#nightmare gets a tentacle cut off

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

Not sure how many chapters this will be but it will be slow burn 🖤

Crimson eyes. All that swims in your memory is the look of pure satisfaction in those eyes at the carnage that unfolds before you. Your mother and siblings laid drained and lifeless before you. Your father chanting prayers as he grovels at the feet of the man before you. He is sleek and pristine, with onyx colored hair and prestigious clothing now splattered with the blood of your loved ones. His lips form a nasty sneer, sharp canines glistening in the now dimly lit manor.

“You should have never made a wager you couldn’t keep, especially with a vampire.”

•••

Suddenly you are jolted away from the heart wrenching memory. Nightmares coming and going as blurs of reality swing past you. A tentacle creature. Some type of bug. But what alarms you now is the feeling of rock beneath you. You try to come to as your memories try to serve you. A ship, crashing said ship, others. Others! You jolt from the ground and look over. The Githyanki fighter is next to you as well as the other female you believed to have introduced herself as Shadowheart. You all look at eachother, relieved to be alive.

-

You all set foot to find any others that might have been held captive while in that demonic ship. So far you have found a tiefling named Karlach and the humans Gale and Wylls. You split up in search of any others with a designated spot to return to. You come upon one last survivor as you crest over a small hill. Silver hair rustles in the wind as the elf’s back faces you. He just barely looks over his shoulder at you, motioning you closer.

“Quickly! I have one of those brain things cornered over here! Come kill it!” He demands. He points towards the grass down the slope in front of him. You take cautious steps, moving silently towards where he mentions. You tense, hand ready at your weapon. A loud squeal comes bursting from the grass as a hog barrels out and away from you. You barely have a moment to turn around to the elf before a dagger is pressed to your throat. In seconds you are thrown to the ground tugging against strong arms ensnaring you.

“Now me and you are going to have a little chat. And you even think about pulling something and you’ll lose that darling neck of yours.” He all but purrs in your ear. You thrash against him, failing to pull the weapon away from your throat.

“Now I saw you on that ship, don’t even bother lying to me. What did you and those brain freaks do to me!?” He growls. You try to take a look at him but he has you pinned too tightly.

“I don’t have anything to do with those animals! I was taken, we all were!” You try to reason. Your temper begins to take over your fright. You escaped that hell hole. Fought tooth and bone to leave with your life. You would not be put down by some scared little elf. He bites back at you, focused on getting answers and not enough on how tight of a grip he has on you. Fury licks up the base of your body and fills your vision.

“Nice try but you’ll find me hard to convince, now what-“ you cut off his ranting as your leg wraps around one of his own. Your opposite arms elbow plants firmly in the ground as you swing yourself up and over the elf. You land him on his back; twisting his wrist in your right hand as your left hand reaches down to grab his now dropping blade. In one smooth motion your legs capture his frame under your own hip to hip as both of your hands ring around his stolen dagger. Confusion smears over his features as hands shoot up in defense. You just bring yourself to give into your anger, to drive the dagger directly into his heart for infuriating you with his insane tactics before your eyes meet. Crimson eyes meet your (e/c) ones. And the world falls out from beneath you. You plummet into a vast nothingness. Your heart gripped and laid bare. Vampire.

-

Astarions POV

-

Barely escaping out of a now wrecked ship with disguising brain maggots crawling from it was probably within the top ten worst days of Asatarion’s long life. His muscles ached and his neck throbbed from the impact of where he now found himself. Brushing off dirt from his sleeves, Asatarion rose to his nimble feet as he shook out the pains in his legs. He finds himself in a grassy plain. The ship that once held him hostage was now just over the horizon smashed in against a mountain. Wreckage spewed across the field with no hint as to where he now found himself. He had half a mind to just start walking and find somewhere someplace someone to end up in. But he remembered there were others, whether fellow captive or foe he was not sure. As if on cue, the crunch of feet on leaves and twigs ushered in behind him. A malicious smirk graced his handsome face. Now there was someone with answers. Or dinner. He could take it or leave it. The manic leer doesn’t leave his face as he feigns terror to his new audience. With a signal of his wagging hand he gestures for them to come forward.

“Quickly! I have one of those brain things cornered over here! Come kill it!” Soft steps quietly make their way towards and past him. Your frame comes into his view. Your (h/c) hair billows behind you as you step in front of him. He takes in your toned form flecked with blood and feels his hunger only grow. A tasty little treat. You appease his cries and look over into the clearing where grass covers most of what hides beneath. Just as you ready yourself for another battle a boar rushes out. Astarion jumps on your temporary confusion and pounces onto you. His blade reaches your neck as he hurls your joined bodies to the ground. You twist and curl from him as you listlessly fight from his grasp.

“Now me and you are going to have a little chat. And you even think about pulling something and you’ll lose that darling neck of yours.” Your face may be facing away from him but he can feel the anger pulsing in your rising blood pressure. Your suppulent artery thrums, tantalizing him under your (s/c) skin. He nearly loses himself there staring at your beating pulse. He reigns himself in, shaking the thoughts and desires to be dealt with momentarily.

“Now I saw you on that ship, don’t even bother lying to me. What did you and those brain freaks do to me!?” He spits. Your talon like nails dig into him as you fight back.

“I don’t have anything to do with those animals! I was taken, we all were!” You all but scream. Astarion snarls, the sound vibrating in his aching fangs. “Nice try but you’ll find me hard to convince, now what-“ Astarion finds himself interrupted as you maneuver your body to throw him under yourself. Your long legs hook under each of his own while you busy yourself with stealing his dagger. Astarion can’t help but be mildly impressed but confusion and annoyance soon take precedence. His hands shoot upwards to grab the weapon from your nimble hands. His gaze darts up to you and the moment your gazes lock it as if fire runs throughout his entire body. Every system, every neuron locks against his will. The rest of the world falls to the sidelines, the world blurring around you. You seem to have the same reaction as your muscles relax and a quizzical look takes over the fiery one of earlier.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” You sneer. Astarion puts on his most dazzling smile in hopes it covers the utter confusion he feels at what had just passed between the two of you.

“Astarion my dear, and what’s your name oh so deadly killer?” Your temper flares across your face at his teasing.

“(Y/n).” It sounds vaguely familiar. Like a name long forgotten wiggling in the back of his mind. Or it was the rabid worm that was placed there.

“If you are all done wrestling now, we have ground to cover!” Shadowheart yells. You look up at her, back to him and then back to her. Torn on whether to stab him or not, you decide on the latter. You hoist yourself up and side step away from him. Bringing himself up by the elbows Astarion takes a moment to look you over. Interesting.

Part 2 here

[derangedanomaly]

could you do bad sanses and star sanses who’s s/o is a skeleton monster as well:3

btw hope your having a good day:D

Hii! I am having a swell day! :D hope you're also having a good day! As for the request, I decided to do a little spin on it.

The reader is dead, and you're magically brought to life. (A little like in Corpse Bride).

Decided to cut this up into two parts! The next part will be: Error, Dream, Ink, Swap

Part 2

Their s/o is a skeleton (PART 1)

(Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror)

Nightmare:

He doesn't really care in the beginning, cause..like, he met more than thousand of skeletons before. Why would you be any special??

Would act like you're never even there. 😭

After one day of having enough, he tries to get some negative feelings out of you. But...you know...this proves to be difficult, cause you're always very cheerful!

It bothers him immensely, won't stop trying to get you in a bad mood.

But he just can't succeed. (Bummer)

This changes when he finds out that you're a skeleton... because you're dead.

His reaction is to be expected. He immediately reacts by smirking widely. (More like, creepily 😭)

Now he has a way to get negative feelings out of you. (Good luck with that by the way)

Your relationship is very...angsty. At the start. He's just using you to get some negativity, and you hate him for that. How lovely! :)

You actually can't take it anymore, so you snap at him for the first time that y'all know each other. This particular moment, is actually what makes him simp respect you.

Look, he just has a type for people that deny him or stand up to him. (Since no one really did it before, out of fear)

He became a little vulnerable when it came to you from that point onward.

He actually tries to help you out to understand some of the skeleton magic. (He's really just showing off though. Wants you to be impressed by him 💀)

You two act like an 'old married couple.' As Killer states.

Since you weren't born as a skeleton, but became one after you died, you were much more fragile...you would find yourself being wrapped around Nightmare's tentacles, so he can heal your injuries. (Mostly broken bones.)

Unfortunately, Nightmare very much forgets this fact very often...so he'll be frustrated with your fragile self almost every time.

Nightmare went up to you in anger, his tentacles furiously moving on his back. "I told you to cut off Ink! Not laze around." You furrow your gaze at him, starting to feel irritated. He knew you were physically unable to do so in your current health condition, yet he still shouts at you?! "Oh no no no Nightmare. You're blaming me?!" He rolled his eyes, staring you down. "Yes, of course. Who else would fuck this mission up as badly as you?!" You let out a low huff, cooking up a plan. Oh this is gonna be golden. "Nightmare...h-how could you say that...?" Nightmare's gaze suddenly changed as you let out crying sounds. He didn't know what to say now...it was.............awkward.. for him, I mean. "Uhm...damn, I really didn't expected that reaction from someone like you..umm....are..you.? Ok..?" You almost let out a small laugh at his quiet question. How very uncharacteristic of him. You shake your head, slowly looking up at him. "No...no. I'M NOT FUCKING OK!" He flinched when you suddenly shouted, pointing at him. "FUCK YOU, AND YOUR EMO ASS!" You stomped your way away from him, leaving him stunned, to go treat your injuries.

He should feel angry at you for shouting at him like that. He should already be making a punishment for you, but...he did neither of those things. The only thing he did, is stood there. A turquoise blush started to slowly appear on his face as he watched you tend to your injuries, with Dust on your side helping you out. He couldn't help the next thought that came to him as he watched you, little hearts appearing in his eye sockets instead of his white pupils. So this is love?

Killer:

Oh. You're also a skeleton? Cool.

He doesn't really know how to feel about that at first. He also thinks that you're just another Sans. 🤷‍♀️

After he finds out that you're not, his interest is 10 times more peaked then ever.

If you're not sensitive about the topic, he will ask thousands of questions about how being dead works.

Since he's a gamer at heart, he will make some silly jokes about you being like the skeletons in Minecraft. 💀 (Partially forgetting he's also a skeleton.)

He can't stand you doing anything that requires strength. Not because he's frustrated with you, but because the little playboy is very worried for you. 🥺

Literally WON'T let you even open a very tight jar.

He's like your little servant. (If you want, he'll even let you call him that. He's just freaky like that you know.)

He's partially helping you with everything just so he can show off his strength to you. He wants to make you swoon over him.

Whenever you're sad, he'll make it his mission to make you laugh. (Which works. He's good at making people laugh. Most of the time..)

You both just tease the other. Seeing who'll back out first. (None of you do. Lol.)

He's always demanding for you two to be paired together on missions. He reasoning is always like, 'I want you close to me' or 'I don't want to be paired up with anyone else besides you.' but that's only half of the truth.

He's doing this because he wants to keep a close eye on you. Wants to make sure you're safe.

Look, he once saw what injuries you had when you broke your bones for the first time, he doesn't wanna experience that again.

"Alright... Changing to blue!" Killer groaned as he took another card from the deck. You were seated on the couch, playing Uno. And you were winning! There's no way Killer can win, you have only one card in your hand, and he has-! Wait...oh SHOOT! You didn't say Uno! "Hah! You didn't say the word..~ take one." Killer pointed to the deck of cards as you sighed. "Whatever. I've got this anyway!" You beamed. Killer only looked at you with curious gaze.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"I never lose, cupcake." You hummed at the nickname, not refusing the pinkish blush appearing on your cheeks. "Me neither!" Killer's smirk made you suddenly nervous..what is he planning? You hope he doesn't have some trick up his sleeves.... really, he's kinda stupid..but not when he's playing games! It could be any type of game, and he'll win with passing colors. You didn't even know what to do to win against him at least once.

"W-What? What's with your smirk?" Killer shrugged. "It's nothing...why? Scared~?" You snorted, and let out nervous laughs. "Hah! You're kidding? Pfft..no..just.... why are you smirking...?" He couldn't help but laugh at your sheepishness. "Nothing.. really....I just like looking at you. I like playing games with you. You make playing them fun." You couldn't help the blush forming on your face. "....thank you, Killer...I also like playing games with you. Your overconfidence is very attractive." Killer suddenly stopped what he was doing, which was drinking, and spit out the said drink. He wasn't expecting that. And now... he's the one flustered.

Unfortunately, he didn't noticed your successful win in his dreamy daze...

Dust:

He doesn't pay you much mind. He knows too much skeletons to handle another one...

He views you just as a stupid joker that will only make his life more miserable....until he finds out you weren't born as a skeleton, but became a skeleton after you died.

His opinions about you didn't changed much. He just became less harsh with you.

He does feel very interested in the details of how does one even become a skeleton..but feels shy to outright ask you. Especially if you're sensitive about that topic! He would never ever wish to make you uncomfortable!

He starts to try to talk to you after he finds out that Horror trusts you. If Horror trusts you, then you can't be a stick in the mud or anything like that? Right?

You guys actually have a very pleasant conversation. You find his journalling cute, which he curses you for. 'He's not cute damn it!' yes he is. He very much is.

He panicked the first time he saw your broken bones after a mission. He'll ask you tons of questions about what happened, while patching you up like an angry/worried mom.

After that, he doesn't let you do everything alone. He has to supervise if something bad happens! (Just an excuse to hang out with you more)

He often likes to test out some 'gadgets' he makes specifically for you, to stable your fragility. Some kinda help, but some don't help at all.

He has a journal titled 'Y/n'. At first, like usual, he writes about your powers... species etc.. but after awhile of getting to know you, it slowly shifts to writing about trivial things, that he doesn't normally writes in his journals..

Things like: your favorite color, drink,...your ideal date. (don't ask him why that's an important information.)

You sit on a chair, watching as Killer and Horror play a game. It was getting pretty heated, until you felt a hand tap you. You turn around, only to be met with Dust's chest. You pause, cursing under your breath, until finally shifting your gaze upwards on his face.

Dust shyly smiles down at you. "Hey..." You nod at him. "Hi." There's an awkward silence for awhile, until he finally speaks. "Uhm. So, Horror told me how nice you are... so I decided to give you a chance to prove yourself... Prove to me that you're not like the other skeletons." You slightly gulped, staring at him with confusion. "Ok.. so..what? You wanna play 20 questions?" He nodded, sitting down next to you. And so...your little game began.

The questions were quite normal. Ranging from 'What's your favorite color?' to 'Favorite animal?'. Dust suddenly asked you a question that made you pause for a bit..

"Do you have a significant other?" You blinked up at him.. thinking it over. "No...I don't. No one really made me interested, you know? Besides... I'm a little romantic in these sort of things! Heh..." Dust looked at you, curious. "Oh? We're your fantasies unfulfilled?" You slowly nodded at his question in embarrassment...

"I just want to be given flowers romantically, finding little romantic notes on my table from my secret admirer.... I know that it's a little fairytale-like. But I just like the thought of that..." Dust hummed, looking off to the side.

—

You get up from your bed as you hear knocking on your door. Nightmare couldn't possibly be requesting you for a mission at this hour?! You open the door, only to be met with Dust's eyes. You smile at him, relief washing over you to find out it's not Nightmare... "Dust? What're you doing here so late at night?" He smiled softly at you, blushing. He suddenly showed you a beautiful banquet of your favorite flowers! He held them out to you. You took them from his hands, feeling touched at this gesture. "Huh..? Dust.. what's all this for?" He smiled. "Do you remember when you told me about your romantic fantasies that were unfulfilled?" Ah yes. It was a little way back..you smiled at the thought. "You...did this for me?" Dust, yet again smiled and patted your head. "Anything for you... Sleep well, princess." You were left there with the biggest blush on your face. No fair Dust! You looked at the flowers again, smiling warmly, until getting inside your room.

You placed the flowers in a vase, and put it on your table. As you did this, a letter suddenly appeared on your table. You jump a little, not expecting that. You took the letter in your hands, reading it. It was a love poem, written for you! At the very bottom of the letter is signed: 'Your secret admirer'. You hug the letter in giddiness. He didn't forget...

Of course he didn't. How could he...when he has it written down in his journal. ;)

Horror:

He's... interested, to say the least. Horror always felt like something is different about you, call it a sixth sense or something, but he just somehow knew you weren't a 100% pure skeleton. (You smelled different 💀)

That's why he kept following you around... You found it quite cute, but from other people's perspective...it was.. terrifying.

He was like your own guard dog.

You tried making conversations with him, but he would never respond.

He did watch you closely while you talked.. but it was really like if you were talking to yourself.

It kinda seemed like he never listened to you, but truth be told, he did listen. Just never responded.

He was never much for talking anyways. He's a good listener though! 👍

He panicked when he heard your bones break the first time. And when I mean panic.... I mean he went absolutely bonkers.

After that, whenever you were on missions he sat you on his shoulders. (I HC that out of all the sanses, Horror's the tallest)

This slowly became a normal occurrence to you. You would be standing somewhere, he would come and sit you on his shoulders.

I mean...you didn't complain. 🤷‍♀️

You were talking with Horror about your day, as he watched you with that smile of his. Wait... he's probably not listening. He's not listening...you probably bore him. Now you feel bad.. you're wasting his time..You slowly stopped talking after awhile, glancing down. Horror looked at you in confusion.

"Something..the matter..?" He carefully put his hand on your shoulder. You sighed, looking up at him once again. "No.. it's just.....It doesn't really seem like you ever listen to me...I feel like I'm only wasting your time with this, sorry.. I'll just go now-" as you were about to run away, he stopped you, holding your hand. "Wait..!" You looked at him curiously. He looked really sad..

"...I...." No words were coming out of him, as he felt shy under your gaze. He inhaled a deep breath, and then exhaled. "..please..don't...leave..." He coughs a little to make himself stop talking so slowly. "This is...all I'm....waiting for...at the end...of the day.....Y/n..." You feel touched by his words. "I'm always...listening....to you...I love your voice.." it took everything in you to not burst out into tears.

You went up to him and hugged him. "Aww! Horror....I thought you're never listening to me! Thank you.." Horror blushed red, but smiled, enjoying your hugs. He returned your hugs with a smile similar to a puppy..

He's surely going to try engaging in your conversations now! He doesn't ever want to see that broken expression on your face again..not when he's around.

[osleeplessflowero]

//I've had this on Ao3 since last year, I forgot to post it here so..why not do it now? :)

Bittersweet

A Short Flirty Vampire!Nightmare x Vampire Hunter!Reader Oneshot

Spice warning, Licking/Biting

Thunder roars in the moonlit sky. You travel under the cover of night, following a path. You keep your hand over a blade at your side, the cloak you're wearing flowing behind you as you run.

"You are the only person we can count on to defeat this monster. He's killed off many of our own long enough. Dispose of it at once, we beg of you!"

You stare up at the now illuminated mansion, running closer to it and halting once you reach the front doors. Your hand hovers over the knob. ..There's no time to dwell on it, just get it done..

You open the door abruptly, walking forward. Lightning strikes in the distance behind you as you point your now unsheathed sword forwards. 

Before you sits a large monster on his throne, tentacles twisting around and moving ever so slightly. His single eyelight falls on you, glowing throughout the dark room as it rests on you. His attire is fancy, you've seen quite a few eye-catching looks from him before. NOT THAT THEY CAUGHT YOURS-- That's ABSURD--

"Welcome back, darling. I was wondering when you'd return to me." A grin stretches across his face.

"I'm here to slay you, Nightmare. Once and for all. Your soul will look gorgeous on my shelf.." 

"You already have my soul..my heart as well. There is no need for all of this." He rests his cheek on the palm of his left hand.

You feel your cheeks heat up a bit. No, NONONO. You are here to KILL him, don't fall for him- NO.

Taking a deep breath, you charge at him. "There's no time for idle chitchat-"

"A shame..I could talk with you for hours, love." 

You jump up, slashing your sword downwards before a tentacle grabs you, holding you in place before throwing you backwards, onto the floor. 

"Winning the approval of some mindless villagers is quite meaningless, you know. Wouldn't you rather go towards the arms of someone who actually wants you there?" 

"I'm not doing this for approval-" You jump towards him again, swinging your sword before he knocks you back once more.  

He stands up, tentacles reaching out in different directions. He looks..amused by your attempts to attack him. You want to wipe that shit eating grin off of his face. 

"Don't pretend like you actually want to kill me." 

"I do, and I WILL-"

You're cut off by a tentacle wrapping itself around you, another trapping your arms and dragging you towards him so you can see him face-to-face. 

He reaches out his hand, placing it against your cheek. You feel your face heat up even more, trying to turn away before he caresses your chin, holding it in place with his thumb and index finger. 

"Why do you resist your true desires? For your reputation? For the profits of the hunt? I could give you so much more. You don't need this life..wouldn't you rather stay with me?"

"Stop it. Your devilish charms won't work on me."

He chuckles, staring into your eyes. "I've done nothing but talk, my dear. Perhaps it's simply you that finds me charming." 

"You'd certainly wish that were the case, wouldn't you?" You struggle to get out of the tentacle's grasp.

"I know it's the case."

"Just how would you know that?" 

"For one, I can see it on your face. And second..it's why you've hesitated to kill me each time we've fought..you can't bear the thought of killing me. So you hesitate and hesitate until someone asks you to do it..and even then.." He lifts one of your trembling hands with his own. "You still don't want to do it."

"I.." You avert your eyes from him. 

He's right..and god, do you hate it. 

The fights..the banter..the tension..all of it drew you more and more in. 

Why? Why did it have to be a vampire, the very species you're trying to hunt down and exterminate for good? Why must fate be this cruel? 

"Well? What now, Vampire Hunter?" 

You break free from the tentacle's grip, raising your sword once more. 

He stands completely still, holding out his arms. 

"Go on, then. Make your move. I'm even making it easy for you.."

You shudder, staring at the end of your blade, which is only inches from his chest. One strike to the soul and it'd be over. 

..Why aren't you moving? Why are you just standing there?

The sword shakes along with you. 

"Even if I were to give up..all you'd do is kill me and take my blood. I know your type." You glare into his piercing gaze.

"I wouldn't dream of killing you, darling. You're much too precious to me.." His eyelight narrows a bit, a light green flush manifesting over his cheekbones. 

You gulp, moving a foot back. Keep your stance wide..body lowered..just hit him. Kill him and get this over with.

"Just as I thought. You can't do it."

"I- I'm getting to it-"

"You won't kill me, because you love me. You love me so much you can't stand it."

You glare down at the floor. 

The sound of a sword making contact with something is heard. 

Nightmare's eyelight shrinks as your sword falls from your hands. You collapse, placing your hands over your eyes. 

He lowers his arms, walking over to you and knocking the blade out of the way with one of his tentacles, kneeling in front of you.

"There's no need to hide how you truly feel. I understand it more than anyone in this universe could."

"It's not fair. Why does it have to be you?" You stare at him.

"Fate works in mysterious ways, my dear. It simply brought our souls together..a collective feeling. Fate brought us together, and fate will not tear us apart..I'll make sure of that."

"What am I supposed to do? Go back there and tell them I didn't kill you? They'll burn me at the stake or something-"

"There's no need to go back." 

"I live there, smart guy."

"Yes..but you don't have to any longer. You could always..stay with me." 

You put your hand over your mouth. 

"No, I couldn't possibly-"

"I insist. This way we wouldn't have to be separated again..it works out for both of us, doesn't it?"

You frown, looking at your sword. "But my work..my efforts...everything would be left behind."

"You could always..find something new for yourself." 

You turn back to him, seeing a small smile on his face. ..Maybe he's right. This work wasn't exactly making you all that happy, anyway..

"We can arrange something..make it look like we killed each other in a long battle. That way you will still have your..dignity, I suppose, and we both get to leave together." 

"How do I know I could trust you? Vampires are known for persuasiveness."

"If I am to betray your trust, I give you full permission to put a blessed blade through my soul. Do we have an agreement?"

"..Very well.."

He grins, lifting your head with his hand. "Now then..may I claim you as my own?"

Your face flushes, warming up. Wow, if you told your past self this would happen you'd have never believed it. 

"Speak, darling."

"..Yes."

He leans down, hovering over your neck, exposing it. You shiver as you feel his hot breath against your skin. He moves his long tongue over it slowly, savoring your taste. You bite your lip, feeling yourself get a little excited.

He pauses for a brief moment, admiring your expression before sinking his teeth into you, holding you still with his hands. 

You wince, leaning back a bit before he grabs you to make sure you don't fall. 

You feel yourself begin to grow weak, and only then does he stop, wiping away your precious blood from his mouth. 

"Ah..Bittersweet..just how I like it."

Staring longingly into his eyelight, you lean your head against his chest as he lifts you in a bridal carry, beginning to use his magic to fix up the room. 

"A shame..I quite liked this vacation home. Oh well..there's always others."

You close your eyes, needing rest from today's events. 

[monodramatic-cannibal]

Realized I never posted my Crossmare ship kid.

So here's Raiden :D I will put into for him under the cut if ayone is curious about him.

Head Canon voice: (Wanderer ((English)) from genshin impact) (Personality wise he's also quite similar to Wanderer too)

More info on his design:

He’s actually goop like Nightmare, it's just his goop is different colours. Has claws which they’re red like the marking on his face. When viewing his eye from the side the star pupil can be seen slightly above his eye. The skeletal things on his tentacles can be shot out/thrown as a sort of weapon can regenerate. The main necklace part is actually a gem. His legs have the same gradient that's on his face (the dark to light, doesn’t have red in the gradient on his legs)

Some info on family:

Raiden was raised primarily by Nightmare and Cross, but had the rest of the murder trio to look after him too. To him Killer is like an older brother, whereas Dust and Horror more so feel like uncles to him. Nightmare was the one to give him an education, as well as Raiden picking up a sharp tongue from him. Cross was the one to train him in combat in both physically fighting and being combat smart too. As well as dealing with Raiden’s emotional needs. (Both Nightmare and Cross may do the other’s role from time to time. E.g. Rai learning more dumb insults from Cross, or Nightmare providing a more logical emotional approach to a situation)

The way Nightmare and Cross raised Raiden is they both agreed to not push Raiden in a direction to be good or bad. Both of them would like Raiden to be a better person than them. But they know they can’t say much given how they are, especially now with how smart Raiden is, if they tried to push him to be good he’d probably use it against them. So they feel they made the right call with raising him.

Raiden was about before Dream/Nightmare made the truce, Nightmare kept Dream from knowing about Raiden, not wanting his enemy to know about his kid. But Nightmare never talked bad about Dream around Raiden, wanting Raiden to make his own opinions on Dream without his input. A year or two after the truce became a thing (around when Raiden was 14) Nightmare did tell Raiden if he wanted to go seek out his brother he could, but Raiden didn’t care too much to know him. Dream (and his group) only found out about Raiden recently.

Raiden doesn’t care too much about Dream or his group. Nor does he make much of an effort to get to know them. Finds them weird.

Who Raiden feels is his family: Nightmare: Dad (on rare occasions calls him Old Man) Cross: Pa / Pops Killer: (older brother figure) Dust: (Uncle figure) Horror: (Uncle figure) Error: (unsure but sees him as family) (will add more when I figure out more about Rai)

His magic/attacks/etc:

A lot of the magic he can preform have an ‘X’ theme to them. E.g. things like this (this being one of Arlecchino’s attacks in genshin, but I’m stealing its look for Raiden)

When his attacks aren’t ‘X’ themed they tend to look like lightning bolts (him living up to his name)

He can create a small (unseen) bubble around himself, when people enter this bubble they’re in an awake nightmare. Raiden being able to control the space within this bubble manipulating reality within this bubble as if it was a nightmare. Though this drains Raiden very quickly.

He also has blades he can summon. To most these blades appear to be shaped like lightning bolts, when in reality Raiden actually based it off of Cross’s scar. And at this point Raiden is too embarrassed to admit that to anyone.

---------

He doesn’t fully understand how to express emotions or how to understand others emotions. He struggles a bit, he still does express emotions, it’s just they may be a bit random sometimes. E.g. he’s annoyed most of the time, or may find things funny in situations he shouldn’t. He is a good person, and does have manners. It’s just he’s selective on who he decides to offer his polite side too.

Him being somewhat monotone and having a sharp tongue means he tends to upset or anger people who don’t understand how he speaks. He also doesn’t like most people, is very picky with who he decides to get along with. So even if someone can understand him there's a chance that Raiden will just be disgusted with them for no reason. He very much struggles to hold his tongue, often speaking without thinking. Which sometimes lands him in trouble.

Finds it hard to comprehend how others think, especially if they have a drastically different view to him. Will basically have a crisis thinking about how others have thoughts that he doesn’t know. (Not main character syndrome, more so people exist and have their own thoughts and feelings that I can’t understand, and I don’t like that)

He very much adores his family, and as much as he tends to insult everyone (Nightmare is the only one in the group that can escape his insults), he will apologize if he does feel like he’s actually upset one of them.

He is very much a family person, preferring to stick to his family and people they get along with over making his own friends. Doesn’t mean he won’t make his own friends, it’s just easier for him to stick to people who can understand him or explain to others how to understand him.

----------

Some info on the world/au:

In the world of this au both Nightmare’s and Dream’s group called a truce, Error and Ink also have their own separate truce between them. Basically for them not to cause any drastic positivity/negativity but both (Nightmare/Dream) allowed to step in if the balance of emotions in the multiverse gets out of whack.

The au follows more fanon interpretations of the groups, as well as my own head canons and such, I may or may not change lore as well for some characters.

[orbital-inclination]

I requested more of the scenario Molt meeting og nightmare

I'm sorry for the wait anon! For a change of pace, you get a one-shot this time! word count: 3411 general content warning for canon typical violence and angst.

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

Something grainy, like gravel and sand, crunched under the soles of his boots as he shuffled back a step. One looping tendril made contact with a roughly cut boulder behind him. The height of the stone reached his hip. Clumsily, he ran his phalanges along its surface. He stepped around it and stopped once he stood on the south side, uncertain of how to proceed from there.

It was rare that he found himself in a space so wide open without someone nearby. He’d like to think he was better at navigating now than he had been when he was younger. Yet, regardless of how much time passed, he could never seem to quite outgrow the sudden spike of anxiety he felt whenever he entered a space that seemed... empty.

 He didn’t know what he was walking towards or away from. He could be approaching a canyon for all he knew.

A steady, lonely wind howled above him. It caught the tail of his tunic and the fabric slapped against his side. Something rustled in the distance. 

The wind turned cold. 

Ley lines of magic, negative and positive, wrapped around this world in a vast net of ever-shifting ripe tides. Instinct had directed him to follow the nearest positive swell but now he felt it move again. Bending as though to make way. Just as suddenly as the air had turned cold, a well opened up, and negativity cascaded down the pit and condensed into a single point of black frost. 

A shiver ran down his spine. “Nightmare…?”

Something about Rem’s magic didn’t feel right—

“How unlike you to make the first move. Was it not enough for you to…” his brother’s voice trailed off. “You are not my brother.” 

No... no he was not. Rem’s magic felt cold, but not this cold. Though, the undercurrent of bitterness was painfully familiar. 

“… the sentiment is mutual,” Molt murmured. He steadied himself on the boulder behind him. Silently, he tried to gauge the other’s intent.

An air of suspicion and curiosity rolled underneath the cold. He had the sense he was also being appraised.

“And yet, you are Dream.”

He did not sound—did not feel happy about that.

“If it were not impossible, I would wager you were from a divergent timeline.”

“Our world had only one timeline,” Molt confirmed cautiously. His voice remained low. “… it’s tied to the multiverse itself. No resets. Just the one.”

“Ah, so you are informed,” his brother's voice mocked. “Your presence here suggests a paradox, then. For all my searching, I have never met another iteration of us who could breach the confines of their AU on their own. It seemed there was some law restricting the role of Guardian to Two.”

He nodded because that more or less described the situation back home. With a renewed sense of scrutiny, Nightmare said, “Can I assume then, that instead of your brother, you were the one who bit the apple?”

And Molt stalled. The question was so direct. It felt a bit like a verbal slap to the face. 

Nightmare hummed. “I see. That expression you’re making... It makes sense for my alternative self to have other motives if you are like this yourself.” He heard the grin in his tone, even if he could not see it. “Tell me, Dream. What do you say to adding to that collection of yours?” He— he couldn’t be serious. 

“In this multiverse, you have the opportunity to increase your power. If you collect the last apple from my brother, perhaps we can reach an agreement.”

His mouth felt suddenly dry. He had to consciously still his tentacles to keep them from lashing defensively.

“You… you want me to kill my counterpart.”

He struggled to wrap his mind around that. Less so the threat itself and more so that it was Nightmare who was asking him to do it. He felt sick.

His brother’s alternate rumbled a low laugh. “It would not be difficult for you. You dwarf him in raw power. I’m confident you could easily subdue him... Ah, but I see I cannot convince you. The thought distresses you. A pity.”

Gravel and sand crunched underfoot. The sound came quietly. “ … hmm just as I thought, you are blind.”

“...what are you doing?” 

Nightmare was amused by the question. Dread washed over him. Nightmare had been speaking to him civilly until that point, and while this mirror of his brother gave off an ambient feeling of danger, he had not taken the feeling as seriously as he should have. 

“I am considering what to do with you. Since it seems you are reluctant to cooperate. But you would be of a dull mind not to suspect that already. If you are anything like the thorn I have in my side now, I’m sure you will quickly surmise why I simply cannot let your existence go unchecked.” 

Molt slowly shuffled a step back. 

“… where do you think you will escape to? Are you even aware of what is behind you?”

Molt froze.

He sensed no one behind him but— the subtle rustle of fabric. A step was taken closer and it dawned on him that Nightmare had been trying to distract him.

Molt’s hearing was keen. It had to be. He learned to rely on it when sensing nearby emotions, and the flow of positive and negative wasn’t enough. But his haptic memory was better, and with one tentacle brushing against the boulder behind him, he knew which side he stood on and which direction he originally came from. 

He darted around the boulder, squarely placing it between himself and Nightmare. His brother’s alternate self stood still, contemplative and mildly surprised. 

“Hm. You cannot see, and yet you are able to pinpoint my position. Interesting.” 

Molt didn’t feel like providing a reply.

Nightmare didn’t move for a width of time that felt like years. And then, he vanished. The cold sucked out of the air in a blip of distorted space-time.

Alarm seized him. Given no time to think, he picked direction and distance at random and took a shortcut through. As he felt his bones materialize in reality again, a dense frame of cold magic solidified where he had stood seconds prior.

Displeasure radiated off of Nightmare in waves. “Come now. Don’t run. It’s unbecoming. We can discuss the terms of your departure from this world with maturity.”

Molt shivered. “Don’t. I would return to my reality if I knew how.”

“Then allow me to assist you,” Nightmare said, and the malice in his words sent needles crawling up his spine. He vanished again in a wash of cold. Molt leaped back, grasping at the nearest tide of positivity to carry him away.

He found his feet again on the sand. The sudden incline made him stumble. The seconds it took to catch his balance nearly cost him. A frustrated growl and the sensation of ice to his right was the only warning he had before a sharp object whistled past his skull. He teleported again and Nightmare followed. 

“Enough! Cease this childishness.” The burning cold struck his side. Molt tumbled to the ground. He rolled, gasping in pain, and launched himself to the side. “Stop! I don’t want to fight you.” A loud crack sounded where he’d just been. Gravel pelted his arm. 

“Then what happens next is your own fault,” His brother’s voice snarled.

He took another shortcut. Aiming north of the dense vortex of cold desperately trying to put some distance between himself and his brother’s counterpart. He needed that distance to escape this AU. If he attempted the jump too close to Nightmare he might unintentionally drag him along, or Nightmare would be able to sense where he went and this fight would never end. The temperature plummeted. In a split second, a cold tendril snapped around his middle. And then he was flung. His body hit the ground once, twice, and his skull was knocked against something hard. 

A hiss shuddered through his ribcage. Molt clenched his teeth as the world spun, attempting to swallow back the sound. 

“You brought this on yourself, Dream.” 

Gravel and sand crunched at a steady pace. Malice approached slowly. 

He struggled to push himself upright. The ground beneath him swayed dangerously. His tendrils lashed, writhing in defense of their host. But the ground beneath him lurched, his arms buckled, and the ground swung up to meet the side of his skull again. 

His soul pulsed so fast and hard in his chest, he thought he was going to be sick. 

“Poetic, isn’t it? I wonder... did the same desperation drive you?”

Cold wrapped around him and slammed his back into a hard, stone wall. 

Claws dug into his jaw, roughly pinning his skull to the stone slab behind him. A strained hiss tore from his bared teeth. He found the strength to wrestle one arm free and dug his claws into the wrist pinning his head down. Nightmare’s strength didn’t waver, but an involuntary noise rattled through him, a jolt that was close enough to a flinch to be nothing else. 

Faintly, Molt felt the phantom echo of a hot brand race up Nightmare’s arm, starting from where his claws dug into his wrist.

“W-why are you doing this? I am not from your timeline, so why?”

“The distinction is irrelevant,” the grip on his jaw tightened. “This fate, it’s the least you deserve. For everything you put me through. For every day I was left to defend myself while you selfishly basked in undeserved praise.” 

Exhaustion crept into his limbs. He felt weaker and heavier by the second.

“Would you have always resented me?” Molt gasped out. “If things had been different... If our lives had been better—”

Nightmare barked out a bitter laugh. “Even as you are now, you are naive. No. I cannot imagine a world where I did not hate you. For us, no other outcome was possible.” Molt flinched. “... you doubt me? Do you actually believe my alternate self doesn’t resent you?” 

The knife in his heart gave a sharp lurch. It would make sense... wouldn’t it. For all he hadn’t done, who wouldn’t resent him? 

“N-Night...”

“You neglected your responsibilities, Dream. You were selfish. I’ve always wondered if you had known what I stood to lose that day. If you had known what they had planned to do—” “Nightmare!” Molt snapped. He was terrified, his soul shook, and he was painfully cold. “That was my home too!” Something snapped. He felt the abrupt, quaking shift in Nightmare’s demeanor. Rage colored all rational thought. Molt didn’t know what he intended to do and he didn’t have time to think about it. That rage solidified into a single, sharp tool. Malice soaked the thing so vividly, he could almost see it. A serrated bone dagger.

Molt jerked his head to the side, the claws on his jaw slipped, and something sharp and blisteringly cold scraped the side of his skull.

He might have blacked out for a few seconds. He couldn’t be sure. One moment, his vision was black. Then it was white. He’d yanked a tentacle free in the next. A resounding crack thundered through the stone lab behind him. Nightmare’s grip on his head slipped, caught off guard. Molt kicked his shin, and as Nightmare staggered, snarling, he flash-stepped out of immediate reach. 

A safe distance away he sank to the ground. 

Head swimming, he lifted a shaky hand to the side of his skull. He felt bone. The dry, clean surface of a malar bone. The muddy, blurred shape of his palm swam in and out of focus. 

Nightmare stood very still for a long moment. His emotions felt stunted and Molt could not identify the feeling that had rendered him so still. Moments ago, Nightmare had been content to hurt him in every possible way.

“Get up,” Nightmare said. And he couldn’t identify the emotion behind that command either. It felt like anger but brittle. “I said get up!”

A tremble racked through his body. He felt a forbidden spark of anger ignite in his throat and shakily rose to his feet.

As he slowly lifted his gaze, palm still pressed to the side of his skull, he saw black tar and went still. 

It was one thing to guess the shape of the magic that had tossed him around the field like a rag doll, but it was another thing entirely, to see it.

The ground felt like it was tilting. Nightmare was taking too long to respond. And though he hid it well, he was clearly in pain. Head swimming. Pounding. Red-hot needles. Nausea pricked through his brother’s bones.

Nightmare took one step closer. Molt flinched back, and a bitter smile crawled over his brother’s teeth—

“NOT SO FAST!”

A sharp ping. His vision was eclipsed in hazy blue. Before Molt could blink, he found himself yanked to the side, several feet away.

He was released, gently at that, and stumbled once as gravity resumed its normal weight. The world erupted in a cacophony of noise. With color and light sloshing together, it was difficult to make out shape and form, but the stirring magic immediately in front of him was familiar.

“Blue?” Molt whispered, but like Nightmare his magic felt just slightly off. The hope in his soul withered. He was surrounded by strangers.

“MWEH HEH HEH FEAR NOT STRANGE INTERDIMENSIONAL CITIZEN! WE ARE HERE TO SAVE THE DAY. NIGHTMARE! YOU WILL NOT GET AWAY WITH THIS!”

Whatever his brother’s mirror said in reply it was drowned out by noise.

“Wait.”

But his voice was too low. Too quiet. And his plea went ignored.

Too much happened at once after that. The Swap Sans launched himself into the fight. Light. Movement. A flash of white. Bones summoned then shattered by the furious sweep of a black arm. Nightmare’s strength was weakening. The balance had tipped. And battling three by himself? Nightmare couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

Most of the fight happened too fast for his barely stable eyelight to track.

So he did what he always did when the world around him became too chaotic to follow. He reached for the cold pitch of his brother’s magic. 

He followed the current of cold as it funneled into a singular point. Pushed back, and back again by a burning white star. Hope. Concentration. Concern for the other, yet the courage to see his actions through to the end. The familiarity of the magic here was disconcerting. But his head already ached something awful and he didn't think his nausea could get much worse. The phantom lashes he’d endured at Nightmare’s hand still burned. But... Nightmare. He felt his twin’s exhaustion, felt the unsteady slip to his heel, and his alternate was closing in now and—

The shortcut was rough. Poorly executed. And finding his balance on the balls of his feet was not fun. He raised his arm defensively, anticipating the attack seconds before, and found his hand closing around the pole of a golden staff. It smacked into his palm with a solid clank. It hurt only a little bit. His own magic absorbed the brunt of the blow to feed itself. To lessen some of his own pain. And staring into the wide eyes of his own face was... 

Dizzying. 

Everything was dizzying. 

That startled look melted into one of fear, and it didn’t make sense. His own rib cage hitched, sharing that fear second hand and then it dawned on him how this might look. Oh. He thought. …oh.

He released his counterpart's weapon and yanked his hand back. The other skeleton flash stepped out of reach, his soul pulsing with the rhythm of a terrified rabbit.

Within the pool of frigid cold at his back, he felt a spark of something that felt suspiciously like gratitude. Nightmare struggled to stand for a moment, winded, then laughed. The sound was not pleasant. “Recklessness must be a universal trait.”

“That’s enough,” Molt rasped. “Please. Just stop…”

“You should have taken my offer when you had the chance,” Nightmare sneered, words bitting. But more than anything, they felt defensive. The darkness pinched into a small, black star, and then he was gone.

“I SEE. WAS I MISTAKEN THEN? ARE YOU AND NIGHTMARE ALLIES?” Blue had taken a defensive stance beside his teammate. His weapon was drawn, but he didn’t move yet. His soul hummed with grim focus. The suspicion hurt. 

Molt struggled to speak for several precious seconds. Unsettled. He was reeling from the fight, from everything he had learned about this reality and the cruelty of his brother's words and actions and he was trying ever so hard not to let a tremble snake its way into his voice. It was very hard... to hear someone say those awful things in Rem’s voice.

He shook his head and said softly. “We aren’t.”

Blue’s brow furrowed. “THEN, WHY DID YOU DEFEND HIM? 

The words ‘because he is my brother?’ were on the edge of his teeth but the hostile edge to Blue’s magic and tone made him pause. It was less a question and more of an accusation. And that answer wouldn’t have been exactly true besides. 

The tendril on his back coiled defensively. 

He hadn’t stopped to think before he leapt in front of Nightmare. It hadn’t been a “should I or shouldn’t I” situation in his mind. In that moment he was unable to look past the pain and hurt his brother’s mirror was experiencing. In that moment, the distinction didn’t matter. He had to put a stop to it, that’s all. He couldn’t fight his brother. In any form he took. He just couldn’t do it. It reminded him of too much. And he couldn’t stand to watch that either. 

But how could he possibly explain that? 

A step behind his teammate, Dream was trying to calm down. Blue’s presence helped but he was struggling. Molt took a step back. He was causing someone pain and distress. He didn’t want that. Blue’s stance shifted. Bracing.

That felt like betrayal too. Molt swallowed something bitter behind his teeth and tried not to think of it that way. Ignored that small part of him that hissed and felt a little bit angry. It didn’t make sense. He knew the person in front of him wasn’t his friend.

“FRIEND, I WANT TO GIVE YOU THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT BUT... YOU ARE ACTING SUSPICIOUSLY.”

“I’ll leave,” Molt said. His head was pounding, and the last thing he wanted was to be dragged into another fight. “Wait...” Dream took a breath. “You’re hurt. Stay for a minute, let’s talk.” “DREAM IS RIGHT, POTENTIAL ENEMY OR NOT, IT WOULDN’T BE RIGHT TO LEAVE YOU THIS WAY. NOT TO FEAR HOWEVER, I AM ALWAYS PREPARED!” “It’s okay. I don’t need candy,” Molt said and felt vaguely like he was reading the lines of a script. If Rem or any of the others were here, they’d be calling his bluff. “Then, what do you need?”

“Somewhere calm, with hope. That’s all.”

The two exchanged a look. Surprise, suspicion, resignation, dread. “I SEE. SO YOU ARE LIKE DREAM THEN. BUT SURELY THAT'S NOT ENOUGH. I... I CANNOT SEEM TO CHECK YOU FOR SOME REASON, BUT YOU DO NOT LOOK WELL.”

Blue seemed to ask to Dream something silently. Concern. Suspicion. Acceptance. Dream sighed. “I know somewhere. It’ll be okay. We’ll be keeping an eye on him together, right? The place I’m thinking of is isolated so...”

“IT’S SETTLED THEN.” he finally dismissed his weapon, and Molt felt the tendrils on his back slowly lower. “SO THEN, NEW FRIEND, WHAT DO YOU SAY TO A TRUCE? WILL YOU COME WITH US?”

He gauged their intent for a moment. Rem had sometimes remarked that his empathy made him gullible. But Molt was tired, and sore, and aching. The others weren’t here. And he let them make decisions for him too much anyway. He hated to admit it but Nightmare was right. Dream wasn’t a physical threat to him. He was scared and trying so hard to be brave, and Molt was trying equally hard not to feel rattled.

“Okay,” he said.

Blue made a noise, something between acknowledgment and mild confusion. Dream offered a strained smile. He supposed they had a lot of questions.

[orange-artblog]

fnk week day 1 - crossover!!!!

its my new favourite game. with my old favourite game. yay!!!! (splatoon and undertale)

(Shiver!)Nightmare by Jokublog

(Frye!)Killer by rahafwabas

(Big Man!)Ccino by black-nyanko (?)

fluffynightkiller week by @help-im-a-gay-fish

hmmmmm………… just a small ramble:

I did base their designs mostly off of Deep Cut as I am working on a crossover too. it‘s been a month now and my understanding of Splatoon has been widened so I have some more ideas I didn‘t add into this original image :p

-Nm‘s clothes are metal/leather-type machinery built in to mimic his aura and emotion-enhancing abilities (of sorts? this was my original idea for it); he Could have them naturally but I thought having speakers and all on his design instead to enhance his voice and by that influence would be nice (I. would go into more detail but not rn XD)

-Despite Big Man being a manta ray, I made Ccino an inkling too, as I thought it would fit more into the group and all

-Yes, Nm is based off Shiver who did not work in the arms like (Marina!)Dream would have, but I have two crossovers and I (make the rules) believe he was an elite. Now, elites have the start of their tentacles typically be black, but I did see in official arts too that that could depend on the ink infused with them? it never happened in game so this is more of a headcanon now, but the start of the tentacles are black, just not for this image

-Killer just got some special ink to get his hair like that, inklings can‘t be elites since that‘s specifically just an octarian rank :3

-i made their fingers be dyed in their colours just like the Deep Cut (Nm -> Killer -> Ccino and then back around)

and also the full image (its just a few pixels more)

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Older Favourites: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week, we have a recurring theme to cap out the first month of the new year- Older Favourites! Check under the cut for 11 fics that are over a year old, and don't forget to comment and kudos if you like them!

Fundamental Forces Other Than Gravity by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi) (40676, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

A sweet collage AU one-shot where they are both a bit vulnerable and the m9 is its usual chaotic self.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Hold Me Close (But Not Too Sweet) by AnaliseGrey (5312, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

Dom Caleb gets Essek out of his head with ear clamps and oral sex.

Reccer says: I liked it!

multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance by mousecookie (10003, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb end up on the opposite side of Resonant Echo in a dangerous place.

Reccer says: Fascinating concept and interestingly written

only code it knows is rote survival by Chrome (12637, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

In a world where Trent makes it back to Eiselcross before the Nein do, Essek spends a night under the effects of the Feeblemind spell. Caleb undertakes a duty of care, and the Nein learn how Essek feels about them beneath everything.

Reccer says: Always love Feeblemind!Essek and this one is lovely in all the care the rest of the group gives

(perhaps i may) elaborate by demonstration by marsastronomica (10057, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Aeor flirting, flirting, flirting, and smut. Funny but loving.

Reccer says: This is one of my favs of all time. The characterization is great. A rare confident Essek. Tons of great lines too and the Nein are perfect.

we never do go over (we always gotta go through) by Chrome (17169, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

after a final battle with the Tombtakers, Five times Essek woke up with level(s) of exhaustion and one time he didn't.

Reccer says: It's so tender! An interesting take on a possible end to the arc and a wonderful demonstration for (the consequences of) Essek's power

Lay Your Bones by ladyorpheus (53587, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

The M9 rescue Essek, meet his brother, and muse on family.

Reccer says: One of the very first fics I read in this fandom and it's always stuck with me. A real ensemble M9 piece with shadowgast at its heart.

Like darkness to a dying flame by Sangreal (, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb Widogast, arcanist in the service of His Excellency, Prime Magister Ludinus Da’leth, and antiquarian at large, travels to the ancient city of Ghor Dranas in search of a powerful drowic vestige that he believes can help him turn back time. He finds his vestige... and something more.

Reccer says: So. This fic. It is a fever dream, a fantasy-warped nightmare. Art in text. Heavy like lead in your mouth. Fucked up and absolutely gorgeously written. I think about it like once a week still. (Eldritch horror-Essek and Caleb succumbing to obsession and tentacles.)

shrimp vision by nevenne (5662, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Humans can’t see in the dark. They see well in sunlight, however, and their eyes are exceptional for distinguishing color and depth. Drow can see at night, but more importantly, they can see in complete darkness as their eyes have accustomed to tracking the invisible heat radiating off objects and living flesh. There is a series of unfortunate complications to co-existing with a human arising from these facts.

Reccer says: It's funny and hot and there's some great drow biology in it!

Troublemaker by SaltCore (1309, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Kittens, while precious, do tend to cause problems on purpose. Good thing Essek is already smitten.

Reccer says: Amazingly sweet domestic fluff

learning all the old things by hanap (1353, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek cooks a meal for Caleb and himself.

Reccer says: It's super sweet and domestic

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with non-penetrative sex!

[forgettingcrowbin]

Haha here's an excerpt on the first draft of the Unclemare au I'm working on! It gets worse before it gets better haha :) (tw: violence, blood)

(Palette is running away from Nightmare's gang in a forest and just tripped.)

Before Palette could even think about running away again, sharp bones ripped through his clothing. It pinned his arm and scarf against the tree. He screamed out in pain when he felt one bone pierce next to his femur. His mind was racing too fast. He almost felt sick. Nausea circled his ribcage as his skull spun and he slammed into the trunk of the tree behind him.

Blue attacks slipped through his bones and he gasped at the feeling of the magic attack. He couldn’t move an inch lest he hurt himself any further. His panic surely could not have spiked any further until he heard a voice call out through the trees.

“We got him boss! Little sucker was all alone~!” a voice sang out with what Palette assumed was malicious intent. He noticed the skeletons come into view, all versions of Sans that held an air of negativity around them. Piercing spikes of fear lanced through his body as he looked around at the Sans'.

The one throwing knives had a smiling face with pitch black tears that consistently dripped from his skull, he recalled what his father had told him and narrowed him down to Killer. He could tell the giant skeleton was Horror, from the giant red eye light and gaping hole in his head. Colorful paint was splashed on his face from the attack that Palette had done while running, and it made the monster look a little less intimidating than he expected. The last one was in a hoodie that completely covered any indicators to what his face looked like, except for an eye light that glowed red and blue. It mixed into a cacophony of swirls that created dark indigo and dull purple spikes of magic. He assumed this monster was the last of the gang, Dust. Tears ran down his face when he faced reality. He was totally caught now.

Although nothing could have prepared him to come face to face with the Lord of negativity lurking beyond the trees. His breath locked up when a branch got snapped away with a sharp tentacle. It cut through the young tree like butter, leaving the branches and leaves beginning to crumble away in darkness. He felt something awful and suffocating circle around them all and knew it was the negative aura he had sensed.

The calamitous figure was tall and covered by an oily tar that dragged down every surface of his body. His one eye light held an eerie cyan glow that illuminated the shadows of the sludge that clung to the dying wildlife around him. His cloak draped around him which showed his impeccable posture, and the silver circlet that spiked upwards in the middle gleamed with the cyan glow of his eye. In all his negative glory was his uncle, Nightmare.

“Well, well, well… What do we have here? Little Palette, was it? The little pest I've been searching for all these years. My, look how tall you've grown since the last I've seen you!" His uncle crouched down to his level, his tentacles that once were waving around predatorial were carefully lowered to the ground. His smile was wicked, a grin that stretched across his skull showing off his bright canines. His sharp phalanges reached out and Palette flinched away in fear of what his uncle had in store. The hand reached out again and was confused when he was met with the frigid hand softly landing on his cranium.

Palette was shivering in confusion when he stuttered out any response that he could get out. “U-uncle Nightmare! This was a huge mistake, I didn’t mean to get in your... uh... way! I just came here to take a little breather and then I was going to return home.” 

Nightmare smiled, his grin causing shivers to rise up Palette’s vertebrae. “Well great job on choosing the au we were planning to attack next-!” Killer sang out in joy as Dust slapped the back of his skull to shut him up. Nightmare chose to ignore his lackeys behind him and began to slowly turn Palette's skull to observe every inch of his face.

“Well, dearest Nephew, we were hoping to seize some good subsistence from this au, but it seems like we’ve caught something even more refreshing.” Nightmare’s tentacles suddenly snapped up and grabbed Palette at any inch they could. They ripped him up through the blue attacks causing a scream to escape from Palette’s mouth. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks and he tried to breathe and failed. “Let’s have some fun dear nephew, that incompetent father of yours kept you from me for far too long.” The last thing that Palette managed to see before he slipped into unconsciousness was the cruel expression that graced upon his kin’s face.

[amandacanwrite]

The Violet Thread of Fate ||

Reluctant Mentor Gale x Unskilled Wizard F!Tav

Length || About 4,000 Words

POV || Dual Narration, Third Person

Warnings || Descriptions of viscera, age gap (about ten years, both adults)

Summary || After waking up on the craggy shoreline of the sword coast, Elinna and Gale reunite with a new common ground.

A/n || I am feeling sort of on the fence about Gale's eagerness in his attraction to Elinna, but I also feel like it's still at least somewhat in character for him--after all in any playthrough you can wind up being blindsided by his feelings for you since he is usually so subtle about his affections. I also just think it's so fun to get the internal narration of Gale's attraction. He always seems so put together, polite and proper. I just love to see a man precariously balancing his carnal desires with his conscience and desire to be a good man. I hope you like it, I know things feel a little slow right now, but I'm planning on taking some creative liberties in the next couple parts. Please also lemme know what you think if you read it! I am absolutely tinkerbell and need the dopamine to live

Chapter Two: A Nightmare, An Awakening

Read Part One Here • Join Tag List Here

A Nightmare

Elinna thought she had died; thought the disintegration of her bodily form was the end of her short, unremarkable life. Much to her surprise, though when her vision once again returned to her she realized she had merely been spirited away somehow.

It took a few moments for her eyes to properly focus. When they finally did, she almost wished that the contact with the tentacle had killed her. It would have been far preferable to where she had wound up.

She found herself locked in a great chitinous pod, looking through smeared membranous glass at what she could only suppose was the nautiloid she had tried to escape from. 

Yes…death would have been a far preferable fate to becoming a mindless thrall on a mindflayer ship. As she squinted through the clear panel in front of her and saw what appeared to be a brain walking on four spindly limbs, she realized that her fate could be even worse than regular enthrallment. 

The minutes she spent entrapped in the pod felt like hours. A miserable limbo of wondering what would be coming next for her. What if she was already marked for turning into an intellect devourer? What if the enthrallment had already been put in place and she could simply be ordered to do something whenever a mindflayer so wished it?

She couldn’t just stay here. She had to move.

She tried, in vain, to wrench her arms free of the fleshy brindings within the pod. The sinuous tendrils only tightened more and more, leaving her fingertips throbbing and tingling from the blood flow being cut off. She tried to move her feet next and her boots sloshed in some sort of viscera at the base of the pod. She did her best not to vomit as the viscera eked some ichorous fluid into the fibers of her clothing and through the porous leather of her soft-soled shoes. 

The last thing she needed in addition to all of this was to be covered in the contents of her own stomach–empty as it was.

The shock of panic cinched tight around her ribcage, making it hard to breathe. And as she struggled to get her lungs to fill, she also struggled to think. 

“Calm down, Elinna,” she told herself. “Think about what you’ve read. Think about what you know.”

What did she know about Illithids? They were hivemind organisms. They required high-moisture, high-humidity environments to protect the mucosal membranes of their skin. They primarily fed on the brains of their prey and used psionic energy not only to fight but to control their biomechanical machinery. 

She craned her head forward to look for some sort of control panel–something that could get her out of this cocoon of horror. 

As she did, a valve-like door opened on the far side of the room, revealing a dizzying network of corridors. And…and one of them. A mind flayer. 

Elinna went dizzy as her heart thumped in her temples. She watched in horror and sickly anticipation as it levitated toward something in the center of the room; a cistern of sorts from what she could see. It waved a four-fingered hand and the vessel opened, revealing a golden, glowing brine pool that may have been beautiful if Elinna didn’t know precisely what it was. 

The mindflayer coaxed one of those disgusting tadpoles out of the amber liquid and levitated over to Elinna’s pod. She recoiled away from it as the pod opened, turning her face away from the creature and squeezing her eyes shut. She knew exactly how mindflayers reproduced, and she was not interested in getting a first hand experience with ceremorphosis. 

She didn’t have much of a choice, though. Even without the parasite, the illithid was able to compel her to stillness. 

It was an atrocious violation of her agency; surreal and nightmarish in the worst ways. Her mind was fully intact as the creature made her muscles release the tension they held and coerced her eyes to open. Her body was still and calm, but her heart was racing like a trapped rabbit’s. She watched uselessly as the tiny creature floated closer to her. She cried to cry out as it latched onto the orb of her eye and started to wriggle and squirm until it could find purchase beneath her eyelid. 

She was silent. Infuriatingly, horribly silent as the creature continued to burrow its way into her skull. 

Her pulse hammered in her ears as she screamed inside her own body, begging herself to fight, to tear her own eye out rather than let the process of ceremorphosis take place. 

But her body was still as the tiny parasite worked its way into her eye socket and back into her brain. 

Elinna lost consciousness as she felt the unsettling pressure of her brain matter being displaced to accommodate her unwelcome guest. 

When she awoke next, she didn’t immediately know where she was. She only knew that it was loud and it was cold. The sound of air ripping past her pointed ears is what brought her back into full consciousness, and though her eyes were open, she wasn’t actually seeing at first. 

There was a vast expanse of stars above her, the smell of salty air, the lingering cling of something far more acrid–like the smell of burnt sulfur woven into her clothes. 

She tried to parse what was going on, it felt like she was sinking into the ocean–but if that were the case, shouldn’t she not be able to breathe? 

Then she saw the burning wreckage of the Nautiloid and everything came back to her. 

The travel to Waterdeep, the encounter with Mr. Dekarios, the parasite and…

And she was falling through the sky! 

“Not again!” she cried as she stared at the ground rising to meet her with startling velocity. “No, no, no! I will not–This is not how I die!”

It didn’t go very well the last time, but it wasn’t as if she had any other ideas of what to do. She scoped out the approaching shoreline, selecting one spot and earmarking it. After choosing a point on a craggy cliffside, she shut her eyes and tried to gulp in a breath before it was whipped out of her mouth. 

“Inveniam Viam!” she shouted. 

That strange, surreal feeling of not moving, yet being in a different place came again, only this time it was followed very quickly by the feeling smashing into the ground beneath her, square onto her back. It wasn’t a far drop, perhaps only a few feet, but it was enough to hurt her. She blinked up at the sky above her, the glow of the stars somewhat dampened by the flaming wreckage of the nautiloid as it loudly crashed into the earth just a few moments after her.

She ached as she stood and looked out over the cliffside she’d misty stepped to, seeing the vast expanse of an unfamiliar coast crawling with intellect devourers and the blazing with fires choking out great plumes of black smoke. She dropped to her knees, feeling utterly defeated. 

She had no idea where she was. She had no money. No food. Not even a change of clothes with her. She didn’t even know where she was–and she knew she was more than a little directionally challenged. 

Her keepers at The Scribes Nest had told her not to leave; had warned her that there were dangers in the world. That she couldn’t hope to survive on the knowledge she’d amassed from books alone. That the lives of wizards often ended in folly. 

She knew this, of course. She’d read extensively about every wizard she could find and more than half of them were done in by their own curiosity. 

But the ones who hadn’t been rendered themselves undone…they were amazing. Elminster and Blackstaff. Lorroikan and Sammaster. Karsus and Dekarios.

Wait….

Gale Dekarios–he’d been touched by the tentacles, too!

And if she hadn’t died, then that meant he probably hadn’t either. If she could find him, if she could just appeal to him for one favor…maybe he could help her get back to Waterdeep. Maybe she would have an opportunity to prove to him that she could be a good apprentice; that she was worth the trouble of taking on as a student. Maybe he would know how to get rid of the tadpole squirming in her brain. 

But none of that would happen if she just sat there on her knees and despaired. 

She would need to get back up and put one bloody boot in front of the other. 

She would have to be brave and she would have to trust that Mystra would guide her to what came next. 

An Awakening

Hells…it just had to be a pocket dimension that saved him, didn’t it?

They were tricky little things–a slice of wild magic that functioned like an oubliette; a place to put things to be forgotten, or to be summoned at a different point in time. He’d used a few in his time, but never for more than storage during travel or to hide the occasional failed potion. He’d thought once that he might use one when it was clear that the orb would no longer be sated by the magic artifacts he consumed; discussed the idea with Tara before she requested not to speak of it until necessary. 

“I don’t like think of that eventuality, Mr. Dekarios,” Tara had said to him. “I know I tend to be pragmatic…but it makes me far too sad.”

“Focus,” he scolded himself as he looked around the darkened pocket. He needed to find an opening–or at least find a way to make one, failing that. 

It was a mistake that he’d even ended up in one in the first place. A mistake that stemmed from the first mistake when he’d tried to help that girl. 

If he’d had any sense, he would have let her run and gone straight to help his mother and make sure Tara would be okay. He could only hope that they were still safely nestled at his childhood home in Waterdeep. At least he’d not seen either of them during his wanderings about the ship. 

But then the spelljammer had lurched and started falling out of the sky, and he’d grabbed onto the strongest strand of weave he could find and followed it here. The unfortunate side of that, of course, was that the strength of that thread is precisely what made this particular pocket realm exceedingly hard to get out of. And the parasite so rudely deposited into his brain was not doing wonders for his ability to concentrate. 

He held his hands up and closed his eyes, attempting to feel out the strands of weave in this darkened place. Wherever he’d been transported to, it felt very far away from Mystra indeed. Like whatever reality he’d blipped into was one almost entirely devoid of magic at all. 

He focused a bit harder, the tadpole in his head wriggling with the effort. He continued to focus, trying not to think too hard about the unnerving sensation. Finally, with some challenge, he managed to pool some magic together. It felt similar to trying to collect enough morning dew on a leaf to drink.

There came a crackle, then a tear. Not nearly large enough to fit himself entirely through, but enough that he could get an arm out. 

Perhaps with at least one hand in Faerun, he could channel whatever remaining weave he needed to fully escape this dark corner of nothing. 

A sheen of perspiration shone on his brow as he felt around outside of the oubliette. He could feel the familiar moisture of coastal air and it sent a wave of relief through him. He wasn’t far from Waterdeep at all, then. Or at least he’d hoped as much. 

Perhaps he could just appear on the main road and hurry straight to his mother to make sure that she and Tara were alright. 

He was trying to grasp onto the weave when he suddenly felt the soft, almost tentative brush of fingertips on the palm of his hand. 

A person! Perfect! There was no better way to anchor a teleportation spell than to another living soul. It would be a little complex to explain that, though, and he was sure a mysterious arm poking out of wherever he could reach was more than a little unnerving so he settled for simplicity instead. 

“Hello?!” He called through the tear in the fabric of space and time. “Is anyone there? A hand? Please?”

He felt the hand withdraw for a moment, then it returned with what he assumed was the person’s other hand. One closed tightly around his fingers, the other grasped a bit higher, accompanied by the sensation of fingertips curling into the fabric of his sleeve. Small, gentle hands. Not small enough to be a child–but perhaps a woman. 

He closed his eyes once more and took a deep breath, allowing himself to feel the energy of the stranger on the other side of the opening. He tapped into it, smelling the faint, sweetly lactic scent of peaches; tasting on the tip of his tongue the light flavor of…honeyscotch candy. If Mystra’s energy was violet in color…this energy was the color of the sky during sunrise…a gradient of lilac, rose and cerulean.

Pretty… he thought to himself before slamming the heel of his hand to his brow. 

Focus you touch-starved buffoon.

“Whatever you’re doing is working wonders!” he said encouragingly. “I think if you just give me a good pull, I should come right out!”

The stranger pulled and he joined that effort by pushing himself through from the other side with what remained of that pooled bit of magic he’d gathered together. 

Finally, he flew out of the pocket realm like a cork from a bottle, regrettably landing right on top of the poor woman who had helped him. 

He was quick to shift his weight so he didn’t put the entirety of his considerable heft on the poor thing. Yet, his creaky knees slowed him down when it came to properly getting up. Then again…he couldn’t deny a certain reluctance to rise. He hated to admit it, and if anyone ever asked him he would deny it to the grave…but it was pleasant to feel the soft curves of a woman against him. A year was such a long time to be without it, and to feel warmth beneath him again…

It was a lascivious thought not becoming of a gentleman, he remembered, but one that occurred almost automatically much to his chagrin. 

“Hells,” he said. “Forgive me miss. I’m usually much better at this–and usually not so long sedentary that my limbs can’t keep up with my manners. Allow me to–”

He lifted himself up onto his elbows and finally laid eyes on his savior. 

It was the girl from before. What was the name? Elinna Inklynn. 

She stared up at him with wide eyes and a face flushed with exertion. How hard had she needed to work to pull him out of that portal? Seeing her so close now, he picked up on some of the qualities he’d missed in the dim light of the Waterdhavian evening. 

A constellation of mauve-tinged freckles dusted across her flushed nose and cheeks. In the daylight, her skin was almost pale pink. The soft swell of her lips sat slightly parted with a look of surprise. And her eyes…my those eyes were something to behold. Verdant as a sprig of mint and flecked with gold as if she had a vein of ore curling through the irises of her eyes. 

“A-allow me to help you up,” he finally stammered. “You’re not hurt are you?”

“Not by you,” she said somewhat breathlessly. 

He grunted slightly as he got back onto his feet, now allowing himself to think of the way her soft curves shifted beneath him. He reached a hand down and helped her back up to her feet as well, dusting off her theadbare apron and her slightly puffed sleeves. She was still flushed–perhaps dehydration or fever…or…

“You haven’t happened to have been on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region, have you?” he asked. 

The flush could be a sign of the beginning stages of ceremorphosis. 

“I couldn’t have phrased it more repellently myself,” Elinna replied. 

“No use sugarcoating it, is there?” he asked with a smirk. “I don’t suppose you know what these little passengers will cause if left to their own devices?”

“Ceremorphosis,” she answered without missing a beat. “At least–if we don’t get it handled in a few days…”

Well, color him surprised. 

It wasn’t very often that ceremorphosis was talked about among the common man–it was even hard to find books detailing the finer details of the process. The girl may have been a poor magician, but she was clearly learned.

“Suffice to say, it is a process that should be avoided,” he said. 

“Agreed,” she said. 

It occurred to him that she was behaving…a bit stiff; almost aloof. The young woman he’d encountered in front of his tower had a bit more fire to her than this one did. Then again, they’d just gone through quite the harrowing experience. Both of them were covered in mysterious viscera, they’d been taken hostage on a mindflayer ship and well–the poor girl did just have a strange older man on top of her. 

The girl bit down on her lower lip and he found his eyes unconscionably glued to her mouth. She released her lower lip and he watched as the pale pink color returned to it, wondering idly what it would feel like to–

“Are we just—are we just going to pretend that I didn’t beg you to take me on as an apprentice and that you quite sumerilly told me to bugger off?” she asked. “Are we just going to be compatriots now?”

He blinked down at her, his mind catching up with her words. 

Good gods, he really was behaving like a lech. He didn’t know where this was coming from. Perhaps it was an undocumented symptom of ceremorphosis–this…uncommon desire he was feeling. 

Or maybe he was just, well, desperate. 

“Well, I take umbrage with that analysis. I don’t believe I told you to bugger off…At least not verbatim. I do try to not be a miserable ass,” Gale said a bit sheepishly. “But I hasten to point out that we do have a shared problem now–some common ground we didn’t have before. It seems wasteful to part ways at a juncture such as this, don’t you think?”

He looked around in the early morning daylight and frowned realizing that he didn’t recognize anything. “I certainly don’t know the area after all, and judging by the history you disclosed with me, you likely don’t either.”

“Well…no, I don’t. Aside from Waterdeep I’ve not been anywhere other than the Moonshae Islands.” she said. 

“And you seem to not have a very strong sense of location judging by our time in the alleyways,” he pointed out. 

“That’s true…so then… does that mean you’ll do it?” she asked. “You’ll take me on as your student?”

He grimmaced.

“No,” he said with not a moment’s hesitation. “Not a student–an ally. An equal. It’s best that we tackle this issue together, don’t you think? It makes no sense to travel separately when our searching will likely lead us to the same places. And besides that…”

Besides that, if he started to change into a mindflayer, he wanted to be sure he had someone nearby who could…put him out of his misery and get his body somewhere safe before it leveled a city. 

“But I could be more helpful if you teach me,” she pleaded. “I’d just be a liability without your help.”

“I have seen your magic,” Gale said with a bit of a teasing gaze. “And I don’t know if there is much I can do for someone who casts Misty Step with their eyes closed. It seems you’d be more of a liability with the magic than without.”

She blinked up at him like he’d grown a second head. 

“Oh, please,” he said. “You must know that it’s a spell that requires a clear line of sight.”

She shrank a bit. “I…didn’t know. No,” she said. 

“How could you not know such a thing? You must have read a scroll to learn the incantation,” he said. 

“I mean this with the utmost respect, but when is the last time you’ve read a scroll, Mr. Dekarios?”

He inhaled, lifting an index finger. Then he closed his mouth and looked off to the side. 

When was the last time? It must have been ages. 

“Well,” she said without waiting for his answer. “Most spell scrolls assume a certain basis of classical training, or at minimum an innate understanding of how to channel the weave.”

“I see,” he said. “I’m to assume you’re not a sorceress then?”

“Not to my knowledge,” she said with a sigh.

He clenched his jaw as he looked down at the younger woman. Gods, she really did need a teacher. Maybe he could at least talk to her about theory–or give her a few simple exercises for manipulating the–

No. No. 

He had more than enough on his plate without adding a poorly self-taught mage to it.

���Elinna,” he said. “Tell you what. I have a deal to offer–a concession if your like. If we make it through this and…make it out of wherever we are and back to Waterdeep, I promise I will introduce you to some colleagues that will help you get your start as a novice wizard. How does that sound? Fair?”

To his great surprise, she still looked disappointed by that answer. The girl really was an ambitious thing–coming right to his tower to seek his tutelage and no one else's? The poor girl had no idea what she was trying to sign herself up for; a depressed, anti-social, explosive wizard. A depressed, anti-social, explosive and impatient wizard. As far as teachers went, he was not the best candidate for the job.  

“Alright,” she finally said. “Let’s see if we can go find a healer together…or maybe some other survivors…of a bath.”

“Oh, to find a bath,” Gale agreed. “Ah, but–before you think you’re journeying with most ill mannered a man–”

Gale gave the young woman a slight bow. “Thank you for pulling me out of that stone.”

When he stood up to his full height again, the young woman was smiling at him, her pretty viridian eyes crinkling at the edges. She tucked a pale copper strand of hair behind one of her delicately pointed ears and looked a bit sheepishly down the craggy shore. 

“Ah–it’s almost a dead end over here–I think there might be more ground to cover if we cross through the wreckage…but I didn’t want to do that on my own,” she said. 

“A wise choice, I think,” Gale said. “No telling what you would have run into. Not to imply that you can’t hold your own, of course–”

“No, you’re right,” she said, looking away from him a little timidly. “I’ll feel better with you there–it’s nice to have a friend.”

He huffed a soft breath and found himself smiling at how willing she was to call him her friend.  Even after all the ways he had been a bit of an oaf to her, he felt in her he had found a bit of a kindred spirit. Someone else who sought camaraderie in perhaps…unworthy places.

 She looked up at him and bit the swell of her lower lip again. “Shall we go then?” she asked him. 

He gestured to the road ahead. “After you,” he said with a magnanimous smile. “Consider me your ever faithful guard dog, ready at the first sign of trouble.”

She snorted a little laugh and shook her head. 

And as he followed after her, for the first time in the last year, he hoped the pang in his chest was because of the orb.

Taglist || @auroraesmeraldarose @thoughts-of-bear @cherifrog @puckprimrose @drabblesandimagines

[forestglade]

Had to get this idea out of my brain. You know how in those 'Feral Skelebro's on an Island' fics there's never Nightmare and his gang? I wrote a prologue to a fic where Dream and Ink trap them on an island to avoid killing them. It's under the cut and anyone can do whatever they want with it (if you copy it word for word for an actual fic I'd like credit though)

-‐-------------------------------------------------------------------

Dream really didn't like this idea. Sure, it would certainly keep his brother and his gang from causing trouble, but it just... Really didn't feel right. Even the reassurances from Ink and Blue didn't do much to sway him into agreeing with this idea. However... The destruction and the casualties of bystanders were waying on him. With each encounter, more and more humans and monsters were getting hurt. More death, more destruction, all to those who were none the wiser to he and his brothers ongoing war. If he could put aside his morals, just this once... They had a chance to finally stop the suffering and random attacks on innocent AU's.

The preparation would take weeks, and a lot of Dream's energy, but he hoped it would be worth the trouble. He had to find an AU that was overwhelmingly positive, and then foster even more positivity. He couldn't let his brother get any strength from the AU around him for this to work. Then, it was Ink's turn. An island out in the remote area of the ocean they could find, as far from land and any human or monster as possible. He didn't want to risk anyone coming across his brother's group. Once the strenuous preparations were done, the Stars had to actually capture their enemies.

******************************************

Nightmare had a good feeling at the start of their current mission, but as soon as his brother showed up his good mood soured. This wasn't unusual, of course, howevee... This time it felt off. His brother was much more stiff in his movements and nearly even stumbled a few times. It would have been funny if the strange feeling in the back of his skull wasn't there. Dream was also being much more aggressive than usual despite his strange movements, which really didn't sit well with him.

Really, it was his own fault for letting himself get cornered by Dream. He had been much too focused on his brother when he really should have been focusing on the fact that they were getting farther and farther from the others. He really should have been able to notice Ink had gone missing fairly soon into their fight as well, and he was kicking himself even as the sharp pain of... Something pierced his Soul. It wasn't anything that would kill him, of course. It hadn't had that sting of positivity that came with Dream's attacks, but anything sharp hitting his Soul still hurt like a bitch.

He cursed and snarled even as he felt himself start sinking to the ground, darkness starting to ebb into the edges of his vision. The tentacles behind him lashed out until his vision faded, slowly lowering to the ground around him. He hated that the last thing he saw was a look of pitty on his brother's face, a tentacle twitching with the urge to lash out at the other before his vision finally faded away.

The first thing Nightmare felt when he woke up was an overwhelming, oppressive positivity. At least, oppressive to him. It grated on his corruption and made him feel much too warm. It didn't help that the sun was beating down on him, and the sand beneath him felt like it was burning. He winced as he pushed himself to sit up before setting his face in his usual angry frown. He was quick to glance around, finding himself on a beach. With so much positivity he wouldn't be able to pinpoint if Dream was there, but for the moment it seemed it was just him and his boys.

He was quick to stand, brushing off the sand as he took in where they had been dumped. He knew they were in a different AU, but he had no way of telling which one. The pure positivity he could feel radiating around him kept him from being able to reach out and feel anything farther than the island they were on. He huffed, walking over to where his men lay in the sand, grabbing each with a tentacle before lifting and shaking them awake.

Nightmare snarled as he woke them up, then dropped them. He ignored their shenannigans, watching as Killer started running around to bother Dust and Horror. Normally he would stop it, but the irritation coming from them was a relief. He examined the area just a bit closer, noticing some sort of barrier. It seemed to circle the island, going above it as well. He hummed, snatching Killer by a leg before flinging him. He watched as the skeleton smacked into the barrier a minute or so later before falling down into the water.

He let out an irritated growl, turning the give Dust and Horror the order to start exploring for any clues on how they got there, or any possible ways to escape. He went on his own way to try and figure out what was going on, aiming to find the source of the positivity on the island. If he could get rid of that barrier, then he and his gang could go cause some chaos. At least enough that he could get them out of this AU.

It would take days for him to find what seemed to be the source of that barrier, a large cavern full of bright, yellow crystals. He was quick to wrap a tentacle around one, ignoring the burn as he started to pump it full of negativity. He grinned as it slowly, slowly started darkening. He knew it would take... A very long time. He was certain the other three would be able to manage without him while he worked. Out here in the middle of nowhere they could fight and destroy as much as they wanted.

The first time Horror had trapped something, it was strange to him. It looked like a normal deer, and it tasted like a normal deer, however... The blood was an inky black. It didn't hurt him to eat though, and it was full of magic, which was good. Apparently, the barrier was very good at surpressing their magic, but he hadn't noticed. He didn't have much magic left anyway, but he could tell Killer and Dust were getting irritated and pent up. He could even see the physical effects of them being unable to use their magic.

Horns, sharp tails and claws, fangs, and they were even becoming more aggressive with each other. It didn't help that he hadn't seen Nightmare since the first day, even if he could feel that he was still there... Somewhere.

It would be months before the final crystal turned dark, and Nightmare was exhausted. He grinned as he made his way back out of the cave before frowning. He could see that the barrier was still there, and as strong as ever. It seemed the only thing that had happened was that all the plants seemed... Wilted, and barely surviving.

He snarled as his tentacles lashed angrily behind him. He paced, his claws twitching and digging at his good socket. He really had no idea what to do next.

Months went by, then turned to years. Every so often a human or monster would get tossed onto their island to keep them busy. They would be lucky to end up in Horror's territory. He would at least make their death quick.

The worst would be if they managed to survive until making it to the base of the mountain. Nightmare had ended up taking over that area, the shadows seemingly alive. Anyone that made it there would be caught in the shadows and dragged up to the cavern, their screams ringing out for days as Nightmare attempted to get as much negativity from them as possible before finally killing them.

[mythicalmyles]

Hide and seek with predator prey thingy?

With Slendy? Or Offenderman?(if you write for him)

(maybe both? Jabxhdjsns thats asking abit too much aint it?)

Maybe when he catches (name), he breeds him full?

Maybe he would also degrade (name) a bit? Telling them how they are such a pathetic, but delicious little morsel?

👉👈

.

- 🐺

Decided offender since i aint written for him yet<3

Noncon, teasing, overstim

(Name) honestly knew it had been game over the moment he stepped inside of the woods, the feeling of being watched had his hair standing on end all night. He’d lost the path a while ago and hadn’t been able to find it, he couldn’t remember even when he’d lost it. Suddenly he had looked down and just no more path. He felt like he’d been looking for hours, his mind ticking with each passing minute.

His chest felt compressed and he had the odd feeling like he was being hunted, he didn’t have anything bigger then a fox in the woods and they wouldn’t bother. But his hearing was sharp and alert as he made his way through the dense trees, a feeling of doom had him pausing before a yell was ripped from him.

Something wrapped around his chest and dragged him through the bushes and around trees, the speed dazing him when he was abruptly stopped. Horror filled him as he registered what was in his vision, an eldritch horror filled nightmare stood before him. He would’ve screamed if not for the tentacle that shot around his neck, cutting off air flow.

(Name) couldn’t breath and his head began to get fuzzy, mind swirling as the white being cocked its head at him. “So pathetic, can’t even find your way out of the woods. Such a shame.” It’s voice echoed through (Names) head, his body froze as more tentacles began wrapping around him, keeping him spread open. (Name) whimpered, trying to wriggle but failing as it was strong.

“You were so easy to catch, it was almost unfair.” The sound of his sweats tearing filled his hearing, wide eyes staring at the terrifying being. “Such a pretty little thing.” (Name) whimpered as he felt something press against his home, rubbing against him and drawing choked sounds from him. He desperately wriggled in the beings hold, its appendages tight on his flesh. “S-s-.” A tentacle wrapped itself around his mouth, the only sounds being muffled.

(Name) froze as the tentacle finally slid inside of him, his body locking up as his mind blanked. He couldn’t stop himself from moaning as the tentacle inside of him began twisting and fucking him, his body arched as he felt its appendages slide over his body. They teased him by sliding across his nipples and wrapping around his cock, squeezing and playing with him.

The being took its hat off, hanging it on a tree as it smirked at the sight of its prey loosing his mind as he was played with. (Name) felt his mind drift as his body relaxed, allowing another tentacle to slid into him and ripping a loud moan from him.

Ecstasy filled (Names) body, every slid of the tentacles against his prostate driving him further into his mind. He had no chance of escape, instead choosing to just allow what was happening. His hips mindlessly rode the tentacles, barley registering he was even doing it. The tentacles kept a tight grip but allowed more movement the more submissive he became.

“Might just keep you, a pretty little lap dog.” It chuckled, its voice sending every hair on (Names) body standing on end. His desperate eyes gazed at the being, his orgasm fast approaching. It removed its tentacle from his mouth, instead wrapping it loosely around his neck.

(Name) gulped as moans poured from him, the tentacles inside him slamming deep. “Good boy, moan for me.” (Name) shook, his eyes rolling back as he came. His body completely relaxed into Offenders hold as he rode out his high. “I want to see that delicious face again.” It smirked as another tentacle slid into him and they sped up, thrusting fast inside of him. (Name) practically wept as he felt his cock begin hardening again, his body shaking. “Plea-please.” (Name) hiccuped out only to recieve a chuckle and a particularly violent thrust.

“You can take it.” A large smirk covered its face, sharp teeth filling (Names) vision. It didn’t take much longer to draw another orgasm from him, his voice hoarse as he screamed. (Name) couldn’t think, the tentacles still fucking him and stretching him out. “Tonight will be a fun night.” It chuckled, voice rumbling throughout the forest.

[foxgloves-and-inky-caps]

Behind him, there was a loud click, and something cold was pressed against his back.

"Hand over your wallet."

Ccino froze, SOUL hammering in his chest. Hot, shaky breath washed over him, rasping loudly in his ear hole.

"I said," snapped the human, jabbing the gun between his shoulder blades, "Hand. Over. Your. Wallet."

Slowly, scarcely daring to breathe, Ccino reached into his pocket with a trembling hand.

"Good." The human seemed almost unsure, their voice betraying a hint of nervousness, but the weapon they were pointing at him was very much real and dangerous. "Now -"

Their words cut off with a choked gasp, and the cool threat of gunmetal was torn from Ccino's back.

A familiar baritone came hissing through the darkness, dangerously calm, every word laced with barely-veiled threat. "Drop the gun."

Relief flooded through Ccino, and he quickly looked back to see Nightmare, one of his tentacles holding up the human by the neck, his cyan eye blazing. The human was writhing, caught in midair, their fingers scrabbling against the tentacle as they struggled to breathe. The gun fell from their hand, clattering to the ground.

Nightmare's eyelight slid to Ccino, his tone softening. "Are you alright?"

Ccino nodded, not quite trusting his voice.

Footsteps sounded above them, and a figure dropped down from the rooftops, landing in a crouch with a knife already in his hand. He quickly straightened, scanning the scene around him. "What did I miss?"

"Killer," Nightmare ordered, shoving Ccino's attacker at his second-in-command.

Killer caught the struggling human easily, locking an arm around them to hold them in place. The human took a few deep, gasping breaths, then opened their mouth to yell out, only to be silenced by the cold press of metal against their throat.

"Nuh-uh-uh," Killer purred. "Not a good idea, pal."

The human's breath quickened, a small whimper escaping their lips.

"Sshhh," Killer whispered to them, a smirk hovering on his face. "Wouldn't want me to slip, now would we?" His knife dug a little further into their skin, coaxing a few bright beads of blood from the wound.

Ccino stared at his two boyfriends, frozen in place. They were always protective of him, and he had just been held at gunpoint, but... the human looked so scared, their eyes wide, their chest heaving in short, sharp gasps as blood dripped down their neck. They were young, too, despite their dirty clothes and the weapon they'd pointed at him. Barely even an adult.

They're younger than Presso.

He managed to get the words past the dry lump in his throat. "I'm f-fine, really. Y-you don't need to..."

Killer gave him a slash of a smile, still holding the human at knifepoint. "Sorry, sugar, but this one needs to pay."

Cold, goop-covered arms enveloped Ccino, and he let Nightmare tuck his head into his shoulder. In the cool darkness, he could pretend to ignore the two simultaneous squelching noises, the panicked breaths abruptly going silent, the thump as something heavy hit the pavement. He could ignore the steady drip of a liquid he knew would be a deep, awful red.

A moment later, a warm, solid mass was at Ccino's back, rough hands running gently over his shoulders. "It's alright," Killer murmured, arms slipping around Ccino's waist. "They can't hurt you anymore."

Ccino leant back into his boyfriend's comforting warmth, Nightmare's tentacles wrapping around both of them. This was familiar. This was safe. As long as he didn't see the red, he could dismiss the damp, sticky stains soaking into his jumper beneath Nightmare's tentacles. As long as he didn't spot Killer's eyesockets, dark and empty, he could ignore the dangerous edge to his voice.

As long as he kept his eyes closed, it would all be okay

[derangedanomaly]

As a celebration to New Year, I decided to mush this thing up in a matter of...few minutes?? Don't know how long this took me.

I'm still working on your requests, but I thought I'd get a break and do this for a change! I can't thank you enough for your support! I love writing, and seeing you guys liking my stories is very heartwarming, thank you!

Enjoy this silly story :)

NEW YEAR's KISS

UNDERTALE AU's x Reader

"GUYS! IT'S GONNA BE NEW YEAR SOON!" You kicked open the door, going towards everyone in the, exclusively large, living room. "Wow, I can't believe it's 2024 already." Ink exclaimed, taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah! Y/n, come on, let's get some drinks!" Swap flashed you his famous smile as you went towards him.

You hosted a big party for the New Year, and everyone arrived! There was Dream, Ink, Swap, Sans, Fell, Killer, Horror, Dust, Cross, Error, Fresh, Dance, Epic, Science, Berry, Reaper, even NIGHTMARE came. And that's saying a lot.

You really don't know how you all can fit inside your living room, but it's better to not question it...

As you and Swap went to retrieve drinks, Fell and the others were cooking up a plan of their own...

Fell went in the middle of the room. "ALRIGHT YOU LOSERS, TONIGHT..I. FELL WILL KISS Y/N!" There's a long silence until everyone started yelling

"WHAT?!" "No way! You won't!" "Not on my watch!" "SHUT UP!" And so on, until Classic shut everyone's mouths.

"EVERYONE! EVERYONE! Calm down." Everyone very soon became silent. No one wanted to go against Classic, seeing as he's the original Sans...

"There's no need for us to make such a ruckus... Y/n invited us all because of their great personality..." Classic spoke once more, until Killer interrupted. "Yeah.. I know what, 'Personality' you mean.." Science looks at Killer's blushing face, and immediately swats him. "HEY!" "Don't talk like that about them." He sternly told him, before focusing his attention at Classic, yet again.

"-And I'm just saying, they probably don't expect to be kissing anyone." There's a long silence as everyone shamefully looks at the floor. "The only one they'll be kissing is me." Classic finishes his speech, making the others argue. Again.

"And what makes you think they'll kiss you??" Ink pointed at Classic. "Yeah. Maybe... they'll go for a more mysterious skeleton." Dust spoke next, making the others turn to him with a questionable look. Berry erupted into laughter. "MWAHAHAHA! YOU?! Nah, with yo emo ass.. they would rather much like someone like me!" Nightmare scoffed. "Yeah. Right." Berry looked at Nightmare, offended. "Like you're any better." Nightmare suddenly smirked. "Yeah. I have tentacles.." his cheeks gained color, as he blushed deep turquoise. They all just looked at him confused, until it hit them. "Ew, gross! Why would anyone be into that?" Killer made a yuck noise. "Stop kink shaming." Reaper gave him a smirk, as Killer grimaced.

The boys fell silent when they saw you and Swap enter the room with smiling faces. "Hey guys! We're finally back, everyone grab a drink and pour yourself some! It's gonna start soon~!" They all did what they were told.

Epic went up to you with a blushy face. "H-Hey...ahem. Hey brah! I wanted to ask-" he didn't finished his sentence as he was pushed away by Error. "Go away! Hey Y-Y/n.." you only blinked. "Yeah?" ... Silence. There was nothing, he was about to speak, but was kicked away by Cross. "That's for my best friend! And...uhh..hi Y/n! Enjoying yourself?" You nodded. "Yeah! I'm glad to be spending New Year's with my friends!" He suddenly froze, which Dream got a good advantage of. "Y/n!-" Not even a few words in and he was pushed aside by Science. "Y/n! Iwannaaskifyouwanna-" you cut him off, not understanding a word he's saying. "Sci, sci...calm down. Or you might get a stroke. Heh.." you pat his head walking away. "...." "Gosh darn it..." He swore, looking down.

You gasped, seeing the screen. "This is it guys! 10....9..." You all counted as the numbers kept going down. The others couldn't help but feel disappointed. None of them could mange to ask for a kiss.... "5...4...3..." It was disappointing, really.. "3...2...1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" You all shouted.

You suddenly sprinted towards Swap and Horror. They all watched curiously. What could you possibly want from them? They all stared with shock as you kissed Swap, and then Horror. Leaving red marks on their skulls, from your lipstick. (A/N: REMEMBER! ANYONE CAN WEAR LIPSTICK! LIPSTICK DOESN'T HAVE GENDER)

They both have a very dizzy expressions on their faces, as you grinned, then went towards the couch.

Turns out, that Horror actually disappeared while everyone was arguing. He went to help you and Swap out, since that conversation was boring him. There, he witnessed Swap asking you that sacred question, then he decided to also ask.

This was a very tragic New Year for them all. Except Swap and Horror. ;)

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! :D

[henrysglock]

"I Have Nightmares—" "That's Not A Sin." "Yeah, Except I'm Pretty Sure I Can Actually Make Them Come True."

Okay. This is about to get real shrimpy, because I'm relying on mid-quality video for mid quality pictures...so you guys just have to work with me.

I think this sequence is almost entirely fake:

As in...I straight up don't think those tentacles or this sequence ever existed IRL.

I'm getting the feeling that Henry IRL attacked Mr. Newby the same way he later attacks Brenner and Inmate 58361:

Eye-crushing, no breaking bones for 58361 (very similar to El's kill style), and then shot straight through the ceiling for Brenner. Same as Mr. Newby, but in two parts.

I'm actually fairly certain Henry's having a vision in the attic sequence.

We see this same red lighting appear just minutes before, when Patty's mother turns into a Vecna-fied version of herself to attack Henry...the same Vecna-type makeup Patty gets in Henry's vision of her back during the first DOTM rehearsal:

You can't see it from this angle, but Patty's mom has even got the clawed left hand and everything while she's forcing void-Henry to move in sync with her.

The next time we see Henry IRL, the lighting is back to normal and he's levitating on his own:

They close the curtains:

And when they come back up, he's bathed in red and strung up on the tentacles with Dimension X lightning in the background:

When the sequence ends, Henry in the void/on the stage floor drops to the ground in a heap, and "Henry" on the tentacles falls into a crouch:

But when we see IRL Henry next, the lighting is normal and he's picking himself up off the floor, just like void Henry:

Hell, Henry even tries to hide in the light of a "perfect" memory (Patty and him getting kicked out of Melvald's) when red-light Patty tells him, and I quote, "It's not real, it's a nightmare," (words Henry says to himself constantly) before going on to tell him it doesn't have to be a nightmare, he can make it a good dream.

And when he starts to lose his grip on that memory, Patty in the red light tells him "It's your dream, remember? Anything is possible". Smash cut to the weird "I love you" and Henry freeing himself from the monster (for the moment).

This all becomes especially shrimpresting when you consider that it was red-lighting Patty who told Henry she loves him, and who snapped at him that he had to say it back to fight off the monster.

However, when Henry IRL tries to catch normal-lighting Patty to tell her where to find her mother, she screams "let go of me!" at him while she runs away and leaves him to pick himself up off the attic floor:

Patty remains terrified of Henry right up until Mr. Newby begs her to save him.

That doesn't sound like someone who just confessed their love to Henry as a way to try and walk him back out of the darkness. It just doesn't.

It sounds like, maybe, Henry pulling on a different memory of Patty to try and save himself, or something along those lines. (Staring at Stav's post about the void being the alternate timeline, since he would be both in the void and in a vision...Henward are you trying to save each other..? Anyway, that's shrimping for a different post.) Namely, the memory I'm thinking of is the confession booth scene. Henry tells Patty that he's pretty sure he can make his nightmares come true, and she advises him it's his dream, so why not make it a good one next time?

Arguably, you could say that Patty's trying that same shtick again under wildly different circumstances/she put it all together and knows what he needs to do to break free.

But then...if she, while being actively attacked, is so willing to stand by Henry/help him to the point where she's confessing her love for him, then why does she run and leave him to put himself back together even though he's obviously in distress? Why is she so terrified of him, to the point where she doesn't dare tell Bob about what really happened in the attic for fear of Henry coming after her?

It doesn't add up.

So, tl;dr: I don't think Patty ever said "I love you" to Henry at all. I think that whole damn sequence was a nightmare vision.

I think the "I love you" was something else, whether it be Henry subconsciously "making it a good dream" to save himself, irl Patty, and Mr. Newby...or someone else who a) knows what to do/how to help Henry, and b) is, as Patty says, "Connected, whether [Henry] likes it or not".

As a side note for support: Even Joyce and Hopper display more care for Henry post-attic than Patty does. Now, Patty is well within her rights to be terrified of Henry and not want anything to do with him, don't get me wrong...But don't try to tell me Henry and Patty are "true love/love at first sight" when Joyce and Hopper are ready to go take down Victor in part because Henry's gone missing.

The Jopper conversation when Joyce is convincing Hopper to help her take down Victor goes, and I quote:

Joyce: What about Henry, hm? Any explanation about what happened to him? Why no one knows where he is, or why it's like he disappeared? Hopper: No one knows anything...or if they do, they're not talking.

Meanwhile, Patty is refusing to talk about what happened in the attic because she's terrified that Henry's listening, and that he'll come after her if she talks.

That's not convincing for "true love/love at first sight".

[yellow-computer-mouse]

Some older UTMV fics I haven't posted!

under cut!!

Contrary to popular belief, Nightmare did have friends. He had several healthy friendships with well-known skeletons like Blue, Ink, and Vio. He liked to go out and do things such as get dinner with his friends. He liked to hear what his friends had to say, and they liked listening to him as well.

Most of the time, that is.

It wasn’t like they didn’t like him or his opinions, no matter how much it seemed that way. Nightmare just wasn’t very good at talking to people. This was made incredibly apparent when he decided to meet up at Ccino’s cafe with Thistle, Geno, and Lavender. They were all seated and chatting aimlessly when the Minecraft server that they shared came up.

“I’m not on that,” Geno said, looking up from his drink.

“Oh, we could add you,” Lavender offered. Thistle mumbled his confirmation as he ripped a sugar packet open with his teeth. Nightmare had been quiet as the others spoke, preferring to listen to them converse instead of jump in and embarrass himself, until he remembered something Killer had told him.

“Speaking of Minecraft,” he began, but the others didn’t seem to hear him. “Guys.” They continued their conversation without him, still not acknowledging his attempts. He began to grow frustrated as their voices grew louder. He cleared his throat in a futile attempt to get their attention. Still nothing. Nightmare clenched his teeth, wishing he was at home. Listening to them talk over him angered him further, and in a fit of rage, he slammed his fist down on the table as hard as he could.

None of them noticed.

Why didn’t they notice him?

Nightmare felt his face shift into a hurt expression, eyes turning downward. He shifted in his chair, bringing his knees up to his chest. His tentacles hung limply over the backrest as he buried his face into his lap, trying not to cry. This was stupid. His friends were stupid. He peeked out of the corner of his eye to the other three. They were still talking like nothing happened, not even bothering to glance over to him. They were treating him like he wasn’t there.

What the fuck?

Nightmare hopped out of his chair, grabbing his bag. “I’m going home,” he mumbled, fighting to keep tears out of his voice. He didn’t cry, he couldn’t cry, he wouldn’t cry.

“Wait, what? Why?” Lavender asked, looking at him with worry in their eyes.

“No reason.” They looked like they were going to say something else, but Nightmare was quick to cut them off. “Fuck off, I’m tired.” Technically, he wasn’t lying. He was tired- tired of being invisible. Tired of being ignored. Tired of hoping that his friends would literally just acknowledge his very existence because really, was that too much to ask? To be recognized as a fucking person?

He carelessly ripped open a portal to his base, practically throwing himself through and crashing face-first into the couch. Cross, sitting next to him, jumped slightly.

“Hi, boss,” he said nervously. Nightmare stuck up his open hand, tilted it slightly, and dropped his arm back to his side, sighing heavily. “How’d it go?”

“Hrmmng,” Nightmare groaned, rolling over to his back and slumping to the floor. “Not good.”

“How not good?” Horror asked, cocking his head. Nightmare opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed it again. He glanced behind him, looking Cross up and down. The monochrome skeleton blinked purposefully, which Nightmare took as an invitation to continue.

“Well, it was annoying. They mostly were just talking about things they’ve all done together, which somehow devolved into talking about the server- Killer knows what I’m talking about. I tried to tell them something, but nobody listened to me- or even recognized my existence- so…” Nightmare trailed off, hearing himself starting to whine the way you do before you cry. Cross gave a hum of displeasure and Horror furrowed his brow. Nightmare took a breath, continuing shakily. “So- I don’t know. This happens a lot, so I guess I should expect it by now, but it’s still really sad because I just want to talk about things I like and-” He cut off sharply, pressing his palms against his eyelids and biting his tongue. He wouldn’t cry. He would not. Cry.

Cross lightly touched his shoulder and Nightmare crumpled forward, sobbing into his knees.“I-I-I j-just want to- to be heard,” he blubbered shakily. Cross slid onto the floor next to him, offering a hug tentatively. Nightmare leaned into it, shoulders shaking. Horror looked around awkwardly before getting up and leaving the room. After some time, Nightmare managed to calm down and Cross released him. He quickly retreated to his room so he could get pissed at his friends in peace. Unfortunately, Horror followed him, awkwardly trying to make him feel better by showing him things Killer had sent him. Nightmare would never admit it, but it kind of worked. For the first time in a long time- longer than he could remember, actually- he felt seen. He felt heard. He was listened to, and sometimes, that’s all he needed.

Nightmare sat atop the stump of the Tree of Feelings. He was having some feelings, himself. He didn’t want this. Looking around, he took in the dusty, deserted landscape. He felt a kind of disconnect between doing this and, well, doing this. He knew he did, but he couldn’t remember anything about it. There was a blackout lasting almost immediately after he ate the apple until he found himself in a MafiaTail, scared and alone. He had asked the Sans of the AU for directions and had instead “earned” a much more… personal prize. He was only seven.

He didn’t like to think about that.

After he made his way to a different AU (an OuterTale! How fun), he met Error for the first time when he was about ten. Error was tearing apart the universe. He had asked what the god was doing, and Error replied, “None of your business.”

He heard a staticky kind of ripping sound and almost laughed at how well-timed it was. Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

And oh, appear he did. The blinding white light of the Antivoid poured into the (now) eternally night AU, appearing as though Error was glowing.

“Long time, no see, Error,” Nightmare said smoothly, as though he hadn’t just been on the verge of tears recounting memories from a time meant to be pure and fun. He was glad Error had arrived. He didn’t want to be alone as much as he said he did.

“G00d m0rn1ng t0 y0u t00,” Error said, smirking and snapping the portal closed instantly. “W45n’t 3xp3ct1ng t0 533 y0u 1n 4 d43d un1v3r53.”

“Wait, dead?” Nightmare said, startled. “I- you’ve gotta be kidding me. This AU has been around for hundreds, no, thousands of years. You’re joking. You’re joking! I- oh- you are not saying what I think you are, no way. This- you can’t be-”

“%t0p y0ur p4th3t1c r4mbl1ng. Th3 4U’5 c0mpl3t3ly gl1tch3d 0ut. L00k 4t th3 fuck1ng 5ky, N1ghtm4r3.” The corrupted skeleton did as he was told. “Wh4t d0 y0u 533?”

“It’s nighttime,” he said, hating how young he sounded. Sounding young is why he was here in the first place. After thinking for a second, he added, “So…?”

“%0?! Th4t’5 th3 wh0l3 d4y-n1ght cycl3, f0r 0n3 th1ng. F0r 4n0th3r, n0n3 0f th3 1nh4b1t4nt5 4r3 5t1ll h3r3-”

“I’m still here. Dream is too, sometimes.”

“-N0t n34rly 0ft3n 3n0ugh t0 54v3 1t. G0dd4mn1t, N1ghtm4r3, why d0 y0u th1nk y0u 4nd y0ur br0th3r 4r3 c0n51d3r3d 0utc0d35?”

He opened his mouth indignantly, only to shut it again. Why was he an outcode if his AU is fine? “Don’t talk about the day-night cycle. You didn’t grow up here.” He came very close to sticking his tongue out at the god but decided against it. It would have been asking for it unprofessional, after all.

“W45 1t 4lw4y5 n1ghtt1m3 wh3n y0u w3r3 4 k1d? B3c4u53 1’v3 45k3d Dr34m, 4nd h3 54y5 n0.”

“W-well,” Nightmare began. “No. No, it was day sometimes. But! That doesn’t mean the AU’s dead, Error.” He scoffed. “Classic Error, always jumping to conclusions-”

“L45t t1m3 ! c4m3 h3r3 th3 v1ll4g3r5 w3r3 b4ck.”

“Last time you came here the what I’m sorry?” Nightmare asked with wide eyes.

“Th3 v1ll4g3r5. Th3y w3r3 b4ck.”

“Back? Like, as in not dead?” Error gave him a deadpan expression.

“Y35, 45 1N N0T D34D, Y0U FUCK1NG 1D10T!” Nightmare was silent, staring at the ground. He bit his tongue, then his lip, then his cheek, then his lip again, just for kicks.

He didn’t like being yelled at.

“For real?” he asked, feeling smaller than he ever had before. (Well, maybe not ever.) He hated feeling small. He knew what people did to things that were small.

“W0uld ! l13 t0 y0u?” Error asked. The god’s voice had softened, probably realizing how much this fucking dead tree and rubble meant to Nightmare. He shook his head slightly. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t. Crying means you’re not happy. Being not happy is bad. That means they have to make you happy.

“L00k, !’d t3ll y0u t0 s4y y0ur g00dby35, but 1t l00k5 l1k3 y0u 4r3.” Error paused for a moment when Nightmare didn’t react. A million thoughts were going through his head at once, and he wanted them to stop.

“! w45 g01ng t0 t3ll y0u b3f0r3 ! t0r3 1t d0wn 4nyw4y5,” the god said dismissively. Still nothing. Nightmare could barely process any of the thoughts that he was having. Error was all he could understand, and he was clinging to the sad truths the god was speaking. “D0 y0u w4nt m3 t0 w4lk y0u thr0ugh wh4t th15 m34n5?” He felt himself nod slightly. The whole conversation didn’t feel real, and Error’s presence always looking painted-on didn’t help. He felt himself begin to space out, but he was quickly snapped back by Error’s multicolored fingers.

“C’m0n, 5t4y w1th m3 h3r3.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Try r3p34t1ng wh4t ! s4y. 0r 1f y0u h4v3 4 d1ff3r3nt m3th0d, g0 f0r 1t. ! d0n’t kn0w h0w d1550c14t10n w0rk5.” Nightmare whispered what the god had just said back to himself. The act of speaking stopped his brain for a moment. He still felt small, unbelievably small, but respected. It was just like when he was taught by Mr. Gilbert don’t think about Mr. Gilbert don’t think about Mr. Gilbert don’t think about him don’t don’t don’t you little whore don’t.

“)k4y, 50 th3 v1ll4g3r5 c0m1ng b4ck- n0t 4ll th3 t1m3, m1nd y0u, ju5t 0nc3 0r tw1c3- m34n5 th4t th3 un1v3r53 15 try1ng t0 3553nt14lly r353t 1t53lf. But 1t’5 n0t 4 r353t, Dr34mt4l35 4r3n’t c4p4bl3 0f th4t. W3ll, 3xc3pt f0r R353tm4r3, but th4t’5 4 wh0l3 0th3r th1ng 1n 4nd 0f 1t53lf.” Error paused. “Fuck. !’m r4mbl1ng. B451c4lly, th3 un1v3r53 w4nt5 t0 run thr0ugh 1t5 5t0ry, but 1t 4lr34dy d1d. H0w3v3r, th3 un1v3r53 d035n’t kn0w th4t b3c4u53 1t’5 c0mpl3t3ly 3mpty.”

“Then why’s the sky broken?” Nightmare asked. He was finally, finally, beginning to get it.

“!- )h. G00d qu35t10n. ! 4ctu4lly d0n’t kn0w. %0m3th1ng mu5t h4v3 c0rrupt3d 1t.”

“Was it me?”

“N0, ! d0n’t th1nk 50. !’m, l1k3, pr3tty 5ur3 th4t’5 p4rt 0f th3 5t0ry.” Error stopped talking for a minute. “$ny qu35t10n5?”

“No- no, I don’t think so.”

“G00d. N0w, ! d0 n33d y0u t0 g3t 0ut 50 ! c4n t34r 1t d0wn-”

“NO!” The two skeletons were quiet for a while.

“Wh4t?” Error asked, the god’s flat tone promising a dark end. Nightmare stood stock-still, paralyzed in fear. He needed to apologize although that never stopped them before.

“I-I mean, uh, d-does Dream know? You said you’d tell me, w- I-I- tha- w-what about Dream?”

“H3 d1dn’t t3ll y0u?” Error, who had previously been facing the remnants of the village turned to face Nightmare. The god’s normal scowl had been replaced with an incredulous look.

“What do you mean he didn’t tell me?” Nightmare asked slowly, not wanting to process what that meant.

“N1ghtm4r3. Y0u 53r10u5ly d1dn’t kn0w?” The god’s voice was soft, tone gentle in a way Nightmare needed liked. His silence was apparently all Error needed to hear. “! told Dr43m t0 t3ll y0u. Y0u w3r3 5upp053d t0 c0nt4ct m3 45 500n 45 y0u c0uld 50 w3 c0uld t4lk 4b0ut 1t. D1d- d1d h3 n0t t3ll y0u?” The genuine concern in Error’s voice was enough to break him. Nightmare fought to keep the tears in his eyes and not streaming down his face, tainting the ground. Tainted. That’s what he was. He couldn’t cry, not in front of Error. He had to be strong if he wanted to be a boy. Look at how easily he broke, he couldn’t be a boy. Boys didn’t break, boys were strong. He had to be strong.

Error was very close to him. Nightmare stepped back in shock. The destroyer was standing right in front of him, only a foot or two away.

“$r3 y0u 0k4y?” Nightmare couldn’t bring himself to move. “H3y, 1 r34lly n33d y0u 0ut 0f h3r3, m4n. !’v3 b33n try1ng t0 b3 ch1ll, but- uh- 1t’5 g0nn4 c0ll4p53. ! d0n’t kn0w h0w 500n, but ! d0n’t w4nn4 fuck 4r0und 4nd f1nd 0ut, y’kn0w?”

He couldn’t move. He was trying. It was like the signal was being interrupted. He was stuck standing stiffy, staring at the dirt underneath his feet.

“Y0u g00d? L1k3, f0r r34l th15 t1m3.” Nightmare tried his absolute hardest to choke out a no yes, but he couldn’t. He tried. Those tears he had been holding in fell, and he couldn’t even wipe them away.

“L00k. ! d0n’t kn0w 1f y0u c4n m0v3 r1ght n0w, 50 h3r3’5 wh4t’5 g0nn4 h4pp3n. !’m g0nn4 5tr1ng y0u up 4nd h0ld y0u 1n th3 $nt1v01d unt1l !’m d0n3 h3r3. Th3n, !’m g0nna dr0p y0u 0ff b4ck 4t y0ur c45tl3. Th3n, !’m g0nn4 have 4 t4lk w1th Dr34m. Ju5t 4 fr13ndly ch4t-”

“He wants what’s best for me,” Nightmare blurted out. The words were fast and jumbled together and were way too hard to understand.

“W4nt1ng wh4t’5 b35t f0r y0u d035n’t m34n h1d1ng 1mp0rt4nt 5h1t fr0m y0u, N1ght.” The god was quiet for a moment. “D1d h3 t3ll y0u th4t?” Nightmare fought to respond.

“A little.” Error sighed, giving the guardian an expression of pity.

“)k4y. C4n y0u m0v3 n0w?” “Dunno,” he said, voice growing more snippy and strained. “Can’t even talk, so…”

“Y0u’r5 pr0b4bly ju5t g01ng n0n-v3rb4l. !’m g0nn4 put y0u 1n the $nt1v01d n0w, g0t 1t? $ctu4lly, f1r5t !’m g01ng t0 bl1ndf0ld y0u. !’ll 4dm1t 1t, th053 l1ght5 4r3 r34lly 0v3r5t1mul4t1ng.” Nightmare barely nodded as Error carefully slipped a blindfold over his eyes, making sure their bones didn’t touch. “)h, 0n3 l45t th1ng. #bb 54y5 ! 5h0uld w4rn y0u, th3 fl00r 15 h0t. N0t h0t 3n0ugh t0 burn y0u, but h0t.” With that, Nightmare was tossed through a portal into the destroyer’s place of residence. He sat on the floor, trying to process what had just happened. His mind felt cloudy and dull. He didn’t know how long he was in there until Error came back through the portal.

“W3ll, 1t’5 g0n3.”

“Gone,” Nightmare whispered to himself. He felt mostly empty, maybe a little bittersweet. Any real emotion was buried deep inside him as a form of protection. He had learned young, being upset only made things worse. He could feel Error give him a funny look.

“Y34h. )G Dr34mt4l3 15 n0 m0r3.”

“All gone,” he said. He didn’t know why. That was childish and unnecessary. He didn’t have control over his actions.

“!- wh4t? !- 0k4y. Wh4t3v3r. Y35. $ll g0n3. By3 by3 Dr34mt4l3.” Nightmare rocked back and forth where he sat, waiting for Error to send him back to his castle. He was tired and he needed to be alone to process this. Actually, scratch that. He just needed to be alone. “$lr1ghty. W3lp, 1t’5 b33n fun, but 1t’5 t1m3 f0r y0u t0 g0 h0m3. Y0u’r3 g0nn4 turn 1nt0 4 nutj0b 1f y0u 5t4y h3r3. ! m34n, l00k 4t #bb. Y1k35.”

“Yikes.” Error laughed slightly.

“Y34h. W3ll, 0ff y0u g0!” Nightmare felt the atmosphere change, growing much colder yet much more welcoming. Taking off his blindfold, he saw Error had dropped him off in his kitchen.

“Oh, hey boss! You’re back.” Nightmare gave a nod. “Why were you hanging with Error?” Nightmare tried to say, “None of your business.” Emphasis on tried. He instead whined, walking away from Killer and heading for his room.

“Alright, don’t wanna talk to me. Damn.” Nightmare gave him a noise of confirmation, completely missing the hurt in the other’s voice. He just wanted to be alone. He thought everything went- well, not well, but better than expected for his AU being destroyed. Okay. He thought everything went okay until he got in his room, closed the door, got into bed, and broke down sobbing. Really turned on the waterworks. The weirdest part? He didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he was upset, because everything went so well. Everything was fine, so why was he crying? The thing that broke him out of it was a small knock on his door. It was timid, like the person knocking was asking permission to ask permission. Cross. He took a deep breath and suddenly he was calm again.

“Come in,” he said quietly. Said like he wasn’t just sobbing into a pillow.

“Uh, are you busy? Because if you are, it’s fine. I-I just was thinking- well- uh, we’re all hanging out in my room and I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”

“I’d love to, Cross, truly. I just really need to be alone right now. Maybe later.” Nightmare felt oddly standoffish and he didn’t know why. He hoped that didn’t leak into his tone. They never liked his tone.

“Oh, alright,” he said, nodding. The ex-soldier slipped back out of the room, careful to shut the door behind him. As soon as Nightmare heard the door close again, he felt better. He felt safe. He felt like he was going to cry until he made himself sick. And so he did. He moved to his bathroom (his blankets were too warm, too fabric-y. Too much. Fuck, he could barely handle wearing a shirt the little perv) and he cried uncontrollably. He screamed and sobbed, letting his guilt and sorrow rip him away. He let any shred of okay-ness be absolutely destroyed and then let the remnants be torn apart. He sat on the cold tile floor and cried until he was sick and then he did it again. And again. After what felt like hours (thirty minutes), he was at least 62% sure that he was okay. Maybe. If you squint. He wiped his eyes, splashed some water on his face, rinsed his mouth out, and went to join the others.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, nerd,” said the soulless skeleton, wielding his paintbrush menacingly. Acidic red paint dripped from the end. Ink pinned him against a wall, removing all forms of defense he may have. Nightmare stared down at him with wide eyes. His whole team stopped to watch with bated breath. This had happened before, and it didn’t go well. A glance to the right revealed that Dream was watching, too, with fear in his eyes.

“Do it, boss. Go apeshit,” Killer muttered, the slightest smirk creeping onto his face as they all waited for carnage.

Nightmare didn’t move as his eyelight shrunk to a pinprick. He stayed there, letting Ink pin him against the wall and whisper things into his ear as he further trapped the dark skeleton. Blue managed to get up, despite his many injuries, and pull Ink back, telling him something nobody else could hear. Nightmare still didn’t move, aside from violent tremors causing him to visibly shake, even from Dust’s distance. He stayed, back pressed against the wall, no doubt ripping into his delicate tentacles. He eventually crumpled forward to the ground, presumably tearing up his knees as well. He let himself go limp, folding in half on the sharp cement. His tentacles were acting oddly too, staying stock-still in the position they had been in against the wall.

“Boss…?” Horror murmured. Dust glanced over and saw genuine concern in his blown-out eyelight. They were about to say something when an audible gasp came from where their leader lay, drawing the attention of everyone on the battlefield. Horror looked like he was about to say something else when a loud, gut-wrenching sob burst forth from the fallen skeleton.

“Boss!!” he called, starting to run towards him. Dust put an arm out, stopping him silently. Nightmare continued crying on the ground, convulsing as experiences and traumas none of them could understand flowed out of him as tears, his tentacles thrashing about wildly. They all stayed like that- frozen- for several minutes, until Horror eventually shoved Dust aside, running over to him. He dropped down to his knees as he ran, wrapping his arms around their boss.

Not his boss. Their boss.

What was Dust doing?

They followed Horror, Killer running behind them. At a closer proximity, they could hear words mixed in with his sobs. Horror spoke softly as he ran a hand along Nightmare’s back, pulling him closer and rocking him slightly. Nightmare sputtered apologies that slowly devolved into gasps of fear and pain, and he was back to weeping into Horror’s jacket. His voice got progressively higher-pitched as he spouted his regrets until he broke once again, words regressing into shrieks and sobs. His fingers dug into Horror’s back, trying to get closer. Dust heard the Stars tear open a portal, leaving the “Bad Sanses” alone in the AU. Dust seemed to be the only one who noticed, Horror still attempting to comfort Nightmare and Killer watching it all go down with an unreadable expression. Dust waited another moment before joining the other two on the ground, wrapping their arms around the corrupted skeleton. Killer also entered their little freakish huddle at some point, as Dust felt a third body in the pile.

“It’s alright,” Horror said. Dust thought they heard a quiet “No,” come from their boss. “You’re alright.” Nightmare shook his head, wailing louder.

“No, no, it’s not, no!” Nightmare shrieked, pulling Horror into an increasingly tight grip and continuing to sob into his jacket. Everything became more surreal as Dust watched, listened, and felt their boss’s pain. Nightmare was the guardian, no, king of negativity and evil. He had killed so many people. He had destroyed his AU. He had imprisoned his brother in stone for 500 years. He had ended the lives of everyone he had ever known, including his own mother, but Dust was having a hard time seeing him as anything other than scared. Scared and lost. It made them rethink his title. It made them rethink all of their titles. Why were they considered “bad?” Yes, they were all criminals, but for good reasons. They looked at Nightmare again. They knew what he had done, the atrocities he had committed. They knew why he was called, well, Nightmare. But he was so much more than that. Dust knew what happened after he ate the apple, he had told them. He blacked out. The corruption completely took over and killed everyone, left the universe, and then killed anyone it saw. Nightmare came to in a MafiaTale, still as old as he was when the incident happened- seven years old. He was seventeen when he found Dust and recruited them to join him. Currently, he was twenty-one. Barely even old enough to drink. Although, liquor consumption laws had never stopped “The Bad Sanses.” Alcoholic drug addicts, every one of them.

The skeleton breaking down in front of them was not a bad person.

He was not a bad person.

Nightmare was a living being with thoughts and feelings. Fuck, people not realizing that is why he became Nightmare in the first place. Dust could see him change and adapt to his surroundings. When they were all in the castle, he became more light-hearted. He made jokes. He laughed. He lived. When they were out and about or on a mission, all that went away. He became cold, calculating. What he was expected to be, not who he was.

Nightmare took a deep, shaky breath, pushed away from Horror, and gave a small smile. “Thank you. I-” He paused. “I think I needed that.” He laughed quietly, his tiny grin growing ever so slightly.

“No problem,” Horror said. Nightmare opened a portal.

“Shall we?” he said, as though nothing had happened. Except… not quite like nothing had happened. Something had very much so happened and he was aware of that. It was like his shell was cracking. Dust was glad. They liked seeing him be himself. Not the king of negativity. Not a monster in every sense of the word. No, they liked Nightmare, their boss. Nightmare, their friend.

Just… Nightmare. That’s all.

yipeee

[oscurascout]

Bad Sanses Adventures

Halloween! 🎃

Note - Finally done, I know it's November 4, I'm sorry but hey I got it done. This is the end of the Bad Sanses Adventures, sometimes I'll post more Bad Sanses but for now I'll take a bit of a break and choose my next fandom. Hope you guys enjoy!

Masterlist

The gang set out to the pumpkin patch with high spirits, once their they found a very vast field of pumpkins waiting for them. Nightmare led the way, already judging which pumpkin would have the perfect carving potential, while Killer and Cross dashed ahead, both wanting to find the largest ones.

Horror and Dust looked through the pumpkins together. Horror had already found his; he was just helping Dust. Dust was having a hard time deciding which pumpkin he wanted, but he finally settled on a small one after being convinced by both Paps and Horror.

Killer - *struggling to hold his pumpkin* “L-let’s make this a challenge! Whoever carves the best pumpkin gets Nightmare’s crown!”

Nightmare - *raising an eyebrow, picking his pumpkin* “Excuse me?”

Before he could protest, the group had already passed through the portal to get back home. Nightmare stepped through the portal and saw that they had already taken over the dining table and begun carving. Nightmare simply sighed, walked to the table, and slowly and carefully began to carve his pumpkin.

Cross started by trying to carve a simple scary face but decided to add a bit of flair, a messy, crooked grin with wild, crooked eyes. He turned around, and all of a sudden, he heard something heavy fall. Cross turned back to see that his pumpkin had disappeared. Chara then showed him that it had fallen off the table. Cross quickly went for it and noticed that now there was a big sunken part. He looked at Chara, then at the pumpkin, then back at Chara; they both shrugged and continued carving.

Dust sighed as he fished out the innards of his own pumpkin, tossing some seeds at Killer. Killer tossed some back at him, making Dust chuckle. He then started to carve his pumpkin, deciding to make a scary face, one where the mouth was very wide with a smile while the eyes looked angry. He and Paps agreed on it. As he was carving, he pushed the knife a bit too low and cut the eye, which made it look like a mad pirate, giving it a goofy appearance. Paps laughed, and they decided to keep it like that.

Killer took out his knife and started carving his masterpiece. He had something in mind that would truly be out of this world; he was carving the being that scared him the most. He smiled and continued, making sure to add every little detail. As he was carving, he didn't see Error behind him. Error let out a chuckle, causing Killer to jump and swing his knife at him. Error quickly moved away. Killer frowned at him and apologized, then went back to carving. Error only chuckled and left a very focus Killer to his carving.

Error didn't want to carve something completely scary. Surprisingly, he wanted to create some art. He decided to carve an owl. As far as he was concerned, he was doing amazing. He made sure to add as much detail as possible. He smiled and applied a little more pressure on the knife, yet as he tried to move, he found that his knife was stuck, and right in the middle of the owls head. He tried to take it out, but unfortunately, if he removed the knife, then the drawing would get messed up. Error sighed and simply left the knife there, grabbing another knife to continue.

Nightmare was surprisingly relaxed; he was starting to enjoy this activity. He was carving the face of the monster that had come out in one of his books. He remembered when he used to be afraid of the monster, but now he only felt shivers at how well the author had made the monster come out. He leaned away to see his creation, and if you asked him, it was coming out well, in his opinion. He looked away for a minute, and in that time, his tentacles had some fun decorating the pumpkin. Once Nightmare turned around, he saw the goop slowly trailing down the pumpkin. He sighed and cleaned it up, upsetting his tentacles.

Horror wasn't sure what to carve; he had so many ideas, but none of them seemed good enough. He had already left some sunken spots on the pumpkin from where he had grabbed it a bit too hard. Horror sighed and looked up. He saw Cupcake, the gang's house pet. Horror smiled and started to carve a kitten strolling, or at least he made it sort of look as if the cat was walking. He smiled and continued carving, leaving another sunken spot in the process.

They finally finished and displayed their creations proudly. Cross's pumpkin looked like a wannabe scary face, with a really big bump on the side. Dust's pumpkin resembled an angry pirate, complete with a big slash across one of its eyes. Killer's pumpkin had the face of one of the gang's members, everyone chuckled at the carving, well, except for Nightmare, whose face was on the pumpkin. Error's pumpkin was a bit scary; it was a beautifully carved owl but with a knife sticking out of its head, creating an eerie feeling. Nightmare's pumpkin was the truly scary one; no one knew what the monster was or what it represented, but just the graphic view of it gave them the shivers. Horror's pumpkin was the most wholesome; the cat didn't quite look like it was on a walk, but it did look cute, well except for the several sunken spots.

Now they had a problem: how were they going to decide who won?

Killer - *excited* “Let’s have Cupcake decide!”

Since no one else had a better idea, they went along with it. Killer placed Cupcake in front of the pumpkins.

Killer - “Go on, Cupcake, choose the best one!”

Cupcake looked at everyone, then back at the pumpkins. She just blinked and walked away.

Killer - “Wait, come back!”

Killer went after Cupcake while Cross and Dust just laughed. Horror and Error relaxed and took their pumpkins. Nightmare simply sigh and follow Horror and Error.

They ended up putting the pumpkin on the coffee table in the living room. They were now sitting and watching several scary movies. Sometimes they would throw pieces of popcorn or candy at each other, but they stopped when they saw Horror's frown. In the end, they all ended up in a cuddle pile, candy wrappers around them, pieces of popcorn on the floor, and soda and juice cans left on the table. Nightmare turned off the TV and lay down. He then closed his eyes and relaxed.