#Dream x nightmare | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fallenasleepyetagain · 10 months

Text

Sew - Dream/Nightmare Fanfic

NOTE: I do not write Dream and Nightmare as brothers, and they are not related in this story.

Media: UTMV/UTAU

Genre: Apple incident, human AU, pre established relationship (kinda?), general domestic living (I guess) until Nightmare FUCKS EVERYTHING UP, not canon compliant, my own DreamTale lore hehe <3, angst

Characters: Dream, King Nightmare, Opal-Ann (OC), & general unnamed villagers

Pairing: Dream/Nightmare

CW/TW: Minor transphobia, implied sexism, death, idk Nightmare going insane and destroying everything I guess, mentions of gore

Other Notes: I call this one the “Nightmare doesn’t fuck everything up” timeline <3

Word Count: ~6296 Words

Dream paced around the Tree of Feelings, arms crossed his chest. Nightmare was never late, to anything! Especially not when the moon was setting! Dream had woken up extra early to make sure he wouldn't miss Nightmare coming up to rest.

So...where was he?

He bit down on his lip, anxious. He...hoped that the villagers didn't do anything to Nightmare. If anything happened to Nightmare, anything bad at all, he didn't know what he would do! Nightmare was too important to him.

Gentle footsteps crunched the autumn leaves and Dream perked up almost immediately. Nightmare was okay!

Huzzah!!!

"NIGHTMARE!" Dream shrieked, and barreled down the hill.

Unfortunately, Dream didn't have much foresight and therefore did not anticipate that Nightmare wasn't ready for a tackle hug. Upon seeing the look of surprise on his face, Dream knew what was going to happen.

And it was going to happen fast. There was no time to anticipate it, only to take it.

The massive grimoire that Nightmare was holding collided with his head, sending him face-first into the dirt.

Nightmare stared at him for a couple of seconds before bursting into laughter. He hunched over, laughing harder than he ever had before, going so far as to drop his book on the ground.

After taking a second to recover, Dream stood up, spitting out some grass and dirt. Nightmare was still wheezing as he did this, but managed to pick up his book anyway.

"Ahahaha! Ah, ha, ahem. You okay there Dreamy?"

"Eyeah! I'm good."

"Fantastic."

Nightmare walked up the hill and using the pulley system Dream had installed, lowered their chest full of stuff and set the book down inside. He stayed standing for a moment, just looking at it.

Dream plopped up the hill after him, placing his head on Nightmare's shoulder. He looked down at the book Nightmare had put into the chest and spoke, "That's a new book."

"It's a grimoire. It has a bunch of myths and cryptic stuff in it."

"Cool."

"It is cool. Cooler than anything you can wrap your tiny brain around." Nightmare scoffed, flicking Dream's nose.

"Hey!"

Despite the chuckle that left him, Nightmare sat down at the base of the tree with a heavy sigh. He curled up, putting his head in between his knees. His purple eyes stayed focused on the rising sun, his eye bags becoming prevalent.

Dream sat down next to him and got real close. Their shoulders were touching and Nightmare turned his head to look at Dream.

"Nightmare."

"Dream."

"Are...you ok?"

"I'm fine."

Dream nudged Nightmare with his foot, "I know you think I'm an idiot, but I'm not."

"Debatable."

"Nightmare!" Nightmare snorted as Dream retaliated. "I'm serious! I know you better than anyone, and I can tell that something is up with you."

"Talk to me," Dream said softly, practically begging as Nightmare turned his head away, breaking eye contact.

It took him a moment, and it took Dream giving him a soft kiss on his cheek, but Nightmare folded. He always did when it came to Dream. He smoothed out his skirt that had gathered some grass, "I don't like it when the villagers call me a girl."

"Do you not feel like a girl?"

Nightmare shook his head, "...No? At least I don't think so? I think I'd feel better if I was a boy, like you."

"I could call you a boy if it would help. I never really saw you as a girl if it helps, gender is weird."

"Hah. But, yes, it would." Nightmare leaned into Dream, his eyes closing. "Dream, would you mind doing something for me?"

"Never! Whatever you want Nighty."

"Will you take one of my skirts today, and make it a pair of pants? I don't own a pair, unfortunately."

"Of course, I can do that! I haven't sewn a pair of pants in ages..."

"You can do it then?"

"Nightmare!" Dream gasped before grabbing Nightmare's face, squeezing his cheeks, "Of course I can do it! I'd do anything for you.

"You know that. Right?"

"I...do. I do know that." Nightmare put his hands on Dream's, pulling them off his face. He looked down at them, intertwining their fingers.

"One more thing."

"Yeah?"

"If I were to do something mortally abhorrent, something so terrible, that I would be compared to Satan himself, would you forgive me?"

"Haha, what."

"If I did something so dreadful, so horrendous, that it would confirm all those lies and rumors people spread about me, would you still care for me? Would you still love me?" Nightmare's tone shifted, his face in a dark scowl.

"Night I don't-"

"Answer the question Dream. Now."

"I-I mean, of course I would?" Dream sputtered, tucking back some of Nightmare's long black hair behind his ear.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Cool. See? That wasn't so hard." Nightmare hummed, suddenly completely calm. "I'm heading off to bed, g'night."

Despite Dream's protests for an explanation, Nightmare kissed him on the forehead before standing up and leaping into the tree. For someone who wore skirts all the time and had hair constantly in his face, Nightmare was very skilled when it came to climbing trees.

That was that. Dream had no chance of getting Nightmare now, not when he was in the tree. He huffed, what was that all about? Was Nightmare planning on doing something bad?

It was entirely possible that he was. Nightmare had hidden things from Dream in the past. But he had gotten so serious and extremely eloquent...it made Dream worry.

Regardless, Dream figured he should get to work on the pants. It wouldn't be that hard, he was surprisingly good at sewing! It was just built into him. The villagers hated when he did it though. They believed that since he was a boy, he shouldn't be doing the sewing.

There were many things wrong with that line of thinking, of course. One of the things about it that bothered Dream was that it implied that he was a boy. And he guessed he was? Although the way that the other villagers were boys felt different than how Dream felt like a boy. He wasn't even sure if "boy" was the right word.

In the chest that Nightmare had lowered stored everything they owned. Which, to be fair, wasn't much. It was mostly books that Nightmare had been given by the local librarian (she was a lovely lady) and extra sets of clothing. Most of the clothes in there were Dream's, since he tended to get messier than Nightmare.

The longest skirt that Nightmare owned sat neatly on the other side of his books. Worst case scenario, he'd have to make Nightmare a new skirt, which he could do easily. He made himself a skirt once to match Nightmare, but tensions had begun to rise between them and the villagers, so he never had the chance to wear it out.

The last thing he wanted was to give more reason for the villagers to harass Nightmare.

Yes, he knew about it! He wasn't stupid! And Nightmare wasn't the only one who was suffering because of them. They weren't exactly saints to Dream either. For being the villagers' Guardians, they seemed to hate them a lot.

Either way, he was going to make Nightmare those pants! Nightmare would look good in pants, although he could pull off anything if he wanted to. He bundled the skirt up into his arms and trotted into town.

Most of the townsmen were already up and doing work, but many of the stores didn't officially open until Nightmare was gone.

Which was, wow, harsh.

Regardless, by the time he got into town, people were out and about. He kept his head down, just looking at the skirt in his arms. Occasionally people said good morning to him, and he replied quickly, not wanting to get up into a conversation with anyone.

Since the last summer, every single conversation he had with anyone except Nightmare had something to do with him "getting away from the witch."

It upset him. Nightmare was the furthest thing from a witch or a demon or whatever they were calling him! Dream adored Nightmare, and he just wanted him to be happy and safe.

The dread he felt when he approached the store that he needed to go was insurmountable. The lady who worked inside was one of the worst when it came to being cruel toward Nightmare and harassing Dream. If he could avoid talking with her, then he would.

Maybe he'd get lucky and her daughter would be at the counter instead. All he needed was some dark purple thread, that was it. He had lilac and a very desaturated purple, but he wanted this to be perfect.

Going from skirt to pants would be difficult, and he wasn't sure how many seams he'd be able to hide. It'd be a new process, but he'd figure it out. He always did.

A soft bell rang as he entered and his face fell as he saw who it was behind the counter. It wasn't the daughter, that was for sure. The woman was working on her project and Dream braced himself.

"Oh, good morning Dream."

"Mornin. Can I..." his eyes scanned the array of threat colors behind her, "have that dark purple right there?"

"Dream, look. I respect that you are a guardian and all, but that purple is incredibly expensive. I can't just give you it without you giving me money."

Ah, right. This was a business. Dream forgot about that.

"Plus, I see that skirt. You should make Nightmare mend her own clothing instead of going to those frivolous poetry readings."

For a moment, Dream's mind went dark and his vision red. Those readings were one of the only things Nightmare loved about the village. It was the only place that Nightmare could show off his literary prowess.

The people who went were all unmarried men, and Nightmare fit right in. He commanded the room whenever he spoke. While Dream didn't understand most poetry (Nightmare often wrote his poems in Latin or Greek; languages Dream didn't understand) he knew how important it was to him.

Dream had actually gone to one of the poetry readings and watched in awe as Nightmare's words painted a picture in the air where they hung. His voice captivated Dream, it took him by his collar and pulled him close.

Maybe Nightmare was a witch. Dream didn't mind being under his spell.

Thoughts of Nightmare swarmed his mind as he looked into the pale eyes of the lady across the counter. Nightmare wanted pants and Dream was going to give it to him, no matter what!

Even if it meant lying in the worst way possible.

"I know. Nightmare was actually wanting to learn how to mend clothing. So I figured I'd get some thread to show how it's done!"

"You clever boy," Dream internally scowled. I'm older than your entire bloodline. "Here, I can't give you much, but I hope it teaches that girl to do something productive."

The dark purple thread was put onto the counter and Dream swiped it without a second thought. He didn't care what the lady was saying to him after that and he left the store in a fit of rage.

What did Nightmare do to deserve that kind of treatment?! What did Dream do to get the harsh criticisms from people?! What did either of them ever do?!?

All they ever did was be forced into the position of guardian and protect the apples!

There was never a day that went by that he wasn't grateful for the placement of the tree that they lived under. It was on a high hill, overlooking the village. Dream and Nightmare could look down on the villagers, but they couldn't get a clear look up. It was awfully steep, but Dream didn't care.

Once he got to the top of the hill, he threw himself down, anger still commanding his every move. He took in a deep breath, feeling Nightmare's skirt in his hands. He looked up, and seeing Nightmare resting away in the tree made him feel better.

Nightmare's long black hair was draped over his face, and Dream's heart couldn't stop racing. Nightmare was so...so handsome and perfect! Dream couldn't take it!

Suddenly his vigor returned, and he began working on the pants. He used his own pants as reference, since they were the same height. He had pulled out his sewing stuff from the chest, it resting next to him in the grass as he worked. As the day passed, the boys of the village ran up the hill, begging Dream to hang out with them.

They huffed and poured and whined when he shook his head and told them no. It was mid-afternoon when they finally gave up and went to play by themselves. Dream didn't mind hanging out or playing with them, it made him feel young. But sometimes work came first, and he had to do it.

Although he wasn't working the whole day. He somehow managed to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon, hands mid-stitch when he lost consciousness. It was a miracle he didn't end up stabbing himself with the needle.

It was the evening when he woke up, and he felt like dying. Those afternoon naps killed him!

Dream rubbed his eyes and looked down at his lap. In his hands was the skirt that he was working on and, oh! He was almost done, surprisingly. There were a few seams he needed to clean up and hide, but it was looking like pants now. To his left, was a small bag full of grapes and blueberries.

On the bag were the initials of the local librarian, an old lady named Opal-Ann. She also cared about Nightmare, and always pushed him to read and write. Dream liked her. She was one of the only good people in the entire village.

Old people were just like that, he supposed.

The fruit was fresh and he placed a few pieces in his mouth. He didn't need food, being immortal and all. But he liked the full feeling in his stomach when he did eat. He'd eat just about anything, including things considered inedible.

Nightmare fed him a skull once.

That was fun.

Just as the sun went down, Dream had finished. He stood up and looked at his fine-crafted work. It was perfect and he grinned. It would go perfectly with Nightmare's shirts and he was sure Nightmare would love it.

Oh jeez, Dream didn't want to wait! He opened the chest and threw the pants into it before beginning his ascent into the tree. He had been climbing trees his whole life, but it was always a struggle for him. He would often slip and fall and give Nightmare heart attacks.

Nightmare, of course, was graceful and quick whenever he scaled up a tree. He was efficient and did just about anything. Dream's excitement shot him up the tree and he perched himself a few feet away from where Nightmare was sleeping.

It was pretty impressive how Nightmare was able to sleep in the tree. Dream just slept on the ground. Nightmare was draped over a branch and his limbs seemed like they were clamped around it.

"Nightmare..." Dream whispered. No movement.

"Nightmare."

Nothing.

Dream tore a dead stick from the tree and poked Nightmare with it. He stirred for a moment and Dream huffed impatiently.

With incredible accuracy, Dream nailed the stick right onto Nightmare's face, "Nightmare!"

"AAUGAH!?"

Then he slammed against the ground. Dream hummed in satisfaction and hopped down himself. Nightmare was not pleased with him. The moment Dream was on his feet Nightmare yanked him close by the collar and seethed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I finished your pants!" Dream chirped, taking Nightmare's hands off of his collar and holding them.

All of Nightmare's crankiness dissipated almost immediately. He took his hands from Dream's and rubbed his eyes, trying to fully wake up. Dream walked over to the chest and pulled out the pants before showing them to Nightmare. His stunning purple eyes lit up as he took them from Dream.

Without saying a word, Nightmare grabbed Dream's hand and pulled him down the hill. The sun was still setting in the sky but the light it gave was fading. The moon would be new that night as well, meaning that there would be little light to guide them.

Getting to the library before dark would be easy though, since it wasn't far from the Tree. It was actually on the opposite side of the village from the Tree, meaning that you could see it from the top of the hill.

Most people were inside by now, but the occasional person was closing up shop. One of the people, of course, was the lady who sold him the thread for Nightmare's pants. He avoided making eye contact with her.

There was an aura of tension that radiated from everyone outside, Nightmare included. He was holding Dream's hand so tight that it hurt. As if he was worried Dream would run away the moment he had the chance.

Nightmare walked with power, as if he had reserved himself to something. Dream didn't know what it was. His eyes darted around at the villagers and their glares pierced his soul.

Is this what Nightmare had to deal with every night? Dream squeezed Nightmare's hand and sped up so he was closer to him.

Much to Dream's relief, they reached the library sooner than he expected.

Before Nightmare could grab the door's knob, it opened. Dream saw the person slowly reveal herself from the other side of the door. She was around the same size as them, and was very old. She had to be the littlest, oldest lady Dream had ever seen. She had a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and a long skirt. It has been ages since he actually went to the library and she looked much older.

"Greetings Opal-Ann," Nightmare stated flatly, entering the library without even taking a glance at her. He finally dropped Dream's hand and beelined it to the room in the back.

"Good evening young man." Then she turned her attention to Dream. "Hello. It's been quite a while, Guardian of Positivity."

Dream shifted uncomfortably as she closed the door behind him. "...Hi."

"Dream, dear." She put a hand on his shoulder, and her eyes fell. Dream raised an eyebrow at her. "Please, protect him. I worry about what they'll do to him when I'm gone. Don't let them do anything to him."

"What...do you mean?"

Opal-Ann just patted his shoulder before turning away and slowly trotting off. Dream thought that he should say something but he couldn't find it in him to even speak.

He turned his attention to Nightmare who had stepped out of the back room. His black hair had been pulled back and neatly settled into a ponytail. Dream couldn't control himself as he gasped and ran over to Nightmare, picking him up.

There was very little room in the library, but Dream twirled Nightmare anyway. The two were quiet, but Dream squealed silently anyway. Nightmare didn't attempt to break free like he usually did. He gripped onto Dream's back, shoving his face into his neck like a lifeline.

"You look so handsome." Dream whispered, setting Nightmare down. He stayed there for a moment, keeping Dream close, before pulling away. His hands came up to Dream's cheeks and he scoffed.

"And you look absolutely exhausted."

Per usual, Nightmare was right. His hand ran over Dream's eye bags and he yawned. "Here." Near the entrance of the library, was a bench with cushioning. The bench, which was more adjacent to a cabinet, was pushed up against a wall of books.

"Lay down on it." Nightmare instructed, "I have a book I've been wanting to read, so you can use my lap as a pillow."

Dream did just that. He slipped his boots off before climbing onto the cushion, of course, since he didn't want to get it dirty. The moment his head hit Nightmare's lap, a wave of fatigue hit him. His eyes shut before he could figure out what was happening.

The last thing he remembered before prompting passing out was the feeling of Nightmare running his hand through his fire-red coils.

Then, there was screaming.

It was startling and Dream rolled off the cushion, landing hard onto the floor. His eyes darted around, but Nightmare wasn't anyone in his vision.

Shit!

What had happened?

On the opposite side of the library was a large group of people, shouting and arguing. He stumbled to his feet and slipped his boots back on.

The other side of the library was Opal-Ann's room. Panic surged through Dream as he rushed to the other side, shoving his way through the people in front of the door.

Opal-Ann was in her bed. Dead. Her face was peaceful, and she looked like she was asleep. But the feelings of those around him told him otherwise.

"What...happened?"

"That witch killed her!"

"WHAT?!" Dream was in shock. He was angry too. Nightmare adored Opal-Ann and her library, there was no way that he would hurt her! He couldn't, wouldn't, believe that Nightmare would do such a thing. "Nightmare wouldn't do that!"

"You're under her spell, of course you think she wouldn't."

"Opal-Ann was under a spell too, that's why she was unable to see her death coming."

"Poor woman..."

Dream couldn't stand being there anymore. He ran out of the room, out of the library. The situation outside was even worse than the one inside.

All of the villagers were crowded, shouting and talking amongst themselves. They had torches and pitchforks and oh shit.

They were going to kill Nightmare.

Where was Nightmare?!

After forcing his way through the crowd, Dream got a glimpse of Nightmare's black hair from the top of the hill. He ran up at a speed he didn't know that he could go. Before he reached the top, he stumbled and slammed down into the ground.

"Nighty..." Nightmare looked down at him, a determined look in his eyes. Dream inhaled sharply as he saw one of the black apples in his hands.

What was he planning?

"Nightmare, what's going on? They want to kill you, tell them you didn't-"

"Shh." Nightmare crouched down, putting a finger against Dream's lips. Dream looked up at him helplessly, blushing at the sight of him, despite the circumstances. God, he looked good in pants. "There's nothing either of us can do now. Do you remember the promise you made me?"

With the finger against his lips, he couldn't respond properly. But Dream nodded anyway.

"Good." Nightmare took a deep breath and helped Dream to his feet. He gently pushed back one of Dream's coils behind his ear, before sighing deeply. "I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me for this?"

"For whaAHG-?!" Dream rolled down the hill, still in shock as Nightmare pushed him. He tumbled down the hill, getting grass and dirt in his mouth. He looked up, the sun barely peaking over the hill and the tree. He couldn't see Nightmare's face.

But he could hear him.

This moment seared itself into his mind. It would never leave him, even years after.

The world stood still, and the wind began to howl. It wasn't cold, but goosebumps rose on Dream's arms and he shivered.

Bile shoved its way through his esophagus as Nightmare bit into the apple in his hands. The negativity was overwhelming. How was that even possible? Nightmare had only eaten the one!

Nightmare was clever though. Always was.

Especially good with magic too. There was a reason he was called a witch after all. Dream's only guess was that Nightmare had, somehow, allowed one apple to hold the power of multiple?

No, that was stupid.

How did he...?

There wasn't any time to ask as screams rang out and the mob of people trampled over him.

The valley erupted into chaos.

Dream struggled to get to his feet, and almost immediately regretted it when he did. Hot, red blood splattered against his face and he felt dizzy as he saw it on his hands.

With his heart beating heavy in his chest, he began his ascent up to the tree, and to Nightmare. He kept his head down, using his right arm to block his face. He could hear the screams, the squelching of blood and guts splatting against the ground.

A scream of his own came as the tree came crashing down, a large branch being flung at him. Dirt and muck came flying up and he dove to the ground.

Once his eyes opened, the golden shimmer of an apple greeted him. As his world crumbled around him, it called to him. He cradled the apple in his hands, feeling its warmth.

The sound of screams and buildings being torn down echoed in the background. Dream didn't want to look. He didn't want to associate those sounds with Nightmare.

A tear slipped from his eye as he glanced up the hill, the decimated remains of the tree being the only thing up there. The apples that once glowed in shimmering blacks and yellows were now on the ground, rotting.

Dream brought the apple to his mouth, and with a crunch all too familiar, he bit into it.

It tasted positively delicious.

The juices from it split down his chin, and he almost forgot where he was and what was happening. Sheer power surged through him, and suddenly he felt more reckless than he ever had before. He got to his feet, the gravity of the situation hitting him once more.

It was worse than he thought. Nightmare, who was barely recognizable due to being nothing but a purple and black blur in the air, had killed and destroyed everything.

How was he supposed to react? Was he supposed to be angry? Scared? Proud? He felt like he should be angry. He felt like he should be enraged at Nightmare, or paralyzed as he watched his unfold.

Unfortunately for Dream, he was neither of those things. He felt nothing but the adrenaline pumping in his veins and the need to stop Nightmare at all costs.

Violence wasn't necessary, at least Dream didn't think so. If he could just talk to Nightmare, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe they would have to leave town forever, considering the damage. But he would figure it out.

He always did. He had no other choice.

Nightmare was in the center of town, horrible black tentacles thrashing behind his back. Blood was splattered on his pants and arms, but none of it appeared to be his own.

Bodies were torn apart and the final survivors were trying to stand their own. It didn't do them much good though, Nightmare was powerful. Too powerful. He had to stop this before Nightmare got rid of everything!

The steepness of the hill didn't stop him from running down it, keeping his balance the entire time. Power ran through his veins, and the suffocating negativity radiating from Nightmare became easier to manage.

"Nightmare!" He called.

No response. Nightmare didn't even turn to look at him.

"Stop it! Let's talk about this, please!" There was desperation in his voice that he didn't realize he was feeling. As he approached, the feeling of adrenaline was replaced with fear.

Never had Nightmare made him feel like that. The person who had lived with him for century after century was making him afraid.

Dream was terrified.

Terrified of Nightmare.

"Nightmare...!" Despite his fear, he kept running down the hill.

"NIGHTM-!"

The last thing he saw was Nightmare whipping around and glaring at him with bright, teal eyes.

It was safe to say that the Guardian of Positivity died that day.

Becoming stone isn't what most mortals think it is. It's not a state of unconsciousness that most think it is. Dream will tell you that.

It wasn't a sensation like sleep or being in a coma. It was nothing. No thoughts, no movement.

Perhaps death was too harsh. Perhaps Dream and Nightmare didn't want to word it that way. Being turned to stone, in Dream's own words, was like being trapped in time.

And when he woke up?

"-MARE!!!"

It was like no time had changed at all.

Dream crashed and collapsed into someone. This was a surprise. Especially considering that he should've been running down toward Nightmare. Nightmare, who was destroying their world.

Sweat trickled down his back. Why? He knew that people were cruel, that they hated Nightmare. But why didn't he talk to Dream about it all? He could've done something, anything!

There was a new scent in the air, on the body his face was smooshed up against. He couldn't describe it. It was unfamiliar and strange.

The stranger's hands were gentle with him, lifting him by his forearms. Dream craned his neck upwards, and stepped back, yanking his arms away from the stranger.

Stranger? No no, this man wasn't a stranger.

Those teal eyes, how he parted his hair. He could recognize it from a mile away.

The man's eyes, Nightmare's eyes, were soft. To Dream, the change was instantaneous.

From a glare to a soft look. It was jarring.

"What-?" Dream took another step back. The village was no longer in ruins. But it wasn't back. It was destroyed, and nature had taken it over once more.

Nightmare, at least Dream assumed this was Nightmare, was vastly different. First and foremost, he was tall. Too tall, Dream thought. How dare he? His hair was short, and he looked handsome as ever.

The crown he always wore was missing. Replaced with silver accents on his black and teal suit.

"Who...?" Dream didn't back up as Nightmare took a step forward. He was treating him like a frightened animal. "...Nightmare."

It wasn't a question.

Of course he recognized him.

How could he not?

"God I've missed you." Nightmare, whose voice was significantly deeper, used the back of his fingers to caress his cheek.

"Nightmare what- what is going on?"

There was a beat of silence, and Nightmare took Dream by his hand and led him up the hill. He sat down on the stump of the Tree, and gestured for Dream to sit down next to him.

The stump was covered in moss and bugs, nature climbing over it as it did on everything else. Dream plopped down, looking around at all the damage.

"I have something for you."

"Hm?" Dream perked up.

Much to his surprise, Nightmare draped half of the flag that sat around the Tree around his shoulders.

It must've been destroyed when Nightmare attacked the Tree since only half of it was here. But that didn't explain anything! One moment, the village smelled like blood and guts, and another it was dead quiet.

"What do you know?"

"About what?"

With a small scoff, Nightmare rubbed his forehead, "About what happened that day."

"You mean what happened just now? Or, what should've been just now..."

Nightmare put a hand on the bottom of his mouth, thinking. "Shit, you probably wouldn't..."

After a moment of thinking, Nightmare decided to just tell it straight. "I turned you to stone Dream. Around," he waved his hand around, "Eighty or so years ago?"

"EIGHTY YEARS?! What were you DOING??" Dream shouted, grabbing onto Nightmare's shoulders. He shook his head, rattling together his thoughts. "What happened? One moment you're, you've got long hair and are my sized and now you're tall as shit!"

As Dream spoke, Nightmare nodded along. "How fascinating...You don't have any memory of your time in stone?"

"Not at all."

Dream watched as Nightmare thought (something he often found himself doing), leaning in as Nightmare gently ran his hands through his fire-red coils.

"Nightmare?"

"Yes?"

Averting his eyes, Dream shifted on the stump. "Why did you do...this?" He gestures towards the town.

"I was angry." He sat back, "They called me a monster. So I figured I'd give them one."

"You could've talked to me. You didn't have to do it so suddenly! We could've, I could've done something."

"Oh, Dream." Nightmare tilted his chin upwards, "Always so hopelessly optimistic."

"Hey!"

"That wasn't an insult! It's cute."

Blood rushed through Dream's body, his cheeks flushing as it did so.

This wasn't the first time Nightmare had called him cute. In fact, Nightmare called him that all the time! This time though? This time felt different. Maybe it was the confidence and the power exulting off of him, or maybe it was the height difference?

Whatever it was, it made Dream's heart race.

"I had been planning this for a long time. You remember my grimoire, yes? In that book," Nightmare didn't even give him the chance to answer! "It tells the story of someone from before our time, don't look at me like that, who gained power from the negativity apples.

"He, of course, was killed by the power, due to his body being unable to handle it. I knew that I could, of course. I figured that the results would be the same, and if they wanted a scapegoat. Might as well give them one."

Dream huffed, leaning into his legs. As much as he wanted to say to Nightmare that doing that was an awful idea, what else could they have done? Nightmare was blamed for the death of Opal-Ann.

The worst part about it all was the fact that it was something Nightmare had been planning something and he didn't know about it!

It was all too much.

Wordlessly, Dream scooted closer to Nightmare and put his head on his shoulder. It had been a long day. Or, he supposed, a long eighty years! He was exhausted.

"Here. Let's get you home." Nightmare scooped Dream up with ease, carrying him bridal style.

"I am home...?"

"No, you're not."

And he refused to elaborate.

That wasn't new to Dream. Nightmare was always the type to say shit and then never explain it.

It was one of his least favorite things about Nightmare. It made him insufferable sometimes.

"I'll explain everything later, alright?" Nightmare spoke, gently poking Dream in the cheek with a tentacle. For a moment, Dream was startled by it, but he didn't shove it away. "Rest now. I've got you."

Dream didn't need telling twice.

While Dream might've been a light sleeper, which made sleeping during storms difficult, he was quick at falling asleep. It was...incredibly impressive actually.

Without any time at all, Dream was snoring softly in Nightmare's arms. He couldn't help but bask in it. He never thought that he would hear that sound again.

As he walked down the hill in great strides, he contemplated how to tell Dream about all that he had learned in the past one hundred years.

Yes, he had lied, you'll have to forgive him for that.

It was unlikely that Dream would've been so forgiving towards him if he said that he was left in stone for a whole century. He knew that Dream could handle knowing that he was trapped away for eighty years.

Anything higher would send him into a tantrum.

And honestly? Nightmare was not in the mood to deal with that nonsense.

The discovery of the Multiverse and all of the universes inside of it was something he found incredible. There was more knowledge to gain than he had ever known! It would have blown his mind at four-hundred years old!

However, the issue was Dream.

How would he who cared too much about everything and anything handle the knowledge that there were billions upon billions of universes with an infinite amount of people in them?

Nightmare was afraid that it might kill him!

He supposed that the answer was to take it one step at a time. Slowly introduce him to his surroundings, new technology, and whatnot.

It shouldn't take long. Dream picked up on things quicker.

A golden hair caught his attention and he stopped at the base of the hill. In the middle of Dream's bright red hair was a shimmering blonde hair.

That isn't right.

Nightmare squinted, as he looked closer he could see the forming of more blonde hairs. If he was right, and he always was, Dream should be exactly as he left him.

No weird, stray golden hairs.

Unless...

With a quick pivot, he turned on one foot, glaring at where the tree used to be. Despite his many years of planning, when he followed through with his goal, he was very out of it. It took his body many years to fully adjust to the sheer amount of negative energy power in him.

The majority of that century was spent dealing with the high that the apples gave him.

It was entirely possible that Dream managed to get his hands on a positivity apple.

At the moment, there were too many factors to tell it precisely.

It could've been an apple, or the stone he was trapped in, or Nightmare leaving the universe. Only time would tell, and Nightmare had plenty of it.

If was an apple, it was likely that Dream would get taller and would gain more powers of some kind. Nightmare would keep an eye on it all.

He pressed his lips against Dream's forehead.

God, how good it felt to be back together once more.

#fallen’s writing #utmv #dream (utmv)#king nightmare #dream/nightmare #dreammare #dream sans #nightmare sans #dream x nightmare #nightdream #fanfiction #dreamtale

4 notes · View notes