵͈̽ those powers you N̶͙̔e̶̼͝g̷͎͑l̷̖͋ẽ̵͉ć̶̯t̵̪̏?” The boy could easily, very EASILY relocate to a different location altogether. If anything, the child could escape his grasp with a flicker. He was certain. The boy refused. “You F̴r̴u̴s̸t̶r̶a̷t̶e̵  ̷M̷e̵.” The child continued twirling. He had no right to look offended, affronted, or whatever.

Until he let the vandal drop onto the tables surface. He made sure to lower the boy a tad bit before releasing him. “Why not H̴u̴n̶t̶  ̵D̸o̵w̷n̸ ̶ some other C̴r̶e̴a̷t̵u̸r̸e̷ ̴ to T̵o̵r̷m̸e̸n̸t̶?̷” It appeared the child would not be frolicking off to dismantle the abhorrent Viewers or whatever sort of fiend he might have the misfortune of crossing paths with.

Right away, the boy launched to his feet. But fell over. He rolled over and tried once more, only for repeated results. Again, and again. And. Again. The child stumbled sideways, pivoted on his toes, and toppled to his knees. Before he could even begin to recover, the boy tipped sharply to his side and flopped to his back.

The Thin Man practically face palmed. When he looked down again, the boy was still tipsy but managed to stand on his two feet and glower up at him. He had to emphasize that “glowered up”, since the child looked ridiculous with how he wobbled. The Thin Man took a deep draw on his cig and leaned down. He was disappointed when the ruffian did not tumble down the way he anticipated after the cliché puff, though the alarmed expression was worth it.

“Ĺ̷̬ē̵̖ä̵͙r̸͔͂n̶̖̊ȩ̴̌d̸͍̎ ̴̪͝ your L̸̝͒ĕ̵̥s̵̪̀ś̶̝ó̵̖n̵̙̆,̵̈́͜ ̴̭͐ yet?” he smirked. The boy snorted and snarled. At last, some noise! “There W̷e̵ ̶G̷o̷. When I ̴W̵a̵n̷t̸ ̴S̷p̴e̶e̴k̴,̶ you  ̴W̶i̸l̵l̵ —” He cut off, when the child crashed to the table and continued snorting and hacking. Wetly. That did not sound right.

The Thin Man tilted his head and arched his brow. “B̸o̵y̸. Why must you be so ̸D̷r̶a̸m̴a̴t̷i̵c̷?” If anything, this was insulting. Though by increments, it began to dawn on him this could be serious.

The child hunched over on his hands and feet to hack full bodily into the surface beneath him, choking and wheezing with every grasp for the musty air. Never had the loathsome environment given the child such a reaction – none of the dust, putrid air, or fouled crawlspaces the boy navigated, ever put him into such a fit. And the lad was buckled forward, croaking with every iota of his being while also fighting back the sounds he could not feign off.

“What have you done now?” Clearly, the child had gotten into something. This explained his reluctance for the speek. “M̴o̷n̵o̵?̸ ̶What D̷i̷d̷ ̵ Y̵o̶u̶ get  ̶I̸n̶t̶o̷? Make some speek for me.”

That was likely an impossibility, as the child choked back another retched snort. This was the Thin Man’s cue to crush out his cigarette and scoop up the boy. He glitched out of the room, bypassing the short – but at this time infinite hall – locating the kitchen space in a few pops. His outlined sputtered as he set the child on the counter, he dragged open the drawers with a glimmer of his powers. When he found a rag, he hastily drenched and rinsed the musty compress before applying it to the child’s face.

“What I̸̦͝n̶̠͋ ̸̰̚ T̴̟̾h̸̳͝e̷̠̿ ̸̙̑ T̵͎̂ò̷̝w̶̻̄e̴̖̓r̸͕̂ ̴͙͂ did you do? How do you M̷̩̓ạ̴̾ǹ̴̯a̸͖͐g̶̖̍e̴̹̐ ̴̣͝such events? Huh?” The Thin Man did not wait for chirps or utterances, he did his best to wipe the coat and matted hair of anything that could be the cause of this irritation. “Are you L̵i̴s̷t̵e̵n̸i̷n̸g̶ to me?”

Probably not. He gave the child a brief glimpse, seeing only watering eyes twisted shut and a nose that was a faucet. And of course, more of that retched rattling gasps. The squeaks devolved into creaking whimpers that barely sounded like an animal, never mind a child. The child was a repulsive mess. “What have I told you about being C̴̺̃ạ̴̓u̸̡͆ț̶̑i̷̹͆õ̶̡ũ̸͕s̸͍̑  ̸̩̐W̵̨͛h̶̻̿e̷̜͊r̴̳͌e̷͕͛ you  ̷̯͒R̸͕͛u̸̖͆m̵͉͆m̷͕̄ḁ̸͗g̷̯̈ê̷̪?̷̭̃ ” The dread that the child tumbled into a child trap laced with toxins now festered in his head.

What would he do?

“Hold on. I’ll make you better. Hold on.” The Thin Man did his best to clean the scum off the child’s face and fix him up. That did succeed in subsiding the hoarse choking and most of the hacking. He draped the boy over his palm and rubbed his back, working to massage out the gurgling phlegm sounds hitching and gargling. “There. Let it out. That’s right. There we go. Try breathing….” It unsettled him how the boy struggled for the barest of breath. “Easy…. Slow breaths. Slower. Like I showed you. Deep breath in, and then exhale. That’s goo—”

He shut up when the boy pitched forward on his hand and vomited. Or dry heaved. Nothing came up, but it nonetheless sounded grotesque. Ew.

“There,” he grimaced, struggling to control the obscene crackle in his voice. “That… er, that should make you feel better.” Nothing really came out, but the child’s breathing at last eased. Sort of. The harsh quaking racked through his ribs, and the body persisted to rasp and convulse. “Easy. Easy there.” Once the child’s gasping settled a bit more, he gave him a few careful pats. Just to make certain all the foul was worked out of his child.

“Feeling better?” Without lifting the child, he leaned close to the counter to check the boy. He was given no response, aside from a sniffling-wheeze. “You look leagues better.” A wet sneeze smacked his palm. His lip twitched, yet there was nothing to do about it.

Raising himself and the child up with him, the boy settled against his collar as he began to move. The Thin Man continued to rub at his back while he searched around the kitchen, hunting for whatever put the child in such sorts. With a flick of the transmission, he forced doors to the cabinets open, and wrenched open the cupboards beneath the counter. One handed – he kept Mono secure to his collar – his hand rifled through, seeking out any spore or dust that must have contaminated the boy.

“What in the Tower did you stumble into?”

A wet hiccup spared no insight. While the child wiped his muggy nose on his collar. Never mind. He dismissed the kitchen area and prowled into the other rooms. It was not uncommon for food offerings to get laced with toxins in the denizens efforts to ‘fix’ the pest infestation. Though he expected his boy to be savvy about such dangers – most children knew better. At times, the corrupt offerings could be disguised and at others, children were desperate. This was not the typical MO of a toxic contaminate, but who knew all the effects of poisons.

“Did you fall into something?” No response. Slight snorts and whining were the only reply, accompanied by a faint snorting and a faint ‘tweeing’, whenever the child wheezed. “What did you get into, child? It is important that I know.” The boy did begin to burble something.

“C̴o̷m̵e̵  ̵A̸g̷a̷i̵n̶?̷”

The boy did not reiterate or adjust his speek. It was more incoherent grumbling. He should be gratified by that amount of speek in leu of the total absence of noise.

“Focus on your breathing,” he rumbled. Searching through the remaining few rooms absorbed a good portion of his focus, but the Thin Man did manage to enforce his point by stroking Mono’s back. None of the obscure corners or out of view spaces under a cabinet or bed proffered any sort of contaminate that might explain the child’s reaction. The fear that the child may have chewed on something arguably nonedible did weight on his thoughts, yet he held out hope that he would discover some clever ruse that would have duped a desperate boy. He resisted interrogating the child further for the time.

“That is better, is it not?” A croaky hiccup was the most optimistic noise. “There-there. No more W̶h̷e̵e̸z̶i̵n̸g̵.̴” He really did not evaluate if there was much improvement, instead opting for another patrol of the common spaces in his last gambit to locate some clue. None of which was forth coming. And the child had nothing coherent to supply for the broiling mystery, aside from wet sniffling.

The Thin Man once again wandered into the kitchen, and once again stood before the sink. He adjusted the tap for a fine trickle and took a ‘fresh’ towel from the open drawer. The fabric was stiff and dank from centuries of forgot, but once liquid was applied to the fiber it softened considerably. Setting the boy down on the counter, he kept the vandal caged by his hand while scrubbing off the stale layer of yuck.

“C̵e̷a̵s̷e̴ ̶ M̵o̷v̷i̸n̸g̵.̶” The boy was going nowhere, but his wriggling made it impossible to scrub. “The more you fight T̴h̴e̶  ̶L̷o̴n̶g̸e̸r̷ ̷ this T̶a̸k̵e̸s̸.” This warning went unheeded, and the child had his teeth latched onto the rag. With a croaking growl.

The boy began chewing the rag and wrestle it, while raising one leg to kick at his fingers. The Thin Man utilized this time to reexamine the flushed face, and rake his knowledge over any insight if this was a normal complexion. Nothing about Mono’s complexion was normal, even for a child. The boy might have resembled the typical child for now, or not. The man in the hat could not say with certainty. The feisty boy still fought the rag, even though he retired the item and let the ruffian clutch the thing in his arms. He had a habit for rassling anything he could get his arms around – plush animals; a sock, his hand when set on a table.

“What are you doing?” he posed. He did not move his other hand from the child’s backside, though he was no longer restraining the boy. To the inquiry, the boy dipped his head down and bit more onto the rag. “It is not alive. Nor is it further harassing you.”

The child pressed further back against his palm and kept his head down. Nodding. A residual wheeze creaked beneath the buzzing from the Thin Man's residual suspicion. The Thin Man crinkled his brows. Was the ailment still complicating the speek?

“Still U̷n̶w̶e̶l̷l̸?” Not expecting any form of noise, the Thin Man scooped the child up and placed him against his collar. As expected, the boy abandoned his battle with the rag in favor of latching onto his shirt. It was quite typical for children to huddle into their little child clusters for warmth during the rest times, but the excessive clinginess persisted to disturb him. It was wrong for the boy, this particular child, to behave in this way. This dependency should have been weaned off him ages back, when the girl abandoned him to his fate.

“This is unbecoming B̴e̷h̵a̶v̶i̵o̸r̸. You cannot be reliant on others. It never E̸n̵d̸s̶ ̶W̷e̶l̷l̷ for you.” The child burbled against his collar. Really.

“Keep.”

“N̸o̵t̶ ̶ F̶o̷r̴e̶v̵e̴r̷. You will T̴i̶r̵e̶  ̴of M̵e̵ and run away. That is what you A̵l̵w̷a̶y̸s̵  ̵D̵o̴."  Following a brief stall, he added, "That is how all children are.”

“No….”

“Y̷e̶s̸,” he fizzed. The boy kept his face pressed into his collar, hiding as the Thin Man peered down to the best of his ability. “I̵t̵ is  ̵W̴h̷a̸t̵ ̵ you A̴r̸e̵. I̵t̵ ̸ is W̵h̶a̵t̵ ̴ you B̴e̷c̷o̷m̶e̶.”

And what would the boy become? That was the pondering query which haunted him the long hours he spent roaming the soddened roads. The boy left to his own devices would become the thing, the creature, the only thing the Thin Man feared. Hated.

The man in the hat.

He sighed, and the child hacked into his shirt.

“T̷h̶e̸ ̶ S̵t̵r̴a̶n̶g̵e̶ ̵ C̶h̶i̸l̶d̴.̴” He hated being the one child that was different. It was cruel that despite all that he fought for and wanted, was thrown aside. “So ̵U̷n̷h̸a̸p̷p̸y̷.̴ ̶M̷i̴s̵e̴r̴a̶b̴l̵e̶.̸ I will never U̶n̷d̷e̴r̵s̶t̷a̶n̷d̶ you, little one.”

The boy that knew not of his fate, of the destiny awaiting him at the end of the hall. Not until the latch clicked, the door handle dropped, and all the secrets he ever had engulfed his entire being. He had felt everything in that short span of time, aged faster than a child of this world aged. Experienced every stage of emotion, felt the burden of loss and regret unlike a child of this world had ever felt. It destroyed the boy he once was.

Lost in his musings, the Thin Man had wandered through the corridors until he was in one of the spare rooms of no interest. It was one room the child spent time scratching around, placing marks all over the lower walls – odd symbols with curves and squiggly lines, a figure of some four legged animal.

“W̵h̴a̷t̶ ̸ D̸i̵d̷ ̶ Y̴o̶u̸ ̷ E̴v̶e̸r̵ ̸ H̴o̷p̷e̷ ̸ T̵o̸ ̵ G̷a̵i̵n̸?̶” The boy did not offer anything, except dig more into his collar. “Nothing to offer to O̶u̸r̸  ̵C̷o̶n̸v̷e̶r̸s̷a̵t̷i̵o̴n̷?̸” Another burbled murmur spurred from the boy. How very enlightening.

He could not help the chuckle. “What was that?” He recoiled when the face reared up at him yelping.

“Not small.”

“O̶h̴  ̸N̵o̶?” The chortle vibrated from him without, prompting another dour glare from the child. “You are.”

“No.”

“You cannot argue with fact.” He was not necessarily being mean, but he had to give the scruffy hair a brush with his finger. “Someday though. That A̷l̶l̸ ̷C̷h̷a̴n̸g̸e̶.̵” The angry scowl on the child melted into one of… he could not say curiosity. It certainly was not concern.

He arched his brow. “What is that face you make?” The boy pressed his check against his shirt and gazed at him. And blinked.

“Sad.”

Not this again. “And why D̶o̸ ̵ Y̸o̸u̷  ̴B̴e̷l̸i̸e̷v̶e̵ I am sad?”

The boy shrugged against his palm. “Have story.”

Ah yes, the story. The unfortunate truth of his fate as the fallen ‘hero’. Though the idea of hero was far detached from the boy’s understanding, there were no villains or saviors in his sordid tale. There was only he and Her, against the terrors that inhabited the world. The children were no more heroes than a crab overcoming a leech. Heros and fallen saviors existed nowhere, survival was the only payoff from vanquishing the latest foe.

“What of T̸h̵i̷s̵ ̷S̶t̸o̷r̸y̵?”

A long and deep breath filled the little body tucked under his hand. The child slipped his gaze down, stared at something beyond the Thin Man’s line of sight, before turning his strange stare back up to him. “Speek make y’child? Hmm?”

Speek. You child. Question.

“Yes. O̴n̸c̵e̶. What of it?”

The boy kept those eyes fixed on him, unwavering. Strange child. Cursed boy. Always hiding his face under hats and masks. He was not hiding now.

“Smol?”

“H̴m̵m̸?̷”

The boy scrunched up his face, probably untying more convoluted inquiries from the depths of his scratchy thoughts.

“R’smol. You n’child?”

He sighed and lifted a finger to sweep the matted hair out of the boy’s eyes. “Y̴e̶s̵.̷ All children are small.” That frustratingly slow blinking persisted.

“Smol.”

What was the boy not getting?

“Yuh?”

It was his turn to reciprocate the slow blinking. “O̶n̶e̶ ̵ T̸i̶m̴e̸.̵ A long -  ̸L̶o̸n̶g̵ time ago.”

Long-long ago. In an era that had since died and reverted to dust. The boy fell and was forgotten, left by the one he cherished. Oh how he mourned the lost friendship, the companionship, the cohabitation with someone that was once his world.

“For happen?”

Ah.

The floor creaked as he shifted his weight. He realized he was swaying ever so slightly. The child’s eyes drooped, but he caught himself and forced alertness back into his stare. Only to have his eyelids dip down once more.

“S̶o̶  ̷M̷u̸c̷h̴.̵”

“Su’much.” The child hummed, and nestled down more into his jacket. “Sum….” A small wheeze and hack popped from the boy, but he smothered it easily enough. “Story.”

The Thin Man hummed for the child. “It is a P̶o̵i̵n̶t̷l̴e̸s̶s̵ story.”

“Poin’ess….”

“It means, it has N̸o̵ ̶ P̶l̴a̴c̷e̴ in this world.” Much like the existence of children. He brushed carefully over the boy’s back and continued humming a melody. It had no rhythm, the tune was flat, but the child’s eyes fluttered shut.

The search for the mysterious irritate was long forgotten. If the child had another violent fit later, he might have an apt opportunity of discovering the source. For now, he meandered into one of the rooms that had nothing but a table with some chairs. No books or pages, or the other odds and ends that enabled him to constantly scribble through the pages of endless nothing to offer erudition or redemption to the husk of a world. Just a dusty table with a tattered table runner. It fancied him to take his place at one chair and lean back by a margin, only to set his heels on the tabletop.

For whatever reason he was still humming off key, to no one in particular. It was dangerous to… he was no longer a child. No more, than the boy cupped in his hands was he.

“Was child,” mumbled the voice. Some time later when he made no acknowledgment, the child shifted under his hand. “Have friend?”

“H̵u̸h̶?̷” The boy nudged his finger with his forehead, but he resisted the urge to glance down. He was not strong enough to meet those eyes so like his own.

“Y’child.” The wriggly thing was easy enough to control, though the squirming did not cease. “Am Mono r’friend. Y’child? When smol.”

“N̸o̸.̴ Never.” That was the blunt response. The only correct reply. “It W̷o̸u̷l̶d̶  ̵N̷o̵t̷ have  ̵W̸o̷r̸k̶e̶d̴ out.”

“Yu'lie.”

“Do not be D̶e̸l̶u̴s̴i̵o̵n̷a̴l̴.̴”

No wonder why S̷h̶e̶ dropped him. Who in this Tower forsaken city could ever tolerate this spiteful splinter.

“What’s y’like?” muttered the voice. “N’child? What y’done?”

Fool child.

“Smol,” he replied, to the boy. “W̴e̴.̶.̴.̸ I was….” The words and stories all slipped away, or never existed in the first place. The boy never existed. It was all a lie. His dreams, the adventure, his friendship with H̴e̷r̶.̷.

“I went on many adventures. I saw such terrible things.” The Thin Man brushed his fingers over the child’s back, trying to recall how the coat felt so heavy on his shoulders. How mighty and fierce he felt with its snapping around his ankles, how it protected him from the sharp flint strikes of rain.

“Trick?” came the muffled voice under his palm.

“Mm. Many tricks. Many.” He tussled the child’s hair. “At times I was very frightened, and did not know if I would wake up. But I was resolute in my mission.”

“Mish-shun.”

“A very important task you undertake.” The Thin Man could feel those eyes burning into him. He zoned out on the warped, tattered ceiling where plaster and wood hung downward. The upper floors ceiling was visible through the gloom, and somewhere a bulb bristled its waning shimmer.

“Am Mono s’mish’un?”

That caused him to falter and turn his gaze down to meet the boy’s. “You?” He was on the verge of laughter, but the eyes were so imploring and uncertain. “Yes,” he choked, on reflex. “You are a very important mission.”

The child turned his head the other way, and pressed is cheek against his jacket. “Have friend. Am Mono keep’yu. Mm?”

The Thin Man worked through his ancient memories, of what togetherness meant when he was a child, with nothing but a soft hand in his own. The world against them him, the dangers endless. Scavenging beside a second pair of eyes, the rasped speek beneath the creak of walls, the chatter of rain. What was a friend, but another threat to bypass. She must have felt the same sentiment. Why else would she condemn him? He would never know. He didn’t care to know.

“I think you would have been a good friend for me,” his voice snagged, and stammered. “I don’t know for how long, but I would have cherished… it would have meant the city to me.” The child hummed against his palm.

“Am prot’ck. Am Mono does. Y’safe.”

“Sure.” The Thin Man reached up with his free hand, and tugged his hat down to shelter his eyes. “Now hush it and recuperate your strength. That was a nasty fit.”

Mono grumbled, but tucked up into his coat. “Not hurt.”

“Shh.” No nonsense argument here. “For a short spell, stay still and rest your head.” And no refute came from the boy. Just a steady finger, tracing the creases in his hand.

“Make story?” came the messy grumble. “Y’am’um Mono? How story?”

It took a dreadful long moment before the Thin Man put together the soft twitter, but when it struck him, the world felt dark and strange. He shut his eyes and tried to recall a long era lost in the miasma of is confinement to the Tower. How long did the roads stretch? Where in the skyline did towering buildings fade? Did they hold up the sky? What hazards lurked in the musty black corridors?

“Two L̶i̶t̶t̶l̶e̸ ̶ B̵o̷y̶s̴,” another sputtering scratch tattered his words. “They crept through a murky room, listening to the creatures pawing at—”

“Was speek? Am Mono. Him?”

The Thin Man paused to regard the question. “One was Mono. We do not remember the other boys name. It was not important.” The child snorted.

“S’portant. Have call. What speek?”

The Thin Man brushed back his hat and glared down at the child, who matched the smoldering frown with one of his own. “Let me continue. Maybe he will remember his name.” For now, that satisfied the child. He turned his face away and shifted around into a more comfortable heap. Or perhaps he was soured by the Thin Man’s disregard for the important, unnamed child.

Regardless, the Thin Man resumed. Softly, he spoke, “They came from a vehicle on a railway track. The unsteady vessel crashed into a wall and splint in two – one of them was pinned. But without losing the other, and risking great harm when a fire spread through the wreckage, they found their way out of the tunnel. This happening made them realize how much they needed the other, and how important together was.”

“Mm. For impor’ant.”

“O̶f̷ ̷C̸o̴u̵r̵s̷e̵.̷” He traced a finger along Mono’s back, working the knotted kinks from the child’s spine. As Mono relaxed further against his jacket, he went on about the grand adventures that the two children shared. The dangers they overcame, and how they learned so much about being more than just travel companions.

It was not quite the togetherness he thought was the most important link he shared with Her. It was bigger than company, impossible to convey in the span of cohabitation. When he thought about these illusions with the boy, it made a sensation so warm and painful swell inside his chest. As if he might have the gall to risk banishment to the Tower ten times over, to certify this child never saw a single solitary chair locked behind a door.

“From then on, they always had each other,” he finished.

Mono had fallen into silent rest forever ago, but it felt critical to his shaken thoughts to reach the end of this journey with that little boy.

Next

[randybutternubber]

Scrolling through the LN ao3 tag is like walking through a minefield because you’ll have like seven pretty standard fan fictions and then all the sudden you get absolutely flashbanged by something TRULY foul (I think you know the sort of content I’m referring to)

This is why I love the hyper-specific tag filtering feature but sometimes something slips through the cracks and all the blood vessels in my eyes pop and then the spiders in the wall start trying to eat the dead skin between my toes.

[hatchet-draws]

Drew some-many- doodles for my Little Nightmares fanfiction: Someone to Play With!

[grim-faux]

GASP

they grew up

I was heavily inspired my the_nerdy_pencil’s (aka ooCatoo) post on Instagram of the two children’s first of school, and also high school days!

[sbocean]

In the Little world of Nightmares, the fight for survival is always present. Where kindness and trust is a rarity, while you forge bonds and friendships, or send it all crumbling down.

This is going to be an Oc submission story. At the end of each chapter each person who submitted an Oc will get to comment on the Oc's next course of action. Such as with dnd you will tell me what you do, and I will describe what happens as a result. The outcome of each action will be decided fairly by me and will depend on the action of other Oc's. When a life and death situation comes up there will be predetermined choices for that retrospective character to select. There are 8 submission slots for children characters, and two for monster characters. Also, one Oc per person.

[dapper-lil-arts]

Perks of writing a deranged multiverse fanfic, you can thrown nearly any kind of scene just for the sake of fun.

So I finally got to address the cuntiest MLP character, Nightmare Rarity AND make it about rarijack lol

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny was...unnerved, which is unusual considering his upbringing as the child of mad scientists obsessed with the undead.

It had been a few weeks since he had moved into Wayne manor after a conflict between batman and his parents, which led to his home and his friends and family being blown up in a lab malfunction. Most of Amity Park was destroyed in the blasts, including Vlad and his mansion.

Usually Danny would be more suspicious of super rich dudes, but the sorrow in Bruce Wayne's eyes as he pleaded to let Danny take him in was genuine and well, Danny didn't exactly have anywhere else to go. Plus, Bruce looked weirdly guilty when danny told him none of this was his fault, which was weird. Jazz was in college and always looked exhausted on video calls, so he didn't want to bother her there.

The part that bothered him most wasn't that there was anything dangerous or bad happening, but rather the opposite.

Danny was used to dodging his home security system when it randomly targeted him. He was used to ghosts popping up out of nowhere to suckerpunch him. He was used to danger.

And now that there was none, he was jumping at shadows.

Things got better when he met Psaro. He was in the process of being either mugged or kidnapped, he wasn't sure, when this angry goth teen with silver hair and ruby eyes literally came in swinging a steel chair. After the beat down and subsequent rescue, Danny offered to buy them some food. Psaro tried to reject the offer until his stomach suddenly growled, making him blush, and Danny dragged the older goth teen to a restaurant.

They've been best friends since. Psaro later introduced him to his friends Rose and Toilen, explaining that they weren't from this world and that Rose was an elf and Toilen was a Teran from a planet called Terrestria. Danny assumed that Psaro was an elf like Rose due to them both having long pointed ears and mostly focused on Toilen thanks to the "other planet" bit.

Meanwhile, the bats have been keeping an eye out on Danny (aka stalking him) and his new, obviously magical friends.

[zorrasucia]

Promptober 27. Nightmares

from @carmenberzattosgf list

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (2k)

Tags: Nightmares, Hurt & Comfort, Smut, Porn with plot, Established Relationship, Bondage, Sub!Carmy, Oral (M Receiving), P in V Sex, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

You walked inside the kitchen of The Bear. The lights were on but it was empty, an eerie silence bouncing back from every surface. You tried the door to the office but it was locked.

"Carmy?" you called, growing more nervous by the minute. "Carm?" you said a little louder.

There was a loud bang coming from inside the walk-in fridge. Your heart started beating fast.

Gathering courage, you walked to the door of the walk-in and knocked twice, gently.

"Carmy?"

You were met with another loud bang, so strong that it made the floor tremble underneath you.

Your common sense told you to leave but some part of you was terrified that whatever was inside could hurt Carmy. You took a deep breath and opened it.

It was darker and much bigger than you remembered. The light from the kitchen let you see a figure hunched over, recoiling from someone or something. You recognized the pristine, white t-shirt and dirty blond hair.

"Carmy, you okay?"

You walked towards him, kneeling by his side, the door shutting behind you.

"Get out," he said, his voice icy.

"Baby, come on, let's talk outside," you said gently.

When Carmy turned towards you, he looked changed - long canine teeth and a feral snarl deforming his face.

"I said get the fuck out!" he screamed at you.

You stood up and took a few steps back, trembling - you didn't know if it was because of the cold, your fear or both. You turned, running to the door but the fridge had become a never-ending hallway and you couldn't reach the exit. You glanced back. Where Carmy had been kneeling now sat a bear, growling, its blue eyes fixed on you.

"Oh, God," you were running out of air and the door wasn't any closer.

You could hear heavy steps behind you, getting faster and closer, the wet breathing of a beast on the nape of your neck.

You reached the door but it was too late. It grabbed you by the back of your shirt. You screamed, trying and failing to get away. Paws were replaced with hands that pulled your hair and pushed you against the metal door. You winced in pain, managing to turn around. It was Carmy again - he and the bear were one and the same, both consumed by rage, foaming at the mouth.

"I told you to get out," he said flatly before slamming you with his paw.

You woke up with a start, breathing hard and shaking.

It was a nightmare, only a nightmare, you repeated over and over. You were alone in your bed. Carmy was probably still at the restaurant and wouldn't come over until tomorrow night.

It was a nightmare.

You thought of calling him but the idea made your stomach churn and your breaths shallow. You weren't scared of him, you were scared of the creature in your dream but the line of separation felt blurry in the dark of the night and half awake. 

It was a nightmare, only a nightmare.

~

"Missed you, baby," Carmy said, putting his arms around you when he met you the following night.

You didn't mean to but you flinched when he touched you.

"You okay?" he asked, his eyebrows arched with worry.

"It's so dumb," you said, covering your face.

"I wanna know," he insisted.

So you told him about your dream, about how scared you were and how some of that fear stayed with you even now when you were awake.

"Fuck," Carmy rubbed the back of his neck. "They told you about when I got trapped inside the walk in, huh?"

"Richie really can paint pictures with words," you said dryly. "It was weeks ago, though. I guess it got mixed up with stress from work or something."

He searched for your gaze, his eyes pleading. "I'd never lay my hands on you."

"I know, Carm," you reached for his hand and rubbed his knuckles gently. "I'm just- I know it wasn't real but it felt like it. Dunno. I need to shake it off. Don't know how though," you shook your head in frustration. "Like, this is nice," you gestured at your joint hands. "It reminds me that this is real, that you're real and I can trust you."

Carmy studied you in the lowlight of the living room.

"It freaks you out when I touch you but it's all good if you reach out?"

You nodded.

"Of all the crazy ideas you've had-" you looked at Carmy, tied up to the bed, half naked and beautiful, "I think this is my favorite."

"I think I have an idea," he said.

"Desperate times," he chuckled nervously.

"I mean, there are more pressing issues in the world than my silly, little nightmare," you reasoned, sitting by his side.

"Don't think I could sleep if I knew you were scared of me touching you," he confessed softly, something vulnerable in his voice.

"It's not- I was scared of the thing in my dream, not you, Carm."

"I know, I know," he replied. "But it was freaking you out. This way you can just touch me until you feel safe again. Well, if this whole thing works."

You nodded. "I'll let you know."

You leaned over and cupped his face, tenderly, caressing the lines of his nose and his mouth. He had his eyes closed, his expression peaceful, it made you melt inside.

"Thank you for trusting me to do this," you said softly.

"Mhmm," he smiled.

You traced lines between the freckles of his neck and chest with your fingernail, imagining constellations, leaving goosebumps behind. Carmy shivered.

"Tickles," he whispered.

"Sorry."

You exhaled, touching the lines of muscle up his arms, his wrists tied up with two scarves. You carded your fingers gently through the hair on his chest and arms. You saw the tattoos you now knew by heart, really saw them, the pieces that had blurred with time. You kissed the white, translucent lines of scars you found along the way.

Every few inches you found softness and flaws, things that made him definitely human and not some cursed, bloodthirsty monster - this was Carmy, your Carmy.

You leaned over to kiss him, slow, tender.

"Feeling better?" he mumbled.

"Yeah," you nuzzled against his cheek, curling your body around his. He was warm.

"We can sleep like this if you want," he offered. And he meant it, you knew. Even if he would probably wake with his arms numb and sore at the same time.

You shook your head, the tip of your nose tickling his face. "I think I'm good, Carm," you said honestly.

"You sure?"

"Positive," you leaned on his chest to look into his eyes properly. "I would like to try something before untying you, though."

"Okay, what is it?" he arched his eyebrows with curiosity.

You blushed. "Are you going to make me say it?"

"Oh!"

"Yeah..."

"Really?" he frowned, a smirk curling his lips.

"You look really nice tied up," you shrugged. "Would you be into that?"

His skin warmed up under your touch. "Baby, I was the one that suggested this."

"Yes. But it wasn't for sex," you bit your lip, slightly embarrassed.

He smiled warmly. "Come here," he beckoned you to kiss him - his tongue eager to meet yours. "You can do anything you want to me."

"Fuck," you whimpered against his lips.

It was a blur, desire taking over and before you knew it you were straddling Carmy's legs, unbuttoning his jeans and taking his cock into your mouth.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, the muscles of his torso straining as your tongue swirled up and down the length of him. You could feel him harden inside your mouth. The view upward was downright sinful, neck arched and veins bulging, his chest rising as he tried to breathe normally.

You let go for a moment, your hand pumping his cock.

"You were so good to me tonight, Carm," you praised. He keened in response and the sound went directly to your pussy, tickling you deliciously. "So patient, so sweet."

"Love you," he panted. "Love you so much. Want you- fuck- want you to feel safe with me."

"I do," you said softly. "I feel safe with you."

You kissed his hips, mouthing down his trail of hair, the flat of your tongue tracing the vein on his cock as you took him again, the salty taste of precum hitting your tongue.

"Fuuuck," he moaned low as you started to bob your head up and down. His arms were taut, fighting against his restraints for the first time. "Wait, fuck, baby, wait a second..."

You stopped and sat up, saliva and precum falling down the corner of your mouth.

"You okay? Did I hurt you?"

"I'm okay," Carmy said, smiling in that relaxed and blissful way he only allowed when he was fucking you. "I'm okay."

"Oh, good," you let out an exhale of relief, your voice sweet. Your hand went back to holding his cock idly, just caressing. "What do you need, baby?"

"Want to be inside you," he said simply. "Please."

You smiled. "Of course."

Just as quickly as before, blind with lust, you started rummaging for condoms and lining up his cock with your pussy.

"Eyes on me," he cooed and you obliged.

There was nothing quite like looking at his dilated pupils as you took him completely. This time he closed his eyes first though, overwhelmed with pleasure as you sank on his cock. He groaned, his hands holding tight to the bedframe, knuckles white.

"Good?" you teased when he finally opened his eyes.

"We're definitely buying handcuffs after this," he managed, voice low and gravelly.

You wouldn't have expected Carmy to want to be tied up but looking at him now, it made sense in a convoluted way - rolling his eyes with the bliss of letting go of control for a fucking minute. Or maybe it was still the dream logic in your brain - an injured bear settling when someone he trusted cared for him.

You leaned to touch his face. "You could have said something. We could have tried this ages ago."

He smiled shyly. "We're doing it now. It's okay," he nodded, shifting lightly, telling you it was fine to move.

You set a gentle pace, undulating instead of frantic now that his hands couldn't help you bounce on his cock. You could feel every inch of his cock, the head hitting just right as you leaned forward and back, taking satisfaction in the way Carmy's mouth fell open as he gasped for breath.

"Touch yourself," he pleaded. "Want to see you."

You squeezed your breast with one hand and rubbed your clit with the other, eyes fixed on Carmy, watching intently once your pussy clenched around him. He pulled hard on the ties, the only sounds that came from him were moans, your name, and 'fuck'.

"Carmy. I think I'm gonna- Oh, my God!" you whined, the sight in front of you enough to make you cum.

He nodded, eager, then planted his feet on the mattress and thrust into you, making you cry with pleasure. He fucked you, prolonging your orgasm until he caught up, growling as he reached his peak, tears rolling down the corners of his eyes.

You fell on his chest, exhausted, shaking with his heavy breaths and yours.

"I'll untie you in a second," you mumbled, kissing his sweaty skin, gathering strength.

"Mhmm," he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his exhale ruffling your hair.

Eventually, you sat up, undoing the knots you had made, soothing Carmy's wrists with kisses, massaging the length of his arms, and whispering 'thank you' and 'you were so good' and 'I love you'.

You settled in bed, his arms around you, feeling safe and at home.

[ancha-aus]

Double Trouble... switched?

A tiny little thing for a lovely artist who's comics and art brings me much joy and inspiration.

Inspired by the lovely: @somegrumpynerd

And specifically this post, and this comic :3

Have fun :D

Warning, Very unedited and just me having fun ;P

(also most work was actually finding the posts to make the links work now enjoy this fanfic of which I will admit it took a few hours but I will not tell you how many words as I got no idea. Because I wrote the whole thing on tumblr and got no word counter here. Enjoy :D)

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dream knew something was wrong the moment he woke up.

His magic... it was being prickled by something. Over and over and over. It felt a bit like the sting of negativity but different.

That can't be right.

Drema struggled to full awareness as his mind tried to think of the reason why he felt the way he did.

Normally he only felt these type of prinkles and pain when he was near a lot of negativity but it had to be a lot a lot. As in, Nightmare using his own aura to fight him a lot.

But as he used his own magic of empathy he only felt a soft contentment and easy happiness in the air.

Had... Had the fight with Nightmare have afteraffects after all?!

They last fight, the one of the day before, had left Dream drained and tired. Nightmare and him had been fighting and Dream had tried to use his aura to get Nightmare to stay still and listen to him. Dream hadn't expected Nightmare to use his own magic aura. More surprising had been the fact that Nightmare's aura didn't clash with his own but instead reached him. It had burned and as Dream had said, he felt drained afterwards.

Dream hadn't thought too much off it. Especially as Nightmare had seemed exhausted and confused by it as well and he had quickly retreated afterwards.

But maybe Dream had been wrong.

Why else would he still feel this discomfort when there was nothing but positivity around him?

Dream groans as he finally manages to sit up in the very soft bed with many many pillows. Weird, Dream didn't have this many pillows on his bed and neither does Blue. Maybe Ink painted some more for them? Thoguth Ink rarely joined in on their sleepovers and Dream can't remember seeing Ink the day before.

Worse is that he feels disbalanced. Nothing feels right at the moment and the discomfort is making him cranky. He should just find Blue. Blue always makes everything better and has great ideas on what to try.

Yes, his best friend will help.

Dream opens his sockets only to stare in shock.

This... is not his room.

It isn't any room he recognizes.

It is a large beautiful place with a large, very large, bed with way too many pillows and soft blankets. There is a large bookcase just filled with books. The curtains are dark and shut. Next to him is a tiny alarm clock which reads that it is still very early in the morning.

Something else about his vision is off but Dream can't quite place it. Something that should be obvious but he can't make sense of it. He turns to the side and reaches for the bed only to freeze.

That is corruption. On his hand. And arm.

Dream feels himself start to panic as his soul pulses fast. Oh no. Oh no. What happened?! Calm down. Calm down-

Then he sees one of those corruption tentacles nad Dream flinches away, only to completely loose his balance and fall over sideways with a quiet yelp.

He lays frozen but can't feel any curiosity or hear anyone react.

He is starting to have an idea where he is and he isn't sure how to feel about this.

He slowly crawls to the side of the bed, only to keep misjudging the distance and he thinks he lost his depth perception which isn't good news.

He manages to get out of bed and only slightly panics at the sight of his own legs covered in corruption. Are it his own legs even?!

Dream pushes himself upright only almost fall over and he has to grab one of the poles of the large four poster bed to catch himself. He looks over his shoulder and is confronted with the sight of four tentacles shifting and idling behind him, all seemingly coming from his own back.

Dream takes a few unsteady steps and softly curses the way this feels. How does Nightmare DEAL with his tentacles?! How does he deal with the extra weight of it on his spine?! Dream already feels uncomfortable.

Dream manages to get to one of the two doors and opens it. He lets out a sigh of relieve when sees the bathroom. He flicks on the ligth in the room and manages to get to the mirror.

There in the mirror stands Nightmare. Staring at him in absolute shock.

Dream... Is in Nightmare's body.

Which means.

He is not at home.

Dream is in Nightmare's home.

-------

Nightmare tries to walk wiht confidence but it still takes effort to not overbalance for his lacking extra limbs.

When he woke up feeling comfortable and energised he had immediantly panic. He normally only felt that after they managed to make an universe fall fully into negativity and shift the balance.

Feeling that at home meant his boys felt unhappy and miserable and he would not have that.

Imagion his surprise when he sat up only to be in a completely different room and after a glance outside to realise he was in the Omega Timeline.

The one place he never had managed to get somekind of access too.

Nightmare wanted out right now because it didn't take a genius to figure out what happened.

Dream's and his magic had interacted strangly and connected with each other. Both had felt drained. Now Nightmare was in Dream's body.

Meaning, Dream was most likely in Nightmare's body. Meaning Dream was in Nightmare's hideout with his boys.

Nightmare didn't have time to panic or to have a crisis. He needed to somehow get to his own body and make them switch back. His minions needed constant supervision and management. Nightmare only just got Dust to agree to set an alarm clock and Horror had been improving with overeating.

He needed to get to them.

Which meant.

Be the perfect Dream so no one would think something was wrong and enable him to sneak out and search for himself.

This is starting to get annoying.

Nightmare had gotten dressed in Dream's clothes and got ready to leave.

Only for Blue to have shown up.

Which is what brought Nightmare to were he was now. Trying and struggling to maintain a facade he hadn't had time to prepare.

"You sure you are okay Dream?" Blue keeps staring at him as if he expects Nightmare to just spill the beans.

Wait. Does Dream do that? Does Dream just tell Blue everything? Probably right? But what do they normally talk about?

Nightmare is honestly unsure what it is that is between his brother and Blue. Nightmare knows that Blue and Dream are always together and Dream seems rather protective about Blue.

Nightmare realises he is taking too long to answer and puffs up his chest and speaks, being thankful for the small amount of luck there is for him in this multiverse that the voice he speaks with still sounds like Dream "Of course I am alright! It is a wonderful day and I want to spend it heloing others!" Dream and his ever need to please people and be liked.

Blue continues to grin at him, one brow slightly raised "Wowie! you are in a good mood today! Happy to hear you seem alright after the fight from yesterday."

Nightmare nods "But of course! Now! Lets get to work." and he starts walking. Only slightly falling fore over as he tries to balance for soemthign that isn't there.

"Dream!" Blue is by his side and tries to help him upright. The worry around him is slightly surprising.

Nightmare holds up a hand as he tries, and succeeds to steady himself. Old memories return of how to walk without his tendrils. He got this. "I am fine. Just a slight misstep... shall we?" Wait, how does Dream speak anyone? All the interactions Nightmare can remember were from them in battle. Which Ngihtmare knows is not a good reference for when you speak casually with others. The last interactions that Nightmare had with Dream wihtout fighting were... were from back at the tree... when both had been 6 and before their magical growth.

...

Ngihtmare doubts Dream still acts as his six year old self, even if he sometimes seems just as naiev to the world.

Blue frowns at him "If you are sure. You sure you want to go out already?"

Nightmare nods "But of course!"

Blue gives him another grin "Well. If you are sure. Let's go!"

----------------

Dream doesn't know what to do or say.

What do you say to your enemies when you are suddenly in their boss's body, who happens to be your twin. like. How do you decide what to say?

Dream tries to remain quiet and just watch. That is probabyl what Ngihtmare does right? Just watch and glare and tell them to not bother him?

Their happiness is burning him. That he has realised.

Dream had wanted to tell them he is going to take a moment for himself but then second guessed himself. How much would Nightmare tell them? Would he tell them that their happiness burns him? Would he be honest? Would he even tell them? Or would he just stand up and leave? Were those four expecting him to give them orders? To tell them what to do? Or would a simple 'go do your work' do?

Drema had never realised that positivity burned his brother this badly.

Did... did that mean that being around Dream burned him as well? That going near him at all in battle was as if he was being burned?

Dream knows his aura can get... a lot. but... He never considered... He never thought...

Only extreme negativity hurt Dream and all positivity energised and powered him...

If low levels of positivity already hurt his brother... would only extreme levels of negativity energise him? Would only extreme levels feed him?

Was... was Nightmare attacking AUs not as much an attack on the multiverse but more of a way to feed himself? To keep himself alive?

Dream just... didn't know.

"Boss! boss! what do you think? Awesome right!"

Dream eneds a moment to realise Killer is talking to him. Dream looks over and freezes at the knife Killer is tapping between his phalanges with a concerning speed.

Dream sits there frozen before panic overtakes his soul "What do you think you are doing?! Stop that right now before you hurt yourself!" only to realise that he spoke form panic and worry. Oh no he totally messed up! Dream wasn't thinking and-

Killer pouts but lays the knife down. Horror snorts "Told you boss would be unimpressed and mad at you for practising that."

Killer mutters something about it being cool and Nightmare just being a worrywart.

Dream blinks. Excuse but Nightmare is a what now?

Cross looks at him "What is the schedule for today boss?"

Killer snorts and copies the sentence at a softer volume but in a sillier voice.

Dream can't imagine that would be allowed but before he can even think of a fitting reaction or answer one of Nightmare's tentacles moves over to Killer's skull and gives him a soft tap.

Dream feels mortified. What do you mean those tendrils just... do that?! Dream hadn't even thought or considered that! Wait... Was... Was the corruption still negativity and so technically Nightmare... Was it like a muscle memory and so instinct for his body to do that? That implies that Nightmare has done that a lot.

Killer pouts more and crosses his arms befroe he mumbles "Fine fine. I get it. I get it. Sorry Crossy."

Crossy beams and the happiness stings Dream as Cross answers "Apology accepted!" then Cross looks at him with bright sockets "But what will we do today boss?"

Dream glances around the room as he tries to think of something that would fit. He has no idea what Nightmare does when he isn't out fighting him. Dream remembers the books in Ngihtmare's bedroom but Dream doesn't want to lock himself in there. He will go insane and just not know what to do. He needs an excuse to search around the castle. Something that will fit with their vision of Nightmare.

"I... need to... research a few things for our next... raid." Dream tries to desperately remember what Nightmare sounded like and which words he used. Dream thinks his lucky stars that Nightmare's body still sounds like Nightmare.

Cross nods "okay! Need our help with anything?"

Dream slowly shakes his skull as he tries to follow their emotions to see if he is managing to sell this. "No. I should have what I need." Okay, good so far, now how to say he will get them if he needs help. euh... "If I have need... of you. I know where to find you." That should work... right?

Killer nods as he is already out of the room and gone with a shout "Going to the cats!"

What does he mean CATS?!

Cross nods "Okay! in your office?"

office? office! An office will no doubt have information that will hopefully help Dream. Dream nods as anwer and Cross seems to accept it before he goes around grabbing the plates.

Horror asks him if he wants lunch together or brought up and Dream can feel the stress rise. damnit why are these four so focussed on Nightmare? They turn to him for everything! It makes Dream miss Blue. Blue knows what to do when and helps him more than anything.

Dream ends up saying together. Seeing as they straight up called and pulled him over for breakfast that is probably the go to. Horror seems pleased by this and nods as he starts cleaning the food in a careful manner.

Dust has just been staring at him with a frown on his face.

Dream stares back and feels the need to look away but Nightmare wouldn't look away. Dream waits and waits.

Dust huffs before leaving wihtout much of a word. Dream will take that as a win.

Dream leaves the kitchen and sees Dust disappear into another room, Dream can hear the sounds of a tv coming from there and will assume Killer is in there.

Okay... Now...

Where the hell is everything? He has no idea what the layout is of this place and it was pure luck he even found the staircase that morning to begin with.

He makes his way back to the staircase and follows it up. He makes sure he isn't watched or followed before starting to silently open doors to check what is behind each one.

Why did his brother have to be dramatic and get a castle?!

--------------

Nightmare hates this.

His cheeks are starting to hurt from the constant smiling. It is emotionally and mentally exhausting to be happy all the time. No one leaves him alone and everyone seems to have something they very pressingly need Dream's help for.

Which. Meant you. Are not important things!!

Dream needs a better work/home balance and learn to say no.

Nightmare can't even just return to the house that is, probably, Dream's and just hide for a moment because Blue has been by his side the whole time.

Nightmare will admit he is starting to get why Dream likes Blue so much adn seems so protective of him. Blue is a beacon of positive energy and motivation. Blue also seems happy to help Dream with anything and everything.

Honestly at this point Blue is the only reason why Ngihtmare hasn't started losing his mind at Dream just yet.

Everyone around him. the whole time. noise or people and their emotions. the pressure of everyone looking at him and trying to get his help. The amount of people trying to just stand next to him and soak up some of that positive aura is disgusting.

Nightmare has half the mind to kidnape his twin just to make sure that he knows he can actually say 'No' and tell people to piss off because it is starting to get concerning.

Nightmare hasn't had the impulse to throw this many people through windows in a while.

One more person from somekind of universe runs up to him "Dream Dream! I need your help!"

Nightmare has to take a very deep breath as he tries to control his temper. easy and calm. easy and calm. He manages to pull the smile back full force and turns to them "But of course! Happy to help. What do you need help with?"

The person smiles "Well! I wanted to do my grocerries but I ended up not going because I was watching this movie and it was jsut so good! Anyway. Would you mind doing my grocerries for me?"

Deep breaths Nightmare. Deep breaths.

The person continues on "The next part just started and I also really want to see that but by the time that one finishes the store will be closed!"

Deep. Breaths.

They continue the smile "And obviously I will pay you back later but-"

"No."

they blink. Nightmare stares back.

They frown "Waht? Why not?"

Nightmare honestly tries to keep it in but why would he? This is an idiot and they deserve to know "Because this is a result of your own neglect of your responsibilities and I don't see why it would then be up to me to fix this. Especially as you yourself still have the chance to do it yourself. But instead you are trying to use me and get an easy out. Not only that but you are also asking me to pay for this?"

The slowly cross their arms "You enver minded before..."

Anger. Rage. Nightmare manages to just stare "Well I mind now. Do it yourself. If you are adult enough to live on your own wihtout supervision you should be able to take care of yourself." Nightmare turns and walks away.

The person is enraged at him and Nightmare feels very smug about it. The person shouts after him "You are being a real asshole there Dream! And very selfish!"

Ngihtmare just keeps walking. don't commit murder in Dream's body. that is a very sure way to get others to notice you are not him.

Blue still walks with him and Nightmare glares "What?"

Blue blinks and tilts his skull "I am just happy you are finally starting to take my advice to not help everyone with everything. You gotta limit yourself or get burned out." Blue stops him and stares at him worried "Are you finally ready to tell me what is wrong Dream? I am worried about you..."

Nightmare considers what to say before sighing "I need a break." weak. Nightmare just, can't handle this. The constant demands and people asking him to do things. It is different with his boys. the real happiness they feel for him may sting slightly but it is real. The happiness of these people. It just isn't truly on that same level. There is no actual affection or care or even understanding behind it. It is about possession and demand and feeling like they earned it.

While they earned nothing.

How does Dream deal with them?

Blue nods "Yeah. Lets go to my place. People are less likely to bother you there. and If anyone asks I will just tell them you are sick."

Nightmare stares at Blue "I don't get sick. I can't get sick."

Blue snorts "Dream. The only three people in the whole multiverse that know that are, you, your twin, and me. If anyone asks we tell them you are sick." and he grins.

Ngihtmare stares at Blue for a moment "You are the only being in the multiverse with a functioning brain."

Blue snorts and laughs "Nightmare will be happy to hear you say that Dream." and he grins widely.

Nightmare snorts himself, a little inside joke just for him, "I know what I said."

They manage to find Core for a ride. Ngihtmare is relieved by that as he hasn't quite figured out how Dream makes portals just yet. Luckily Blue had decided for him that they would catch a ride instead of trying one themselves.

-----------

Dream reads through another report on the changes and shifts in the balance between positivity and negativity. another one that Dream had thought had been an attack agaisnt the multiverse but instead this report spoke about the high positivity levels making the universe unstable and them having to shift it.

The report speaks of a mild success and mentions a message to Error that this universe could be skipped for destruction for a while as they had managed to make it stable enough to last it a bit longer.

So many reports. So many universe which had been unbalanced.

Compared to all the reports Drema had read until now only about 10% spoke about getting higher negativity levels for Nightmare or getting supplies in a raid.

Everything else? All about universes that needed rebalancing and a shift in the right direction to keep them stable.

Dream leans back in the chair and yelps as the tendrils ache. He looks up adn groans as he sees the tentacles once again completely braided together. He doesn't want to have to try to undo it again and-

"Sup Boss!"

Oh are you kidding him?!

Dream had thought the people in the Omega timeline could be pushy or clingy. But it is nothing on these four. They just. Keep showing up!

It is like they are taking shifts! Dream manages to get one out and a new one will show up within 15 minutes.

Dream sighs and looks up "Waht do you want this time you. you..." you... you... Dream doesn't want to be mean. But Ngihtmare probably insults them... right? "Worms."

Cross's whole face turns sad and worried "Worms?" Oh Dream feels so bad about this. Oh no he looks so sad and hurt and why did Dream say that?

Killer however grins widely "worms! new nickname lets go!" he grins widely

Horror just looks at him with a raised brow "You okay boss?"

Dream feels himself get anxious as he tries to channel some stern face but he is unsure how well he is managing "what is it?"

Cross just keeps looking down at the floor with a sad expression as he mutters the word 'worms' to himself.

Horror looks back "Oh Killer pushed Dust down the stairs."

Drema blinks before looking at Killer "You did what?!"

Killer grins widely as he throws out his arms "I would never!"

A second later a very angry Dust shows up "He so did! The asshole pushed me!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not times infinity! Hah! I win!"

Dust glares and tries to tackle Killer but Dream, or lets be real Nightmare's tentacles, stop him and catch Dust mid air.

Dream takes a few breaths but he gives up "No pushing each other down the stairs! I can't even believe i need to say this!"

Horror speaks up "Again."

Dream feels himself stand up straighter "Again?!" luckily all of them seem to not hear the question in his outraged cry as Killer nods with a pout and Dust just huffs.

It is slightly concerning how unbother Dust looks by being up in onf of those tentacles.

Dream rubs his face as he tries to keep his spinning thoughts calm "I am going to be quick about it. I want all four of you to behave for ten minutes so I can look through my reports and figure out where to go to next!"

His brother had so many reports. If Dream could find some positive universe and spread a tiny bit of negativity then Nightmare, in Dream's own body, would feel that and come to Dream and then Dream can try to get them to switch back.

Silence answers him and he looks up to see all four of the gang look at him and nod. Dream waits for a moment before nodding himself "Good!" He has to focus on the tentacle and imagines it putting Dust down before it actually listens. The tendril seems unwilling to let Dust go.

Dream takes a deep sigh and sits back at Nightmare's desk as he starts reading through reports. He looks back up only to see all four of the gang relaxing around him and Nightmare's desk.

Dream rubs his face. considers going against it before just going wiht the flow. Fine! if they want to watch him read reports so be it! Dream turns back to the many reports as he tries to figure out which place would be best. By the stars Nightmare has so much information and he straight up has a whole catagory on different universes and what key differences are and how to spot these when first entering an universe.

There is just so much knowledge and understanding about all of these universe. Nightmare even took time ot learn which universes are most likely to interact. to cross over. or to even be able to hold a stable connection to serve as trading route.

Dream looks up and spots that those stupid tentacles had moves again! Each of them holds one of the four gang members and Dream is trying to think on how to put them back down.

Then he sees all four of them... asleep. peacefully asleep as they lay either rolled up in the tentacle or seem to hug them in their sleep.

Dream stares for a moment and wonders just how often this happens for that to be the natural reaction before he turns back to the reports. the answer has to be in these.

----------

Nightmare feels the spike of negativity as soon as it happens. It si fear from somewhere in the multiverse and he sits up straight.

Blue looks over worried "Dream?"

Nightmare knows it within a second with absolute certainty "My brother." it is dream. Dream has entered an universe and is... causing fear?

Maybe a trap. Or... a beacon.

Blue frowns at him "Are you sure you are ready for this Dream? I don't think you are... fully rested yet."

Nightmare is already up and nods "I am sure." Now the hard part. He focusses on the magic so much like his own but different. the only thing that is avaiable to him is Dream's magic and it will have to do. He focusses on the positivity and wills it to open a connection to where he feels the spike of negativity.

A portal opens before them.

Blue nods as he grabs his hammer "Let's go."

They step through together and Nightmare looks around. He is quick to spot himself.

Nightmare glares as he crouches low before he is off like a bullet right at his own body. The shock on his own face is satisfying.

More satisfying is tackling himself as he and Dream tumble down the sloop into the overgrowth behind it.

Dream yelps and tries to retaliate but Nightmare knows his own body and his own limits. Nightmare is quick to get Dream in a headlock and hisses "Give me back my body."

Dream groans "I am trying! Let go so we can figure this out before they find us!"

Nightmare frowns and waits for just a moment to see if they are followed. He feels some slight confusion and worry from everyone else but there seems to be a bit of a standoff.

Nightmare sighs and lets go of Dream "Quickly then."

Dream huffs as he gets up only to stagger as Ngihtmare sees his tendrils flex. Nightmare snorts "Haven't figured out how to keep them still yet?"

Dream glares at Ngihtmare wiht his own face "Shut up. Just tell me you have na idea how to switch us back."

Nightmare sighs "Obviously we tried to recreate what happened in our last fight." Nightmare focusses and calls forth his, Dream's? this is getting confusing, aura.

Dream hisses slightly, no doubt feeling the burn, before nodding and quickly doing the same.

Both hold out a hand and inch their aura's around each's other's aura and towards the other twin.

Nightmare feels his own magic reach him and it feels like a blast of cool air on a summer day. He lets himself follow it and-

His body burns by the positivity right before him and he jumps back. His tendrils helping Ngihtmare move back and away from Dream.

Dream lets out a loud sigh of relieve as he lets himself sink to his knees "Oh that feels so much better..."

Nightmare nods as he flexes a tendril "I agree."

A moment of silence and peace between the two as neither makes the move to attack first.

Dream speaks up first "I... I never realised how... how much just tiny bits of positivity hurt..."

Nightmare shurgs "You get used to it. and sometimes it is better to feel the sting than the alternative."

Dream nods as he shoots Nightmare a smile.

Nightmare frowns "You can say no."

Dream blinks "Excuse me?"

Nightmare sighs "You should say no sometimes. It is unhealthy to keep giving everything you have to everyone. especially if they don't actually need help or are even thankful or grateful for it." Nightmare shoots his brother an unimpressed look "Learn to manage your work/home life."

Dream blinks before laughing and shooting him a grin "You sound like Blue."

Nightmare nods "You should listen to him more then."

Another moment of peace before both their groups get to them. Neither feel much for fighting and both call for a retreat very quickly.

Both have a lot to think about anyways.

---------

"Wait?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU AND YOUR TWIN HAD BEEN SWITCHED?! THAT EXPLAINS SO MUCH!"

[primalmagic]

when horror movies become therapy

it's been a year after the webtoon's final events, and the gang still can't watch real horror movies.

OR a sbg future au consisting purely of fluff, sleepovers, and, well, horror movies.

—

You would think, that one year later, things would have settled down. That everyone would be trying to get their lives back together, figure things out, and leave the past far, far, behind them.

The truth could not be farther from that.

The six of them have huddled together on Ashlyn's slightly bouncy couch, watching a crappy horror movie that was way too loud and way too flashy.

Watching horror movies had become a tradition between them, like a "take that" to everything they'd been through. It was a slow climb, sure, but it was something to do, and it made them all feel a little bit accomplished. Not being scared of another movie felt like giving a middle finger to the horror movie they lived through- almost like a step towards being... normal again.

Plus, they got to do it together.

"Someday," Taylor mutters, "We'll have the guts to go and watch a real horror film without freaking out."

Aiden snorts, shifting on the couch to avoid being squished between Tyler and Ashlyn. "Please, you wouldn't last ten seconds in an actual movie theatre."

She flicks him in the shoulder and sighs in pretend exasperation, "Please, you didn't last ten seconds in an actual movie theatre." She retorts, raising her eyebrows.

Aiden looks away, slightly red and embarrassed, "That was like, three months ago! And it was scary, okay? The ghoul thing looked like a phantom. There's no way you weren't scared too."

She can't deny that she'd also been freaking out, but Aiden's vocal reaction had made the entire group laugh for hours. He'd gotten up on his chair and screamed curses at the theatre screen, then spider-jumped two rows down and bounced outside. No, literally, he was practically hopping, flailing his arms and running out the door like an Olympic sprinter. He denies it, for some reason, justifying it with a flick of his hand and an insistence of it being only for the dramatics.

"Never said we weren't scared," Ashlyn blurts, grabbing a handful of sweet-and-salty popcorn out of an oddly geometrically decorated bowl, "Just sayin' that you didn't need to run out like Logan did when we first met him."

Logan squawks indignantly, "I did not run when I first met you!" He gets up to snatch some popcorn from Ashlyn's bowl, and makes an unpleasant face when he pops one into his mouth. "God, this is like if table salt and caramel had a baby, and then left it alone in a cornfield for a century."

"It's delicious," Ashlyn frowns, "You're taste buds are just deformed."

"I-"

"Guys," Tyler groans, "Can we just watch the fucking movie?"

Aiden leans over to ruffle his hair, causing Tyler to squeak and try to move away. "Aw, poor Tyler," He snickers, "I think he's enjoying the movie. We should all be quiet and let him watch it, then."

"I'm not!" He protests, because the film is terrible and it would be incredibly embarrassing to enjoy it, "I just want you guys to shut up."

Taylor frowns, "No you don't," She declares, definitively.

He groans, "Either you guys watch the movie and shut up, or you turn off the movie and complain about disfigured salt babies for hours. There is no in-between."

Ben types something on his iPad and raises it for the rest to see, Both, please, and thank you. He smirks slightly, clearly proud of pissing Tyler off.

He groans, "You guys are exhausting, I'm leaving. I have to get to practice early tomorrow anyway."

"No!" Aiden screams, launching himself at the tired boy, "You are not allowed to leave, buddy. You are being held hostage by the Phantom Busters, please do not rebel in any form or way."

"I... plead the fifth?" He blinks, knowing that there isn't any way out of this.

"We're having a sleepover," Logan declares, "No negotiations necessary. Or allowed."

Tyler rolls his eyes, but his irritated persona is broken when he smiles, "Yeah, sure, fine, whatever."

Ashlyn grabs another handful of popcorn, "You know, you do have to ask the person whose house it is if you want to have a sleepover, right?"

"Nope," Aiden shrugs, "But I asked your mom already."

She snorts, throwing a piece of popcorn at him, "When the hell did you do that?"

It lands in Taylor's hair, and she swats it off quickly.

"Like, right before we started the movie? You just didn't see me 'cause I'm a fucking ninja," He finger-guns her and swirls around, "Now, if you will excuse me, I must notify my parents that they are free of another morning with me."

The movie has stopped playing, and when Ashlyn finally notices, she furrows her eyebrows, "When the hell did the movie turn off?"

Ben waves the remote and throws it to Aiden, who just put his phone down.

"It's been confisticated," Aiden declares, punching his hand in the air like he's holding a gold medal instead of a TV remote.

Logan sighs, "Confiscated," he corrects.

"That's what I fucking said!"

"Whatever," Taylor waves him off, "We can finish the movie tomorrow. You guys want to play charades?"

"Can I be a clown?"

She sighs, "It doesn't work like tha-"

"Don't worry, Aiden, you don't need to pretend," Tyler grins, then ducks away from the popcorn kernel Aiden chucks at him.

"I hate you," He snaps back, with no heat behind his words.

"Ditto," He replies, still basking in the warmth of Aiden's rage.

The blonde calms down rather quickly, or at least he hides his anger as fast as possible. "You know what, thank you. I am a wonderful clown and as I stand here today, I demand justice for all the clowns in the world! You have wronged them, Sir Tyler of the Hernandez." He bows dramatically.

Taylor wheezes, "I need to get that printed on a T-shirt, oh my god."

Aiden nods rapidly, "Oh my god, absolutely, we need matching T-shirts and like, earrings."

You don't even have your ears pierced. Ben types, sharing an amused glance with Logan.

"What about the clip-on things? We could totally get that!!"

Tyler flops back onto the couch, nearly knocking into Logan, who pushes him away lightly. "Aiden, you have too much energy right now, and it's almost midnight. Can we sleep now?"

Aiden looks at him like he's insane, "Who goes to sleep during a sleepover?"

"Me. Good night, Aiden," Tyler smiles, amused.

"Fine," He grumbles, "Let's get the sleeping bags out."

The fact that they all had sleeping bags at Ashlyn's house only proved that they had slept over way too many times to count. Not that she minded though, it was nice having people around, and now that she was comfortable with them, it was almost relaxing.

Sure, it got tiring sometimes, but it was a small price to pay.

Besides, without them, who else would she watch horror movies with?

[grim-faux]

its so rare when I get comments from new readers on TuNe The TRanSMiSsion, but when I do it's usually so aweing and uplifting. I always appreciate hearing about stuff people enjoyed or what made them feel the thing, especially when I strive for emersion into this terrible world where children survive by the skin of their teeth.

And of course continuing adventures with Mono and his Thin Man. The most important aspect of these stories.

Thank you all readers who like, comment, share, read, checking in. I always hope my story continues to intrigue and bring you back for more, and I still aim to find new themes and concepts to haul in to make the adventures fresh.

[ang3lofdivinity]

๑‧˚₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹๑‧˚₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹๑

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐲

Yan!Andrew x Fem!reader : ❝𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧❞

(Semi)Yan!Andrew x Fem!Sociopath!reader : ❝𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧❞

? x GN!Reader : 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐝𝐞 / 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐝𝐞

Others pending..

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬

Mono x Marionette!GN!Reader (to be updated better) : 𓁹「 Consider that the strings attached 」𓁹

Others Pending..

๋࣭ ｡₊☾ ⊹⋆｡ﾟ⭒ ࣪ ๋⭑

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭

Riley Andersen + Gn!Reader : “ 𝖨𝖽𝗒𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖼 ”

🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧₊ ⊹ .

𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤

Pending…

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

Pending..

✩♬ ₊. ☎︎ ⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥

Alastor x Fallen Angel!GN!Reader : 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢

Alastor x Reader : Fonz Pond

Hazbin Hotel (some Overlords and Characters at the hotel only) x Acheron!Reader :

Others Pending…

[grim-faux]

lookat them kids. Still out there runnin wild

Here are some sketches for the fanfic The Seven Year Nightmare.

[fanfoolishness]

Visitation

Hunter has a conversation with a visitor. Set shortly after Plan 99. Grief, emotional whump, sleep deprivation, Hunter + Wrecker feels, Hunter + Tech feels. ~1400 words. (also omg I'm writing again yaaaay)

---

“You gotta sleep,” Wrecker mumbled for the eighth time.

Hunter shrugged him off with a glower and a scowl, his brows furrowing deeply. Just because Wrecker was right didn’t make his words any less aggravating. “I’ll sleep when there’s time,” Hunter snapped. “Leave it alone, Wreck.”

They had to keep going. The trace they were running was the first one that hadn’t come up as a total dead end. There were clues here that could point the way to Omega if they were just smart enough to figure them out and piece together Hemlock’s trail. He didn’t dare sleep on that.

Wrecker rubbed his eyes, then yawned so powerfully Hunter could hear the cracking in the joints of his jaw. “You’re no good wiped out. Neither ‘m I.”

”We’ll be fine. We’re close to something. I can tell.”

”I wanna find her too. But —“ Wrecker hesitated, worry clear in the set of his face. The muscles in his throat worked in a gulp. “Nah. Forget it.”

”What?” Hunter said, a warning note creeping into his voice. 

Wrecker waved a hand. “It’s nothing.” He got to his feet, groaning as he stood for the first time in hours. “More caf?”

”Yeah.”

“I’ll get it.”

---

The last of the caf had long since cooled, its bitter odor turning more acrid as it chilled. Hunter slugged down the dregs anyway, grimacing at the foul taste. 

Wrecker had tried to stay awake, Hunter had to give him that. But now he was hunched over the console on his folded arms, snoring quietly.

Hunter let him do it. It made sense that Wrecker would need the extra rest, since he needed to heal up after their last scrap. But Hunter couldn’t afford the same luxury, not for himself. He had to keep working.

Hunter focused as hard as he could, his head aching with the effort. He kept running over the coordinates on Tech’s datapad, vision blurring, fingertips flinching with an imperceptible frisson every time he tapped or typed or swiped.

This was Tech’s.

He shouldn’t be touching it. They’d all learned that lesson years ago. 

Hunter knew he might mess it up. Tech always had the specs set just how he liked them --

“Put that down,” Tech said from behind him. By the timbre of his voice, his annoyance level was mild, verging on moderate; there was a hint of fondness overlaid with a familiar steely tone. Tech wasn’t too irritated, but he’d get there if Hunter didn’t listen to him soon. 

Hunter stifled a chuckle, then blinked, his breath catching in his throat. He turned around slowly, his heart racing.

“You’re not -- you shouldn’t be here,” Hunter said stupidly.

Tech raised his eyebrows enough for them to arc above his goggles. “I find that rude,” he said.

“Don’t,” Hunter whispered. “You’re dead. We saw you fall.”

“Details,” Tech said, shrugging. “There’s still work to do, isn’t there? Therefore I am here.” He leaned back in the pilot’s chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “You do not look well, Hunter. Tell me, are you sleeping?”

“There isn’t time.” He shook his head, willing the apparition to leave. “We have to find Omega before Hemlock hurts her.” His mind spun with awful specters, imagining the worst tests of the Kaminoans and multiplying their pain into agony of the highest order. Omega crying in a cell, strapped to a table like an animal, her voice a wailing scream --

“What makes you think he wishes to hurt her?” Tech said. “Look at the facts. His men took care to stun her. Hemlock mentioned Nala Se. Nala Se has certainly decommissioned her share of clones, but there is no evidence she would wish to harm Omega, and if Hemlock requires her cooperation… I believe Omega will be safe enough, for a time. It is simply logical.”

“You’re awfully optimistic for a dead man,” Hunter said, then dropped Tech’s datapad with a clatter, suddenly feeling sick. Did I just say that -- He stared up at Tech, holding out an unsteady hand. “I -- I’m sorry, Tech. I’m not -- I didn’t mean --”

Tech leaned forward, picking up the datapad and setting it down beside Hunter. “There is no need to apologize. I am indeed dead.”

Hunter swore loudly. “Don’t say that!”

“You just said it,” Tech pointed out. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Tech, I swear to --” Tech could be so infuriating sometimes. 

He suddenly laughed, feeling dangerously close to tears. None of this made any sense. What was going on?

Tech looked at him steadily. “You are aware of what this is, aren’t you?”

“No.” He buried his face in his hands, taking a deep breath.

“You need to sleep.” Tech held up his finger, underscoring his point. “The effects of sleep deprivation in humans are well-known and may include decreased reflexes, incoordination, irritability, immunosuppression, visual and auditory hallucinations --”

Hunter laughed again despite himself. “Great. Now you’re on my case too. Wrecker was bad enough.”

“You should go easy on him. He is only attempting to look out for you.” For a moment something painful flashed across Tech’s face, a twist of his mouth, shadows beneath his eyes. “It is important to him, Hunter. Do you understand?”

How could he understand?

The chasm gaped between them, the railcar dangling, the cold wind howling in his ears.

“Get up here! Now!” Hunter called. This wasn’t happening. Not again. There had to be time, they were going to make it -- they were all going to make it -- “That’s an order!” he screamed.

When have we ever followed orders --

A hand closed around his arm, shaking him gently. “Hunter. Hunter.”

Hunter blinked, the world snapping back to the Marauder and the stars beyond. “Saw him,” he choked. 

“Saw who?” Wrecker asked, settling into the chair beside him, looking anxious.

Hunter froze. He swallowed, looking around the empty cockpit, eyes landing on the shattered goggles. His gut twisted, and he managed a ragged breath.

“Nothing. Nothing.”

“You were yellin’,” said Wrecker, looking away. “Woke me up. I thought maybe you were having a nightmare, but your eyes were open --”

Hunter groaned. “I don’t know. Maybe I was.” He glanced at Tech’s datapad, which was on the floor where he’d dropped it. He’d thought Tech had picked it up -- 

But of course there’d been no one there.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, then bent down and picked up Tech’s datapad, handing it carefully to Wrecker. “You, uh… you keep an eye on things for a bit.”

Wrecker took it, though he hesitated. It looked so small in his hands. “Feels wrong, using this. It’s -- it’s his.”

“I know.”

“What are you gonna do?”

Hunter let out a sigh. “Gonna get some shut-eye. You were right. Keeping on like this isn’t going to find Omega any faster.” He brushed back the hair falling into his eyes, and got to his feet. He was about to turn and head to his bunk when he paused, reaching out and resting a hand on Wrecker’s shoulder. “Thanks. For looking out for me.”

Wrecker ducked his head, unable to speak for a moment. Finally he said, “s’what I’m here for.”

“Damn right it is.” Hunter gripped harder, then let go, making his way to his bunk. He rolled into it unceremoniously, more exhausted than he’d ever been in his life. He closed his eyes, and saw Omega.

They’d find her. They had to. And until then… He thought of what Tech had said, cool calm logic explaining why Omega would be safe. Maybe he was right. Maybe she’d get through this unharmed.

His mouth tightened. What Tech had said -- What a damn hallucination had said. He was losing it.

Yet Tech’s words were comforting, and he kept them close.  I believe she will be safe enough, for a time.

He’d make that time as short as possible. His fist curled in determination, then uncurled, fingers going slack as sleep took him. He dreamed of Pabu warm and sunny, the sound of waves on a rocky shore, Omega’s arms flung wide around him. He held her close, closer than he’d ever dared, an embrace that said you’ll always be our kid. 

But through Omega’s laughter and the setting sun there was an emptiness, and Hunter wandered long into the dark, looking for someone who wasn’t there.

[aew-kun-age-regression]

"Fix it please..?"

Pairings: Caregiver!Sally, Caregiver!Jack Skeleton x Little!Reader

Summary: Whilst playing with Jack you fall and rip a hole in your shirt. Not to fear Mama Sally is there to fix it! <3

Warnings: Nicknames that's it <3 (Mama, Dada, Dear, Darling, Little Bat)

A/N - I appreciate that this was not at all a request but I randomly decided I wanted to do this 😂

(Gender Neutral Reader)

‼️ THIS IS NOT NSFW ‼️

.

.

.

NOT Proofread

.

.

.

"Mama!!!"

Sally looked over to where you were currently bumbling over from.

"What's wrong Dear..?"

"Mm hole" you muttered.

"Hole? What do you mean Darling?"

Jack walked up behind you.

"They fell over and got a hole in the sleeve of their shirt. I said you may be able to do something spooky to make them feel better.."

Sally nodded.

"Well I definitely think I can do something, here.."

Sally gently took your hand and picked you up, placing you on a low down wall. She pulled out a needle & thread and careful of your skin, pinched the fabric of your shirt. She began to stitch a pattern into the shirt and within minutes the hole in your shirt had been stitched up and there was now a small pumpkin stitched over where the hole originally was.

"There you go Dear.."

"Thank you mama!!!" You giggled.

"Look dada is pumpkin!!"

Jack laughed, picking you up off the wall, holding you in his arms.

"It is isn't it little bat!"

Sally smiled as you and Jack returned to the game you had previously been playing.

"Be careful this time you two"

"Will do Mama!!"