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enapouyou · 3 years

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My little stone guardian

(Sorry if there are spelling mistakes, english isn’t my language. The story is translated from French )

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He had succeeded.

Well, almost...

Puddles of paint littered the floor, their various colours contrasting with the black that was slowly taking over the place. The gentle warmth of the universe gave way to a cold, icy wind, making the bones of those who dared not move tremble. But was it really the cold that made them tremble... ?

A thud broke the silence, the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground. Then came the sound of footsteps, slow, uncertain. They seemed to go on forever, as if the goal to be reached was constantly receding. And finally, a scream, a howl, tearing apart the time that seemed to have stopped. A scream, a single word, a single name...

- DREAM !!!!!!!!!

Frozen in the middle of what used to be their battlefield, amidst bones stuck in the ground, paint soaked into the grass, blasters that had come to rest, the guardian of positivity had returned to a state no one thought possible.

Arriving first at his side, Ink's hands were shaking, slowly coming to rest on the cheeks of a stone statue, feeling a few tears slide down the cold surface. Behind him, Blue stood still, replaying the events, trying to understand how this umpteenth battle against the bads sanses could have ended this way.

On the other side, a laugh finally rang out. That of the brother of the new stone statue. Nightmare hadn't planned this, wanting instead to kill his brother to get the golden apple, but... Now that he thought about it, it had taken his brother two hundred years to come out of the stone the first time. So he had plenty of time to plunge the world into chaos. Plenty of time to create a world full of negative feelings. Plenty of time to prepare to welcome his brother back and come up with a plan to finally catch that apple that was currently trapped in the stone as well.

Beside him, his three faithful henchmen were also staring at the scene, exchanging a few glances. They too did not think that this time their fight would surely be the last. They were pulled out of their thoughts when Nightmare snapped his fingers, looking at them with a huge grin before opening a portal to DreamTale, inviting them home to celebrate. Dust and Horror did not hesitate, passing through the portal with their boss, but Killer remained still for a moment. He watched as Blue joined Ink and mourned their friend's condition. Within him, the feelings were quite contradictory as he looked at the guardian of the golden apple, frozen with his arms open and that sweet smile on his face despite the tears, having tried to reason with his brother again... Without success... A call from the portal snapped him out of his thoughts, turning to Nightmare who was staring at him, ordering him to return with a single dark look. Killer felt his soul clench, taking one last look at the stone statue before rejoining the gang, the portal closing just as he passed, the sound of Ink's threat of revenge.

In the distance, he watched his colleagues fighting. Once again, their mission was to go and fill a universe with negative feelings and once again, stars sanses had come to try and stop them. It was becoming a habit, a game... But a dangerous game. The attacks were real and their intentions were to really hurt them... But still, stars sanses continued to just want to reason with them, only attacking in case of major force and always with the aim of immobilizing them, with the least damage possible. And he knew that it was Dream who asked them to do this... Because Dream really believed he could save them.

- Don't you fight, Killer?

The voice had sounded behind him and without even turning around, the madman knew that the guardian of positive feelings had arrived behind him.

- I don't feel like it. He replied calmly. I already know how it's going to end. It's getting boring.

Not detecting any aggression in the skeleton with empty eye sockets, Dream approached to level with him, observing in turn the four others fighting nearby.

- Why do you keep obeying Nightmare then? Dream tried.

Beside him, Killer remained silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on his colleagues.

- Because he saved me. I owe him, whether you like it or not, little Guardian. Maybe if you'd been the first to come for me that day, I'd be with you.

He turned his gaze on the golden-pupilled skeleton, who felt no dominant emotions. He seemed neither happy nor sad that Nightmare was the first to take him out of his world when he wanted to RESET him by erasing himself from his own world.

- This war is none of your business... Dream whispered. This is between Nightmare and me... You should be neutral to all this, but he had to make you feel like he saved you to get you on his side...

Deep down, Dream blamed himself for not being the first to find them. That he couldn't have saved them otherwise. But while he was lost in his thoughts, Killer laughed beside him.

- You're wrong, little Guardian. We don't just do this out of debt. We love it too.

Dream remained silent for a moment, watching Killer with a feeling of contradiction. He felt nothing, not even a little joy. His voice was neutral, tired, without much conviction.

- Is it true?

- Of course it is. Look in front of you. Dust and Horror take pleasure in knocking you off your feet.

- No, Killer. I was asking for you. Are you really enjoying this?

Time seemed to be getting longer and longer. Each day was repetitive, boring. Since Dream had become a stone statue again, the days were boring. Nightmare was at full strength, making Ink and Blue's fight almost futile.

They beat them every time, watching the last two stars retreat to avoid serious injury. And that was every time they crossed paths. It had no interest, no flavour anymore...

But on the other hand, as Killer watched his colleagues, he saw himself as the only one who found the moments boring. Nightmare was getting stronger all the time, Dust loved to go out and attack universes, and Horror was happy to have more time to go hunting for food. But Killer was bored... Taking no pleasure in attacking others. He just wanted to get away from those darned repetitive days.

Many universes had sunk into fear, hatred, the inhabitants no longer having any remorse to fight to maintain an illusion of security for their families. Bads sanses were names that made more and more people tremble, causing chaos and terror. And despite Ink and Blue's best efforts, the number of universes controlled by fear grew steadily, as if hope had vanished.

Everything was too easy.

Sitting on the bed in his room, Killer played with his dagger, twirling it on his knuckle before throwing it to catch it by the handle. He let out a long sigh, beginning to lose interest. The missions had no flavor anymore, Ink and Blue were a shadow of their former selves, too weakened by their search to save their friend.

Eventually the madman dropped his knife and got up to grab his jacket, slinging it over his shoulders and walking out of his room. As he moved through the corridors, he dodged the Papyrus of corruption that were the servants and that were growing in number, witnessing the growing power of their master. These lifeless puppets did not interest Killer either. He was too bland, far from being able to fill his boredom.

Through the window, the round-souled skeleton could see the red sky of DreamTale growing stronger and stronger. The shadows were also taking more ground, turning the place a little more into a universe where negativity was king.

He had won...

Eventually exiting the castle, Killer opened a gate, wanting to take a moment to wander off. Yet, while he was sure he had no idea, as he passed through the gate, his gaze fell on the stone statue.

Dream had not moved. Too heavy but at the same time too fragile to be handled by Ink and Blue. Even Nightmare didn't want to break it, fearing he would lose the golden apple if he killed Dream like that. So he stood there with his arms open and a welcoming smile on his face. Only his tears had disappeared since that famous day.

Killer stood still for a moment, staring at this being trapped in the stone. The images of the fight of that day came back to him. He could hear Dream's pleas for peace, for change. Then came the attack, sharp, almost invisible. No one had seen it, but the sound of stone beginning to freeze Dream had stopped everyone. The guardian had first looked at his feet and then straightened his face towards his brother, holding out his arms and smiling at him despite the tears.

Killer had to give him that. Dream was strong, much stronger than they were. He hadn't been afraid, not for a moment. And even as he turned to stone, he continued to hold out his arms, his hand. The same hand that Killer had gently agreed to take from time to time, when Nightmare wasn't looking.

And he'd discovered an entirely different Dream. A guardian consumed with worry, fear, but not of dying, no... Fear of losing those around him. Even those enemies.

- Why do you want to help us?

Killer sat atop a hill in a nearly destroyed universe. His legs dangled in the air as he watched the last of the survivors being pulled out by Ink and Core!Frisk. Behind him, Dream had sensed his presence and had joined the madman, knowing full well that he was not responsible for the state of this universe. For once, it was only the game's fault.

The question posed by the madman had caught the little guard off guard. How had he guessed that he had come for this? Wasn't it because Dream was talking to Killer more and more and Killer was getting to know him well.

- Is it because we're destroying the world you want to protect? Killer continued. You think it's better to save us than to destroy us, don't you?

Once again, Dream remained silent, unsure of how to respond. But he finally sighed, slowly coming to sit beside the madman, looking in the same direction as him.

- Of course I don't want to destroy you. Because that's not my role.

- So what is your role, little guardian?

-Bringing joy... Just being there and letting people be happy with my presence.

For the first time, Killer had sensed sadness in the guard's voice, but also deep resignation. He had not done this for himself for years. Had he ever done it for himself...

- And what would you like to do?

This time, Killer had turned his head, looking at the smaller man next to him. The latter lowered his head a little, as if unable to answer. At least, unable to answer without thinking, without searching for words.

- I don't know... I would just like to find my brother... Not to have to fight him anymore because he wants to kill me and not to have to face him because the inhabitants of the universes are waiting for us to come and save them.

Slowly, Dream lifted her head, planting her golden pupils in the madman's eyes.

- I would like more moments like this... More moments where we can talk without having to fight... I'm sure we have a lot in common that we could share.

Killer had finally approached the statue, his gaze lost in front of those hands stretched out before him. He knew they weren't meant for him, but he really wanted to take them...

He was right... They had a lot to share. Much more than he had expected. How many times had they found themselves away from the fight, talking about their common weariness to fight. How many times had they ended up talking about something else, slowly opening up to each other. How many times had they lowered their weapons in front of each other, refusing to fight the one who brought them a little novelty in these repetitive confrontations.

Far too many times... And yet, now that he was facing this stone friend, Killer regretted never having told him how happy he was to have spent so much time with him.

- Did you know that Nightmare loved to tell stories when we were kids?

- For real? Then again, I once heard him talking to himself at night in his room. Like he was actually telling something. Of course, he flatly denied it when I asked him what he was doing.

The sound of their laughter filled his memories, prompting him to come a little closer to the statue, placing a hand on the outstretched one. The coolness of it contrasted with the usual warm hand, but Killer had no desire to let go of it now.

- Yesterday I saw a cat near the castle. I would have kept it, but Nightmare doesn't allow animals...

- It's a shame, I'm sure you'd take good care of it. And even if Dust and Horror are your friends, having a furry friend could be good for you.

Slowly, Killer curled his knuckles against the stone one, looking at it sadly. Thoughts raced through his mind, reminding him of all the sweet moments that had seemed timeless. Like a little moment just for them, away from everything.

- Killer... Your soul... It has taken on the shape of an inverted heart!

- ...I haven't seen it like this in a long time.

He placed his second hand on the guard's, passing his empty gaze from one hand to the other. It had been so long since he'd had a moment with him... In addition to his petrification, which must have lasted for the better part of a year, Killer had been distant with him for the past few months. He had felt a real change coming on with Dream and he had been afraid that Nightmare would eventually see them. So he had distanced himself, but in the end, now that he was facing that stone statue, he regretted it.

But what he didn't know was that far away, someone else was regretting this situation too. Not for the same reasons, but for a lot of things that everyone else didn't know. For many things that he kept locked up, refusing even to admit to himself. But this doubt, however small, was present in his heart and for a moment the spell wavered.

Unaware of this, Killer let his hands slip from the stone guardian's, his gaze dropping to the ground. His arms fell limply to his sides, drained of all energy, filled with the weariness and remorse he could no longer change. Slowly he turned, preparing to leave, telling himself that he would come back tomorrow and praying that he would not tire of coming here either.

- You're leaving already... ? a voice whispered behind him.

For a moment, Killer felt the voice come from his mind and he shook his head, needing only to speak, even to a hallucination.

- There's nothing more I can do... I could have prevented this... I should have prevented this. He didn't deserve this...

- I already told you, Killer. The voice continued. You didn't have to get involved in this war, so you're not responsible for what's happening.

The madman took a long breath, really feeling that the voice was real, but he knew it... Nightmare's spell was powerful enough to last for centuries... But even if it was fake, hearing that voice did him a lot of good. Much more than he thought it would, and he couldn't help but say:

- I miss you...

The voice seemed to have disappeared, and Killer felt his soul clench. Not even a hallucination seemed to believe him. What would happen if he told the real Dream? He didn't even want to imagine that.

Yet, as he was about to leave, he felt two arms go around his waist, squeezing him gently as a head rested on his back. The presence startled him and he was ready to attack. Until he looked at the two arms, seeing the two yellow gloves with their jade bracelets. His soul stopped beating for a moment, not daring to believe that this could be possible.

- At least have the courage to say it to my face, Killer.

Against him, the arms tightened a little more, pushing him to turn around, to see for himself that it wasn't a bad dream. And it wasn't... When he turned, his gaze met the golden one, making his soul purr softly.

- I... I missed you... Killer repeated.

Gradually, a smile came over the guard's face. A sincere smile, far from the many, many fake smiles he had taken in his life. And that smile was contagious, causing Killer to return it as he put his arms around the body that was slowly regaining its warmth.

- I missed you Dream... Killer whispered again, wanting to anchor that sentence to show her how serious he was.

Small black tears rolled down his cheeks, but soon he felt Dream's thumbs come to caress his cheekbones, banishing the worry that had been eating away at the madman. Killer closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the moment, feeling the little guardian's body snuggle and warm against him. Then when he opened them again, one of his empty eye sockets had regained a small gleam of a white pupil, gently confronting the golden one that wouldn't let go.

They were so happy to be together again, but no more words came to them. Gestures were enough. There was no need for more, they understood each other perfectly. So much so that when Killer felt the hands on his cheeks gently tugging at his face, he let himself go. Without needing a single word, they brought their faces closer together, granting each other something they had dreamed of on the other side but never dared to speak. But this time they knew they could, and in sweet silence their teeth sealed together, stopping time around them, making their souls beat as they had never felt before.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity, but also too short for them. The closeness of their bodies made them feel how sincere the other was and they couldn't help but blush when they looked at each other again.

But this moment was short-lived. The guardian's awakening had taken its toll and they were soon separated by the sound of portals opening. Behind Dream, Ink and Blue had just arrived, while behind Killer, Nightmare had arrived.

The two sanses stars grabbed their friend, coming to hide him behind them as they began to insult Nightmare, the latter growling that his spell hadn't lasted long enough. But Dream and Killer didn't seem to care about the quarrel, not taking their eyes off each other, smiling at each other.

The guard was then grabbed by the arm by Ink, wanting to take him to rest, and he didn't object, following his friends to the portal. Nightmare had also summoned a portal, shouting at Killer to return, as the war was about to start again.

But before leaving, Dream and Killer took one last look at each other. They were looking forward to the next battle. They were looking forward to the next battle, looking forward to slipping away like before, even though from now on their time together would have a completely different flavor.

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English is not my language and if you understand French, I encourage you to read the story in its original language : here

I hope you liked the story

#dreamkiller #driller #Dreamtale #dream sans #killer sans #oneshot #fanfic

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luna-almighty-god · 4 years

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Guardian Angel N°4 [Sweet mistake, isn't it?]

Hello, here's the fourth chapter!

This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.

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First Chapter

Previous Chapter

===

“You're still here?!”

Ink burst out laughing when he heard Horror's scream. He easily dodged a bone thrown in his direction and then dropped into the sofa, quietly putting his feet on the table:

“Indeed, this castle is very comfortable!”

The cannibal growled as he turned his head to the corridor:

“CHIEF! INK STILL HITS THE INLAY!”

To which Nightmare didn't respond, probably because he was tired of always interfering. It had been almost four days since the Creator had been quietly squatting in their house, and the bad guys kept trying to kick him out. At least, when they saw him at the beginning of the day, they attacked him. Then after a quarter of an hour of chasing, they would give up and go back to their activities, not without grumbling against the artist.

After all, Nightmare didn't order them to catch their enemy or even shoot him down. He himself, as he left his office, ignored Ink to continue his daily routine. See, sometimes the master of the house would sit down next to the painter to watch TV or just exchange a few words. If at first it had seemed strange to his henchmen, they had decided that a little truce wasn't so bad after all.

And so a fifth day went by. This time Ink was present for lunch and was happy to discover Horror's culinary talents. He joked with Dust and Killer, gave some tips to Cross so that he could dredge Dream without being caught by Nightmare ... and speaking of the nightmare master, he arrived towards the end of the lunch and sat down at the table, starting to eat while the others left the room.

Ink lingered however, smiling:

“I wasn't expecting this, but it's actually really cool at your place!

- Shut up, there's nothing cool about it!

- Ohlala, you're always so bad-faithful! Come on, admit it, you love them, your beloved henchmen!”

Nightmare glanced at him blackly, but did not attack him. That was also new: the goalkeeper took a lot out of him to stop his impulses, and that was really beneficial: his subordinates were less afraid of him, and he could now graze Killer without him panicking.

“Of course he loves them.” Nyx replied for him.

The other two jumped, barely holding back a cry of surprise. They turned back to their friend who had once again appeared out of nowhere and quietly settled down at the table, coming to dive into the still hot dish that hadn't been cleared.

“Horror cooks really well,” he commented.

- Don't be embarrassed.” Nightmare grumbled as he continued to eat himself.

Ink laughed softly:

“Hey Nyx. How's it going?

- Very well, my goodness. How are you? You look tired.”

The painter had a poor smile:

“Oh, yes, I haven't been sleeping much lately, but don't worry!

- Are you worried that Error won't come?”

Ink did not answer but his evasive look was a clear answer. Nyx smiled briefly:

“Don't worry. His patience has run out.”

His two comrades raised an eyebrow and looked at him, perplexed. They were about to interrogate him when they were interrupted by a loud noise. A noise coming from the entrance, followed by the cry of Dust.

Ink and Nightmare immediately abandoned their occupations to rush in from the ruckus, drawing their receptive weapons - brushes and tentacles - in preparation for battle. As for Nyx, he took another bite out of his meal, thinking that his role would soon come to an end.

When he reached the entrance, Ink froze as he recognized the magic of his opposite, and his body shuddered violently as he met the angry gaze of the Destroyer.

Error was in an uncontrollable rage:

“So you were hiding there you bastard!” cried the glitch who held Dust and Killer in his strings.

Seeing his lover in the hands of the Destroyer, Nightmare clenched his fists. He could have attacked but didn't want to take any ill-considered risks. He looked at Horror, who had fainted, having been thrown against a wall, and at Cross, who was also looking for an opening to attack despite a leg injury.

He scolded, the anger growing stronger and stronger:

“How dare you enter my house and attack my subordinates?!

- Shut up, you octopus!" Error replied. You have only what you deserve for taking MY painter from me!”

Despite the situation Ink felt violently blushed. However, he recovered by crossing Nightmare's icy gaze, took a breath and took a step:

“Error, could you...

- SHUT UP! ARE YOU HAVING FUN MAKING ME GO AROUND IN CIRCLES? YOU MUST HAVE LAUGHED WHEN YOU SAW ME LOOKING FOR YOU, EH? I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU PAY!”

The Creator remained forbidden for a moment. Searching for him... ? Error had sought him?! He barely had time to be happy about it when he was attacked by Gasters Blasters. He dodged immediately, holding back a smile: he had missed his fights with his opposite, but now he couldn't give it his all. By then he was in the castle of Nightmare with the Bad Sanses.

He was taken by the Destroyer who suddenly teleported behind him. Damn, he didn't pay enough attention! He closed his eyes waiting for the impact, but a scream of rage and lack of pain made him open his eyes again. He realized that Nightmare had stepped in, grabbing Error with his tentacles.

Ink, although he blamed himself for doing this to his rival, took advantage of this moment to teleport himself back to Killer and Dust, immediately freeing them from their ties. He then turned his attention back to Error, who had managed to escape the tentacles and attacked Nightmare with all his might, his bugs becoming even more violent than usual.

Nightmare, who seemed to be hitting him with a bit of difficulty, couldn't help but giggle:

“You seem to be pissed off at the mistake! Yet it seemed to me that you didn't give a damn about the artist!

- I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO CALLS HIM THAT!”

He was about to carry out a more violent attack but Ink intervened:

“ERROR THAT'S ENOUGH!”

And strangely enough, the Destroyer stopped dead in its tracks, while continuing to tremble with rage. The Creator looked him in the eyes, feverishly:

“Nightmare's right... You've always rejected me, always told me I was nothing to you... Why are you reacting like this?”

Error's anger was replaced by immense confusion, then by palpable shame. He calmed down completely, even taking a step backwards, while looking away:

“Shut up, it's nothing to do with that!”

Ink looked down:

“... You said you wanted to destroy me before Nightmare did, right?”

Error tensed up, looked at him with surprise:

“Wha... ?

- You wanted to kill me with your own hands, you were afraid that someone would steal this feat from you. Don't worry about that, no one took it out on me. But please, if you want to kill me... wait until we are in a quiet UA, where no one will get hurt...”

The Destroyer became livid... and threw himself on Ink, grabbing him by the shoulders with force:

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! I NEVER...”

He paused, gritted his teeth, bowed his head as the Creator raised his.

“... I don't fucking... I don't get it either... I...”

But Ink was no longer paying attention to his words, too shocked by something else:

“... E.... Error, you...”

The one who was questioned did not understand, straightened his face, and became impoverished when he saw how close he was to his opposite. His discomfort only increased when Ink added, tears in his eyes:

“... You're touching me...”

Indeed, he had touched Ink of his own free will. It shocked him as much as the artist, and again there was a long silence. Silence that was cut short by Nightmare who grumbled, annoyed:

“Hey, there are rooms, assholes.”

Error tensed up and began to move backwards, but was held back by Ink, who grabbed his wrists and suddenly teleported them.

Nightmare looked up to the sky and joined his henchmen as they recovered from the attack. His footsteps naturally guided him towards Killer, whom he gently supported, before placing a hand on his cheek to force him to look at him:

“Are you all right?”

Killer got worse, unaccustomed to such attention.

*** ***

Error clenched his fists, confused, unable to speak while Ink, sitting right next to him, silently watched the sky of OuterTale.

This was one of the only things they had in common: their love for this universe, for the stars that overhung them, that offered them the most beautiful and peaceful of spectacles.

But the Destroyer was not in the mood on that day. No, he was far too uncomfortable to be able to relax and enjoy the view. Much too uncomfortable because of what had happened just a few minutes earlier. Too uncomfortable to have lost control, to have been weak, to have been feverish in front of Ink, and especially in the presence of Nightmare.

Damn... (Sighs) He weighed down, resting his chin on his arms, themselves resting on his bent legs. Ink's silence didn't help the situation. That filthy painter who had ignored him for weeks... To think that Error had worried, only to discover that his opposite was the Bad Sanses. That he HAD FUN with the Bad Sanses! Damn, the multiverse wasn't going well at all.

“You've really been looking for me... ?”

He jumped, turned to Ink who looked at him timidly, who didn't dare believe what the Destroyer had told him. The Destructor returned to look up at the sky, embarrassed:

“Perhaps...

- Yes or no?

- Damn the painter... Yes! Yes, I've been looking for you, you little...”

He grunted, holding back yet another insult, tensing up as he felt the gaze of the artist examining him, gauging him.

“Why?” Ink asked again, as if he had a sickly need to satisfy his curiosity.

Error bugged for a moment. What could he say to that? Not the truth. Certainly not the truth!

“I missed you...”

FUCK! THAT WAS THE TRUTH!

He slapped himself mentally not without noticing the stupefied expression on the face of his opposite. It almost made him laugh if he wasn't himself at his worst.

“... You missed me ... ? But you always pushed me away!”

Error growled again, coming to hide his face in his arms. He didn't want to continue this conversation, but he felt Ink would not let go of him. Then he sighed:

"Because you're a pain in the ass, always yelling and sticking me. But... But... But...”

He hesitated, searched for his words, before whispering softly:

“...in spite of everything, I care for you...”

Ink widened his eyes, his mouth wide open, unable to believe what he had just heard. He came a little closer to his opposite:

“Say that again?

- No,” he said.

- Error, please!

- NO!”

The artist puffed up his cheeks, crossed his arms and mimed sulking. This wrung a laugh from the glitch who gave him an amused look:

“You look stupid when you do that.”

Ink smiled back at him:

“I don't mind looking stupid if it makes you happy...”

At the same time, they both get angry and embarrassed by the line that had deliciously sounded in their ear canals.

Ink looked away, decided to change the subject:

“I'm going to have to apologize to Night for the ruckus...”

Night', this all too familiar name made Error frown and lose his smile. His rage suddenly returned, almost as strong as before, grabbing his soul with brutality. His magic crackled with anger, alerting Ink, who didn't have time to react: he found himself on the ground, the Destroyer above him, blocking his wrists and overhanging him with his whole body, giving him a black look.

“Only with me can you be this close. Only with me can you be as familiar. No one else.”

Ink felt a long shiver, both frightened and excited by this look, this voice.

“You are mine”

He came and kissed him violently, without trying to wait for his consent, wrenching a squeak out of the painter. He kissed him savagely, without the slightest restraint, attacking him as if to devour him, making him moan softly, provoking confused but full of desire cries as their two bodies stuck together, suddenly becoming far too hot despite the cool temperature of Outertale.

Ink felt himself caught in this wave of new sensations, didn't notice that his pupils were changing shape too quickly in the excitement. His lower abdomen made him shudder, made him moan again, as he responded as best he could to the onslaught, seeking to deepen the contact with his soul mate.

And in the midst of sighs and groans, as their caresses began to go much further, Ink clearly heard this murmur in his ear, this sigh released by his opposite:

“Don't ever leave me...”

*** ***

The next day, Nyx was visited by Nightmare and Ink. Like the first time, the one with the black bones took his place at the desk while the artist sat on the bed and the master of the house leaned against the wall.

Ink was the first to speak, with an angelic smile on his face:

“Error told me he missed me. He told me that even though I could be a pain in the ass, he cared about me a lot. This is clearly an innuendo to say that he loves me, isn't it?

- Depends, what did you do next? Nightmare asked.

- We had sex all night !”

The nightmare master almost choked, clearly not expecting such a cash answer. He grunted and flipped the painter's finger, which the painter happily returned to him. Nyx smiled his usual smile and scribbled on his notebook, before turning to Nightmare:

“What about you?

- Mm... I took care of Killer. For some reason I didn't understand, he was pissing me off. Then I found out that he was actually jealous that I was spending time with Ink.

- Did you like that?”

Nightmare had a grin:

“Many. It pushed him to take initiatives to show that I belonged to him, but in the end I was the one who got the upper hand.

- Hey, you act shocked when I mention it but you fucked your man too! Bouda Ink.

- Shut the fuck up! And we didn't fuck! We didn't...”

He blushes softly as he looks away:

“We made love. This is different.”

The eyes of the creator began to twinkle:

"So cute! And you finally said 'I love you'?!”

Nightmare became even redder and growled an insult. Nyx and Ink smiled broadly: thus, their friend had indeed passed the test! Everyone had finally gotten what they wanted!

“Ink! Chief! Let's eat!” Horror called from the kitchen.

The two didn't hesitate to head for the door, their stomachs screaming for food. Nightmare, however, stopped in the doorway, drawing the puzzled eyes of the other two. He seemed to think, then turned to Nyx:

“Do you want to come?”

The one with the black bones blinked his eyes, before letting a surprise look appear on his face:

“I thought I wasn't supposed to show my face?”

Embarrassed, Nightmare shrugged:

“Well, at this point...”

Ink smiles, waiting to see that Nightmare had finally accepted their friend.

Nyx also had a smile. A smile that was much bigger than usual, which showed the gentle warmth that had embraced his soul:

“Thank you for the offer, but I'm going to turn it down. I still have things to do.”

A little disappointed, the owner grumbled, but pretended not to:

“As you wish. I'll see you later.”

He left the room, followed by Ink who first made a small sign to Nyx.

Remaining alone in his room, the black-boned one held his notebook gently against him. Nightmare and Ink ... he was glad he hadn't made a mistake: those two had a much better side than he thought.

He tidied his things properly in his bag, then put it on his shoulder and looked one last time at the room he had occupied in recent weeks. Yes, he was really glad he had come here ... he was glad he had made a difference, that he had stopped that timeline from going as wrong as his own.

He had one last smile, listening to the distant laughter coming from the kitchen. And as he quietly teleported away from the castle, he couldn't stop his last words from escaping:

“Goodbye, fathers...”

===

Next chapter

You can support me on my Utip or on my Ko-fi account !

===

Credits =

Nightmare -> Joku

Error -> LoverOfPiggies

Ink -> Myebi

Killer -> Rahafwabas

Cross -> Jakei

Dust -> Ask DustTale

#undertale #inkmare #errink #nightkiller #fanfiction #sans #killer #nightmare #horror #dust #bad sanses #ink #error #cross #dreamtale #Guardian Angel

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luna-almighty-god · 4 years

Text

Comfort a Little Dream N°3 [Isn't it unfair that I still love you?]

This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.

Careful, there are explicit scenes in this story (violence) !

I hope you have a good read!

===

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

===

He loved him. He had loved him as he had never loved anyone, because no one had ever given him such attention, no one had ever given him such love.

He had loved him for his sweetness, his kindness. He had loved him for his looks, his words, his touch. He had loved him like many people, because Dream was loved by all, Dream was not like him.

[ Dream... wasn't like him ]

He hated it. He had hated him like he had never hated anyone, because no one had ever inflicted such suffering on him.

He had hated him for his ignorance, his naivety. He hated him for his innocent smiles, his lack of reaction, his lack of protection. He had hated him for being so different, so perfect, so luminous, so superior to him.

[Dream was superior to him]

[He always was.]

The bullying was nothing compared to his brother's ignorance. The beatings were superficial compared to the blindness of his twin. Why couldn't he see anything? Why didn't he protect him? Did he mean so little to him that his brother, his only family, the person he loved, whom he adulated, whom he admired the most, did nothing about him, did not help him?

He hated it.

[He wanted him to disappear.]

The black apples, his apples, had been a delicious revenge, a delicate attention that had allowed him to quench his vengeance, had allowed him to pay for all his swellings that had so many times mistreated him. He made them suffer as he had suffered, he gave them back his pain a hundredfold, he ... oh yes, yes, he tortured them, and he loved it. Because those Dreamtale Beings were just evil, lying, hypocritical monsters...

[Exactly like Dream]

But he couldn't have killed his brother. He couldn't do it. Was it a manifestation of his love, a part of him that continued to hope, that continued to feel kindness towards his twin?

Oh, no, no, not at all.

Death was only too sweet for Dream. He wanted to destroy it, to destroy it mentally, to show him that the world was not just a happy fairy tale, a beautiful story where everything ends well.

But he had failed. With each attempt, Dream came back stronger, smiled again, gave him love and attention. Dream's keeper was up to his role: he was always optimistic, always believing that positive thinking was the best solution.

Nightmare had gone into a frenzy. He had tried everything. He'd broken his bones, he'd sequestered him, he'd tortured him. The real problem was that he was unable to feel his twin's emotions, as if he had enough control over them that no one could read them. Unless Nightmare was simply unable to feel the positive emotions? The same with nightmares: he couldn't give them to Dream, just as Dream couldn't give him dreams.

And this situation dragged on, dragged on to the point where Nightmare wanted to end it all. He couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take it anymore.

“DON'T TELL ME YOU UNDERSTAND ME! DON'T GIVE ME ANY MORE OF YOUR BULLSHIT! DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU TRUST ME, THAT YOU LOVE ME, THAT YOU WANT WHAT'S BEST FOR ME! YOU'RE A LIAR!”

Dream hadn't said anything back. Dream looked down. Dream... accepted his words, agreed with his words.

[ Dream lied to him ]

Nightmare knew that. He knew that it was all just talk. But to face the fact, to take the truth so abruptly...

That hurt.

Really badly.

He came home that day devastated, paid no attention to his henchmen, locked himself in his room and never came out. Because he would have been unable to face anyone with such a livid face, because he would have been unable to explain his swollen eyes, his tear marks on his cheeks.

Because Dream destroyed it.

[ But Dream wasn't the only one that mattered. ]

Nightmare had first been surprised when Horror knocked on his door, calling him in a voice that sounded worried. He had ignored him, but when the other one insisted he went into a dark rage, opened the door to hit him ... and fell on his henchman holding a meal tray. A meal for him.

Days had followed without any comment from any of his subordinates, without any of them noting the sadness that emanated from him. They acted as usual, bickering like children and annoying the nightmare master. But Nightmare had felt this change, this sweetness and tenderness emanating from them.

The Bad Sanses weren't afraid of him.

When he fell back to Dream, he thought he'd fainted. Failing when he saw his twin who no longer tried to resonate with him, who had given up the idea of bringing him back to the right side. But once again, the Bad Sanses had been there, he had supported and protected him, personally taking care of the guardian of dreams.

When Cross betrayed them to the Star Sanses, Nightmare thought he'd gone mad. His rage had driven him to destroy part of his castle, to massacre everything he could get his hands on, to hurt his subordinates. But they didn't blame him.

They understood his suffering. Nightmare had guilt. He didn't want to hurt them...

That is why he had not hit Cross on his return, although he was not sure he could trust him. Except that the swordsman had swept away his doubts with a wave of his hand: "Dream has told me your story. This is unfair. Everything that's happened to you is unfair. "

Nightmare had frozen.

So... he wasn't the only one who thought so?

Did anyone else know it was unfair?

He thought he'd cracked, but he stuck it out. He was the master of negativity! He couldn't let anyone get at his feelings, discover his weaknesses! Let alone a traitor who had a friendly relationship with his brother!

But Nightmare was weak. Yes, he was weak, he couldn't hide from it. He couldn't keep lying to himself: he was happy that he was finally getting attention, genuine attention, real affection. No lies, no tricks, no pretences.

We loved him for who he was.

[ Dreams don't count anymore ]

[ Dream was just a remnant from the past, a mere obstacle, a meaningless enemy like Ink ]

[ Dreams don't mean anything to him anymore ]

At least, Nightmare thought he'd gotten used to the idea. He thought he'd gotten used to the daily routine.

Until you feel these emotions. Violent negative emotions, emotions he couldn't define the source of. Negative emotions that he could not enjoy, that he could not draw power from.

These negative emotions were not normal.

And Nightmare had this strange feeling. This feeling that these emotions had always been there without him being able to feel them, feels that he could locate them. He had this feeling that they were very familiar to him and that intrigued him, intrigued him but also worried him.

Apprehension was taking hold of him.

And then there was the fight.

[He mocked Dream as usual]

He left him face to face with Cross, knowing that they were friends, knowing that Dream would never dare to make any trouble for him. ]

...wrong?

He was petrified. Petrified of a terror he had never felt, as if all the negativity in the world had gathered at a specific point to implode, to drive him mad.

[ Cross was down ]

[ Cross was wounded ]

He thought he was hallucinating, like everyone else at the scene. His gaze went from Cross, unconscious, to Dream, his face devoid of emotion. A face as inexpressive as Ink's when he wasn't drinking his bottles.

[He didn't recognize his twin.]

The atmosphere had become icy, the tension more stifling than ever. Nightmare... Nightmare was terrified, unable to move, unable to help Cross, unable to attack Dream.

A terrifying realization hit him, slammed him in the face. He felt faint before the horror of the situation, before this truth that could not exist, this truth that should have been impossible: these abnormal emotions that he had been feeling all this time ... these negative emotions that disgusted him, that had been there since he was a child, that he had never been able to define correctly ...

[ Emotionally from Dream ]

[ Dream... has been giving off negative emotions forever ]

Nightmare would've probably thrown up with his stomach turned over by this revelation. Anger, pain, resentment, terror, TERROR!

[ Dream beaming ]

Nightmare froze. He did not react when his henchmen rushed at Cross. He didn't react when he saw Cross moaning in pain, half-conscious, on the brink of death. He doesn't react when it was Ink who healed him.

Because he didn't understand. It couldn't be real. It couldn't have really happened.

Dream was the keeper of positivity. Dream was naive, far too innocent and kind, far too locked up in its bubble of gaiety. Dream was...

- "YOU'RE A LIAR" -

Dream was...

- "LIAR"...-

Dream was... !

[ Dream was a liar ]

[ Chuckles ]

Nightmare became livid. His eye lit up.

He teleported before the stunned eyes of his companions.

He teleported to Dream, to that unknown house he'd never been able to visit.

[Because he could only teleport to places where he felt negativity]

The show left him speechless. His only eye clung to his brother's feverish body, to his body hanging in the void that was painfully crumbling, cracked everywhere, broken in places, close to turning to dust. Then he captured the presence of Shattered, this pale copy, this failed imitation of his twin, this imitation that was almost similar to him except that he was only a scum, a demented being.

And he lives it. He felt it.

This piece washed up in the rubble. That negative sense of insanity.

[ Black apples ]

The horror took him by the guts.

[ Dream had eaten a black apple ]

He drew out his tentacles, propelled them against Shattered to smash him against the wall, strike him with a gaping wound, make him suffer, MAKE him PAY! THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE, HOW COULD HE DARE? HOW DARE HE TOUCH HIS BROTHER?!

He only caught up with Dream through his sharp reflexes, his body trembling with a rage, a hatred that he struggled to maintain, to control. He perceived his brother's gaze, perceived his terror and pain, perceived his little positivity being swallowed up, drowned by negativity.

And he saw his brother sink, close his eyes, pass out.

His brother at death's door.

"SHATTERED!!!!!!!”

This house, this whole universe trembled brutally, wavering in the face of this scream. Dream's counterpart shuddered, barely recovering from the wound inflicted by Nightmare.

The nightmare master went mad with rage. He squeezed his twin against him, his palms trembling against this frail body, his throat tied in the face of such fragility. His vision became blurred, obstructed by tears of anguish, tears of panic that slid down his cheek as he gazed at Shattered without a pupil.

[It's a beautiful day, isn't it?]

His aura eluded him, he lost control, lost mastery of his whole being.

[ Birds are singing, flowers are blooming ]

The space sank into darkness, negativity took over the place completely. Shattered stood up, one hand on his bloody wound, his vital points half removed.

[On days like this...]

Their eyes met. Their eyes lit up.

[ Monsters like you ]

"ARE LIVING A REAL NIGHTMARE"

Nightmare brandishes his tentacles, shoots them straight at his enemy. Shattered smiled, dodged one with a simple step to the side, teleported himself to dodge the other two. The nightmare bent down, dodged a tentacle in turn, and teleported into the heavens, Dream still in his arms. He made a Gaster Blaster appear and leaned on it, firing a straight beam at his opponent.

Shattered contra the blow by protecting himself with bones, projected his tentacles towards Nightmare but missed him, only managing to destroy his Gaster Blaster in a violent explosion. The blast threw Nightmare to the ground. He landed brutally on his feet, grimaced as he felt a pain go through his legs, took a look at Dream to check his condition and then turned back to Shattered.

He turned his soul blue, pinned it to the ground and impaled it on bones. The shattered dream weighed heavily, managed at the last moment to thwart this bad trick, but was wounded in the arm. In a burst of rage he disappeared in a flash, only to find himself behind Nightmare, whom he attacked with a sharp bone. The nightmare also attacked Nightmare with a bone, retaliated, tried to slice him off without being able to reach him.

Shattered ricana, immobilized Nightmare with blue bones before putting him to play with his own Gasters Blasters.

The nightmare master gritted his teeth. He had no choice but to throw Dream to the side before the rays hit him, reducing the place where he was standing to ashes and dangerously diminishing his life points.

Shattered pinned him to the ground, crushed his face with his foot, brandished his tentacles which he was going to take pleasure in driving into the wounded body of the master of nightmares, which he was going to take pleasure in driving into the soul of his enemy.

But he got paint in his face. The surprise interrupted him, he lowered his guard for half a second, long enough to allow Nightmare to push him back, to project him several meters back.

Shattered wiped himself off the handle, looked up, grunted an insult at the sight of Ink standing between him and Nightmare, the brush drawn and the face filled with rage. He prepared to attack the Creator, but his instincts screamed for him to move.

TO MOVE FAST!

He threw himself to the side, squealed in amazement as bluish threads burst against the ground where he stood, dangerously familiar bluish threads.

The broken dream turned its head, shivering with anguish at the sight of Error.

The situation was turning to his disadvantage. Three to one... It was, uh... It was, uh...

[ Scoffs ]

Shattered clenched his fists.

He teleported, disappearing for good from this universe.

Nightmare coughed, the body aching but not enough to stop him from getting up. He saw Ink's confused gaze... And both of them suddenly turned pale, turning simultaneously to Dream lying on the ground.

Dream whose soul had split.

===

Next Chapter

You can support me on my Utip or on my Ko-fi account !

===

Credits =

Dreamtale -> Joku

Shattered Dream -> ErroredArtist’s

Cross -> Jakei

Error -> Lover The Piggies

Ink -> Comyet / Myebi

Dust -> Ask DustTale

Killer -> Rahafwabas

Color -> Superyoumma

Sugar Plum -> undertale Community (formerly NSFWShamecave ?)

#comfort a little dream #Hurt / Comfort #undertale #dreamtale #dream #nightmare #fanfiction #english #translate

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