#anfie writes

[anfie-in-the-box]

Turns, twists, and paradoxes

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。。。

Notes

It's been finished for a while, just didn't feel like uploading anything. It really takes effort to get the post done, with all the links, the credits, proofreading, etc.

Also yeah, it's the second x-tra! Since @zu-is-here insists on drawing illustrations for this fic, readers get more x-tra scenes!

Enjoy!

。。。

X-tra 2

Horror hopes he knows where to shortcut to find Murder. He doesn't want him alone after a fight; never again.

Murder isn't in his room, but that's okay. Horror has a few other places to check. He can't feel the other's emotions like Nightmare can, but he knows Murder better than anyone, so of course he'll find him.

Just let him not be too late. Murder needs him.

Horror shortcuts and shortcuts. The castle is silent and empty — it's weird not to hear a single soul, no spars on the yard, no smells of cooking — someone is, was, always awake here. The castle was alive despite overwhelming, suffocating negativity, and now it's dead. For good, once Horror and Murder leave as well. It feels strange to even consider leaving the place behind, yet it's only logical — nothing stops them anymore. They can have a try at a happy ending of their own.

Horror finds Murder in one of the balconies where he sits right on the floor, breathing deeply. He's meditating, Horror knows, so he doesn't interrupt. Instead he sits quietly in front of Murder and watches his deceivingly calm features, looking for a sign of distress. Murder is particularly vulnerable before and after gaining EXP, and while Horror couldn't really help before — Nightmare would never let them comfort each other when their negative emotions were high, only after they calmed down by themselves — he can now. So he's here. It's new, so he's not sure what exactly to do, but being around people always seemed to ground Murder, if only a little, so Horror will keep him company. They worked together for so long they grew attached despite their differences and their past. Horror was at odds with most of others, mostly because unlike them, he cared about his brother and his people and couldn't even imagine killing them. In a sense, he was lucky, never once living through what they call a Genocide timeline; but he had a hell of his own.

Nightmare only picked up toys long broken, after all. Those he could bend and twist into loyalty. Some managed to escape his grasp — Cross wasn't the first traitor, not at all, although he's the only one who joined Dream and therefore put a target much bigger than usual on his back. Nightmare does not forget, and he does not forgive.

Or at least that's how it used to be. Nightmare did bow and thank them for help, after all. And earlier, he did let them go without a word.

They're not free yet, though. Maybe will never be. But now they can make a first step. Together with Murder, Horror hopes. He doesn't want to leave his partner alone.

Murder opens his sockets, mismatched eye-lights focusing on Horror.

Neither talks until Murder twitches, "Did you want something?"

"Just make sure you're alright," Horror responds. "Well, as much as possible," he corrects.

Murder hugs his knees, curling into himself. "Papyrus didn't make an appearance, if that's what you'd like to know. I don't know if it's meditation or he just doesn't feel like it."

"That's okay," Horror assures. "There's no rush anymore."

Murder lowers his gaze. "Are we really leaving?" he asks. Something in his tone breaks Horror's heart. He's come to care so much about his partner.

"I don't know," he answers honestly. "I have to ask Farmer if he's okay with it. But I don't think he'll refuse, especially if we promise to help."

"We're both unstable," Murder says. "And they're peaceful. Would it work?"

Horror knows what he's really asking. What if I snap? What if you snap? Horror doesn't know how to answer that. What he knows for sure is, "We won't be alone anymore."

Murder grins. "Don't know about you, but I was never alone in the first place. Not since you…" He quiets and whispers, smile smaller but more genuine: "Thank you."

"Thank you, too," Horror grumbles. It's not easy to be so open after years of hiding, even before Nightmare came for him, but for Murder, he can do it.

They fall silent, sitting on the cool floor, looking at each other. They're both roughed up, though not injured too seriously. Some food and a bath will heal them in a moment. Maybe good sleep, too, though they won't be sleeping any time soon. Or at least Horror won't.

"Why do you think Nightmare returned?" Murder asks, uncertain and vulnerable. He looks Horror in the eye, waiting for his response nervously.

"I think," Horror says, "Nightmare needs something he left here. Probably those precious books of his. And besides, we knew it would happen sooner or later, didn't we? We were ready as we'd ever be."

Murder nods thoughtfully, reaching out. Horror lets him touch and caress his hands. Intimacy is difficult, but Murder deserves comfort, and Horror is ready to provide.

"It's so weird seeing him like this," Murder murmurs softly. He must be scared to share his thoughts so openly, and so is Horror, but they will manage for sure. There's nothing stopping them anymore. They don't have to hurt anymore. They can heal.

"It is," Horror agrees. "Whatever happened that got rid of his corruption changed him drastically, huh?"

Murder doesn't answer — there's no need to talk anymore.

So they sit together, despite the odds, against the ever-present oppressing air of an AU with hopes and dreams long gone. They're not quite ready for whatever will come next, but Horror wants to face the future by Murder's side.

。。。

Credits

Undertale © Toby Fox

Horror!Sans © horrortalecomic

Murder!Sans © ask-dusttale

Read it on ao3

Read Russian version on ficbook or fanficus

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Notes

I told you Murder and Horror would show up again, but did you expect it to be so soon? Even I didn't, but it really wanted to be written, so I couldn't ignore it.

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#anfie writes #x-tra dark cream #horrordust #platonic or romantic? you decide! #horror!sans #murder!sans #utmv

[bluepallilworld]

Sorry for not reblogging the ship week arts and writings currently, I do not have the mental and physical energy to properly gush about all those incredible and beautiful masterpieces

I swear the second I can it will be full tagged reblog apocalypse

That's a threat

Kudos to my lovely participants, I love you you're doing great keep giving me emotions

#delete later #friday I swear #who knew that internship would ship away at my capacity at writing lovely tags other than keysmash #hehe sorry for being a softie #decided you deserved the best so wait a bit #I see you #Drag' AC Anfie Yuyu Zuz... #I see you and you put smiles in my notifications thanks

[galaxyofwrites]

You said you weren't magic,

But I'm under your spell.

My heart rushing in a panic,

Is it Heaven or is it Hell?

Yet, I know there ain't a chance

You'd look at a girl with these scars.

So I will push, not allow this dance,

Even when I can't stop looking at your stars.

I am but the water, the tide.

You're the lights on the darkest night.

I want to stop it, believe me, I tried.

But I can't help it, my delight or my fright–

My heart is split down the middle,

For one I lost and one I can't claim.

What is the solution to this riddle?

Oh, it will hurt all the same…

#galaxyofwrites #dungeons and dragons #dnd writing #poetry #universe: the lost drop of blood #character: anfie o'reilly

[sunnytobio]

and i HATE the dumbass witty one-liners. it’s what they market off of and then fill the entire book with nothing else

#FTR i love romance #like im not anfi-romance or anti-YA #im anti BAD WRITING!! slay #wheres the SUBTANCE????!! wheres the LOVE FOR YOU WRITING???

[the-path-to-redemption]

I watched these videos on Ironwood and Adam and wanted to hear your opinion about them. Saw some people voicing how these two youtubers are anfi Rwby in general and saying "you hate RT direction bc it's not the way you wanted it to be 😡" I thought they made good points and I don't see the issue on why these videos are hate

https://youtu.be/DuTVamL2n_Q?si=o3Q7vW2DXfW7m70j

https://youtu.be/1ZiQAq_nf1s?si=gB-RjL7fcrAqH3qM

Well, it's because these two characters are some of the most controversial ones in RWBY's storyline, and because of how they ended up in the narrative, the FNDM has this stupid fucking idea that anyone who dares to criticize the writing that Adam and Ironwood were put through even though these are very valid criticism.

The thing is, anyone with a fucking braincell would see that the writing that went into these two contained so much bigotry it's fucking blinding. Adam was written as a SLAVE, Ironwood is disabled (both of them are) and was constantly tormented by his trauma at the Fall of Beacon, but for some reasons, this mean that they are the bad guy for not acting enough of helpless victims and every terrible act they did was ham-fisted in just so the writers can justify butchering and encouraging hate on these two. EVEN THOUGH THEY WROTE THEM THIS WAY.

There is no one clear answer as to why these two videos on these two characters are met with hate; you can disagree, but to say that these criticisms are invalid because "it's not how they wanted the show to be" is a fucking stupid ass retort. The show legit DOES NOT have a direction, it doesn't know what it wants, and stop pretending that the writers at RT aren't bigoted as fuck when it comes to representing any marginalized minorities in their story. Stop erasing Ironwood and Adam's identity as disabled people, one of which was a fucking child slave, just because you don't like their characters. Grow a fucking brain and see past the goddamn propaganda.

If a media is presenting the person fighting for their rights in an oppressive society as an irredeemable monster therefore their argument is invalid as a whole and the status quo should be maintained, they are selling you propaganda.

If a media is presenting a person with mental disorders and extreme physical disabilities as an inhuman and dangerous individual who seek great harm to others, and should be perceived as a threat that should be eliminated and dehumanize, they are selling you propaganda.

#answered #anonymous #rwde #rwby critical #fndm critical #anti rooster teeth #adam taurus #james ironwood #anti crwby

[yourtimeshare]

Exactly how to Find Out If You get approved for Anfi timeshare payment

Anfi timeshare settlement is an additional advantage that some timeshare firms supply their clients who possess timeshares. It is a type of monetary payment for the monetary losses sustained as a result of possessing an anFi timeshare device. For example, if you own a timeshare that was marketed to you for an accumulated rate of $1 million, you would get approved for Anfi timeshare compensation. However, if you just possess your timeshare for a number of months and afterwards choose to offer it for $1 million less than what you paid, you would certainly not get Anfi timeshare payment. In this write-up, we take you via the different sorts of timeshares and clarify how Anfi timeshare compensation jobs. We likewise detail the needs and also conditions that you will require to meet in order to get approved for Anfi timeshare compensation , timeshare cancel services.

How to Find Out If You Get Anfi Timeshare Payment

So as to get Anfi timeshare payment, you will require to offer the complying with information to the timeshare business: - Dates of possession - Total variety of evenings maintained - Complete quantity of expenses - Call as well as attend to of main contact person - Duplicates of contracts, actions as well as other lawful documents - Any other pertinent documents requested by the timeshare company.

Just how to Learn If a Business Is Eligible for Anfi Timeshare Payment

There are many elements that figure out whether or not a business will be eligible for Anfi timeshare payment. You will certainly need to determine if the timeshare is eligible for compensation based upon the following criteria: - The age of the timeshare unit - The problem of the timeshare unit - The quality of the operators - The variety of devices in a facility - The number of proprietors.

Exactly How to Obtain Anfi Timeshare Payment

You can most likely to your neighborhood timeshare business as well as ask to send you papers suggesting that you are eligible for Anfi timeshare compensation. This is not an excellent idea due to the fact that the paperwork can obtain lost in the mail, or you may not know that you get approved for the advantage. You can additionally go to the regional Better Business Bureau as well as see if they can help you. You can also inspect the website of the National Council of Better Organization Bureaus to see if they can help you. You can additionally call the National Council of Better Service Bureaus toll-free helpline at 1-800-827-9674 as well as ask them for assistance.

The Conditions of Anfi Timeshare Compensation

As we stated above, Anfi timeshare settlement is a secondary benefit that some timeshare business supply their customers that own timeshares. It is a type of financial compensation for the financial losses incurred as a result of owning an anFi timeshare unit. As an example, if you possess a timeshare that was marketed to you for an aggregate rate of $1 million, you would certainly qualify for Anfi timeshare compensation However, if you only own your timeshare for a couple of months and after that decide to sell it for $1 million less than what you paid, you would not get approved for Anfi timeshare settlement. In this article, we take you with the different sorts of timeshares and also clarify how Anfi timeshare compensation jobs. We likewise list the demands and problems that you will certainly need to satisfy in order to get Anfi timeshare settlement.

Exactly how to Learn If You receive Anfi timeshare settlement.

So as to get Anfi timeshare compensation, you will certainly need to supply the following info to the timeshare business: - Days of possession - Complete number of nights kept - Overall amount of costs - Call as well as address of primary contact individual - Duplicates of contracts, actions and other lawful paperwork - Any other appropriate paperwork requested by the timeshare company , mis sold timeshare spain.

[zu-is-here]

Thank you for your reply as well 💜

If you'd like, I could keep you updated on how I'm doing. I mean, I'd ask the same, but there are people who always do that (@help-im-a-gay-fish, I'm looking at you with gratitude and warmth; thanks for always checking on Zu, your conversations really mean a lot to me 💗), I don't want to repeat questions. Though I'm thinking about asking you some other things, and sharing news in the meantime. It'd be nice to get to know you better, so it's a win-win. Would that be alright?

As for my Chinese lesson, it went... alright, I guess. Considering I didn't feel well and was a bit out of practise... But it was nice to get back to actual stydying. I love this language so much, but don't speak it good enough to use some social media in Chinese, so when there are no lessons I feel like I'm kind of falling out of it. But now I'm there once again, and it feels really good!

I'm very embarrassed and unsure, but, uh. Would you maybe like to play in Sky together sometime? If not, no problem! Just thought it was worth asking, even if our schedules don't exactly match up (x

I'm so glad I managed to explain everything about the songs! By the way, I just realised there is at least one thing between The Killing Kind and X-tra Dark Cream that is not a spoiler, so I can share it now!

The ghost in me was true but

You've been haunted too just—

Didn't see it all along

Remember this part? Well guess what you have~

Doesn't that sound familiar?

This part of the song is always a moment of reminiscing for Dream and Cross. Back to the days when it all took another turn. When the old dreams were shattered, and the new ones were yet to be made.

...

I'm very random right now, can't even explain my thought process here, but all that reminded me that I have the fourth chapter of A dream that comes crashing down translated and published on fanficus. No updates on ficbook though, recent changes make me too sad, I don't use this one as much anymore. I'll still post things there, but obly in piles, a few chapters and/or oneshots at a time. Don't want to spend there more time than necessary. Oh, on a lighter note, my blog now has navigation in every fic post! I worked on that for a few days, and finished today! Hope the links work for everyone, not just me (x

And last but not least... You have no idea how happy and flattered I am. Making things special is exactly what I want. It's just that I've been standing out for as long as I can remember, and for almost everyone my words barely meant anything and the way I perceive the world is strange (mostly the bad type of strange), and that's part of why I can't hear my own writing, why my words now seem hollow and meaningless to me. At least it doesn't stop me from treasuring people who get what I'm trying to tell, who hear me. To whom I make things seem more special. So reading this part was... wow. It still is. I know you consider my works wonderful, and I know you are always glad to talk to me, but this? For me, it's another level. Спасибо. Я так, так рада... Эти слова и впрямь попали в самую точку и запали в душу, оставив отпечаток. Подобные вещи для меня действительно много значат.

Okay, I turned into an emotional mess, who would have guessed (x I'll just end it here for now.

Waiting patiently for your reply and grateful in advance for listening,

anfie.

That would be amazing!╰(*´︶`*)╯No pressure, of course, just whenever you feel like doing so ♡

And that's good to hear! Chinese sounds so interesting yet really hard...

Oh don't be embarrassed! I'd love to play with you sometime <3 Maybe we'd be able to meet even more friends (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Wait— it does! *0* I did miss the very beginning, "when the old dreams were shattered, and the new ones were yet to be made." ☆

***

Ah I almost forgot about fanficus! It seems like a nice alternative to our good old ficbook ♪ Despite all the updates, it's still very dear to me, though I left it a long time ago. Back to fanficus, I'll be gladly following you there! Is that where your blog with navigation is? (・∀・)

Am I happy to hear this (๑>◡<๑) I know how underestimated many creators may be, with amazing works and, as luck would have it, a small audience, especially writers. Not just details but the whole meaning escape from an unprepared reader's gaze, and it may be each of us, so many talents, unheard, disappear. Но я верю в тебя. Не сворачивай со своего пути! ☆

Take care, and have a good night ♡

UPD:

Really? (ﾟ∀ﾟ) I thought it was more of a stereotype that Asian languages ​​"are the same", though many of them were just isolated from each other, so that's funny indeed x)

Aw got it, thank you! (〃ω〃)

I see (ó3ò) Oh btw, what do you think about Archive of Our Own? *^* I still get lost there in navigation xd but this is definitely the biggest community for writers and readers!

Ah it's okay! My bad, but now I see, that's really easy to use (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

You're doing amazing ♡ Keep up the great work! ☆

#updated #ask #zu is happy #zu art

[fmdtaeyongarchive]

January 1, 2018: Soundcloud user kwonsongs uploaded a new audio: “New Year’s Day (cover)”

date: december 30, 2017

word count: 1,889 without lyrics

summary: really just me making up for never doing the cover festival para on ash combined with your run of the mill “new year, new me” para. it’s not super important character development but i wanted to establish kinda where he is as the year starts and he’s being emo again and this really might make more sense if i posted the other self-para with stuff that happens before this self-para but that would be too logical, right?

notes:  i really wrote a self-para with taylor swift lyrics in it. f/anfi/ction.net is shaking. anyway this takes the place of that one para i wrote in october as my least favorite piece of writing even though it took a month and a half to write. just me.... constantly outdoing myself for the worse.

“Hold on to the memories; they will hold on to you.”

The night is darkest just before the dawn was a cliche Ash had repeated to himself (and had sung to him in slightly different words by Florence + the Machine through his headphones) numerous times in the past few years . He clung to the times it’d been proven right, but he’d seen how once the dawn had passed into the joyful brightness of mid-day, it could only go back downhill from there. He wanted to hope 2018 would be the dawn followed by a long summer day after the darkness of the past two years, but hope was hard to come by these days.

Time to sit down and record covers was rare lately, too. Two had been uploaded in December before his album dropped, but they’d been recorded in the two months before. Usually he’d play keyboard to accompany himself after picking the song and working out the legal licenses, but he just couldn’t do this one without a piano, so he’d gotten special permission to use one of the BC vocal lesson rooms to sit down at a real piano in a room with good acoustics. His hands ghosted over the black and white keys and he smiled to himself at the all too familiar press of his fingers on each one.

This was his home, more so than a music show stage or even a dance practice room. He’d never felt more comfortable than behind a piano. He’d been playing piano for longer than his memory went back. After eighteen years, it was the most natural thing for his body to do, more than breathing itself. There’d been a time he’d thought his destiny laid with the instrument in front of him. Becoming a world famous pianist wasn’t the most practical dream in this day and age, but when he was only a kid, it was what he’d wanted and he’d been too optimistic to doubt himself.

He couldn’t see that little kid in himself anymore.

Ash sat down at the bench and played the song’s first few notes to make sure the instrument was tuned. Recording his covers could often be an emotional ordeal sinc he rarely wasted his time with songs he couldn’t connect to. His soundcoud account was the closest thing to a diary he had other than his own songwriting notebooks. Millions of people could listen to them, but would they ever know who his love songs and songs of heartbreak went out to? Hansol. Daeun. Yoonah. His feelings for all three of them over the past two years had been documented on the public platform, but he’d never even told them they were about them, much like he didn’t tell them about most of the original songs he’d composed with them in mind. Music, whether it be written by others or written by himself, spoke volumes more than plain words ever could. It was more intimate and vulnerable than a simple exchange of words. Something so real was bound to frighten even the bravest of hearts, something Ash had never claimed to have.

Ash’s love of Taylor Swift songs had become so well-known that it was nearly a joke now, but he’d connected with the song he was going to play from the first time he’d heard it. For all of the dramatic and unrealistic notions he had of romance, the simple idea of an enduring love was one that appealed him to most now after so much self-inflicted heartbreak. On a deeper level than romance, he wanted to be a good person to everyone he loved in any sense. Not just his boyfriend, but also his friends and his parents. His nature had long led him to run from conflict, but he never wanted to be the type of person who hurt others because of his selfishness ever again.

It was a vast improbability that his wish would come to fruition. Ash had never wanted to hurt others, but he still did, so why should he think he could change? It was a flaw in the code of his nature that he was still struggling desperately to accept, but he didn’t have to accept it today. He just had to open up for the sake of music.

The song was easy to play, which was a godsend since he still felt weak from the night before. Life went on and this would help him, he hoped. Music was therapy when the universe didn’t allow him time for the real kind. But he could only rely on a substitute for so long before it ruined him.

The expensive audio recording set up had already been arranged, so he let a few moments of silence linger in the air after hitting record before he deftly began the one bar intro.

“There's glitter on the floor after the party. Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby. Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor. You and me from the night before but...”

The words flowed from his diaphragm as naturally as a nursery rhyme. The beginning was easy to get through, a visualization of the words taking over his mind. He hadn’t been to many parties, at least not the kinds of ragers at fraternities people his age were supposed to be going to. He’d been to plenty of stuffy industry events where there was no glitter and no Polaroids, only fake smiles and the bright flash of press cameras. Recently, he’d also been to plenty of clubs, with their strobe lights and deafening bass, but that was a hollow substitute. Parties with real laughter and a large group of close friends genuinely enjoying being in each other’s company were a distant dream to him. If he could stop pushing people away, would that help him live the idealistic image of his early twenties or was that another sacrifice he’d laid at the altar of BC Entertainment almost nine years ago with no hope of ever experiencing?

“Don’t read the last page. But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you’re turning away.”

The song began to hit home much earlier than he would have liked. How tempting it would be to be able to know how everything ended in advance. At the end of his life, would he be happy? Would he finally know what happiness was? Would he grow old with someone who could somehow love him despite his never-ending failures or would he continue to disappoint everyone? Would he still be remembered as nothing more than the list of labels that his scandals had branded him with? Attention-seeker. Womanizer. Playboy. Cradle robber. An embarrassment.

Would he continue to sabotage the relationships that meant the most to him? Would his friends admit they only kept him around because they had pitied him and finally leave him for good?

Would he end up truly as alone as he already felt on his worst nights, an isolated man with nothing to keep him going?

His fingers tensed as he played, but he continued, his eyes falling closed as he bit the inside of his bottom lip to center himself. He couldn’t let his thoughts go there. Not now. He needed to get this cover out.

“I want your midnights, But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day.”

Ash’s New Year’s Eve would be spent on a broadcast, but the idea of a trashed room wasn’t unfamiliar to him. After the adrenaline of brushing lips with someone who tasted as much of wine as he did when the clock hit twelve passed, so came the hangover. Hangovers were a normal side effect of life for Ash by now. During his album promotions, he’d pushed through a pounding head and dry throat to do an early show recording a few times. It wasn’t professional and it wasn’t pleasant, but he was beginning to feel he didn’t owe BC the former and the latter was a feeling too uncommon in his line of work to start with.

“You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi. I can tell that it's going to be a long road. I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe. Or if you strike out and you're crawling home.”

The lyrics hadn’t affected him so much when he was practicing, but now it felt like his chest was shaking from the weight of the words he was singing. Ash wished he wasn’t recording so that he could let himself cry, to obstruct the words before they left his lips, but he’d been crying too much lately that he didn’t know he had it in him anymore.

Being loved had always been Ash’s source of validation. He wasn’t unaware of that fact. He didn’t know where it came from; it wasn’t as if he’d been left wanting for love and affection in his childhood, and yet he so badly needed people to care about him. But when they did, he told himself they’d see the light sooner or later. Every time, he hoped it would happen before he could ruin it like he always did. In the moment he had love, it was nice, but it was a vicious cycle and the true satisfaction that he yearned for it never came.

Naked sincerity rang in his words still. He lived for love when there was so little else to live for, and he sang the verse with every last atom of his being meaning the words he recited, but his mind never let his heart be at peace. He didn’t deserve to sing those words. He’d abandoned so many people at different times, in different ways.

And he’d been abandoned in turn back when his scandal had broken. Friends and acquaintances had stopped contacting him because he was a star plummeting to the ground from a spot in the sky that had been so delicate to begin with. People he’d thought liked him for him revealed they were fair-weather friends only interested in his status as a member of BC’s current hot boy group. That’s all he was to many. All he’d ever be. To the public, status as a living, breathing human was the only thing with which being in Knight hadn’t gifted him. “Three strikes, you’re out turned into “one strike, you’re unforgivable”.

“Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you. Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you. Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you. And I will hold on to you.”

Blocking out everything he was feeling so that he could get through the song wasn’t going to happen. Sometimes Ash felt incomparably numb and sometimes he experienced so many emotions it felt like he’d burst, but those were the only two options lately and he had no control over when each decided to show up. He should be appreciating all of the gifts life had given him—a loving family, friends who cared about him (for now), a healthy body, a job that offered him a salary most twenty-two year olds and most idols alike could only dream of making, but none of that was ever enough for him to feel genuinely happy. He tried, he did, but his mind always dragged him back down and disappointment at his own ungratefulness only made it worse.

“Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere.”

As Ash played the final notes of the song, he thought about how being able to look back on the next year with fondness when he was old and graying was the most he could ever ask for. It would be another year under BC, another year doing music with Knight he rarely enjoyed performing, and another year of being too busy to spend enough time with anyone other than his manager, but if he put it out into the world that he wanted this year to be better (that he wanted himself to get better), there was the slightest chance the stars would hear his cry for help. He’d tried everything else in vain, so what harm was there in letting the exhaustion of trying finally take over him and letting the universe do the trying instead?

#&& when you're screaming but they only hear you whisper | self para #&& kwonsongs | soundcloud #&& bring color to my skies | character development #i had to remake the soundcloud edit because this was supposed to be done by january 1 but nope #imagine the day i get to write ash in a healthy mental state

[canarianlegal]

Canarian Legal Alliance is pleased to share with you  another payout to one of our Swedish clients from ANFI

Canarian Legal Alliance is pleased to share with you  another payout to one of our Swedish clients from ANFI

Canarian Legal Alliance is pleased to share with you  another payout to one of our Swedish clients from ANFI

Our satisfied clients won their case at the Supreme Court where the judges declared their contract null and void, writing their name in the Spanish Legal history.

They have now received over 28,000€ Euros, and are overjoyed that justice has been finally served in their case.

Our…

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[anfie-in-the-box]

X-tra Dark Cream third anniversary

Notes

I never mentioned it, never even payed it any attention, but the universe decided to remind me that one of my beloved works turns three on the twenty third of December. I don't celebrate any holidays at all, but sometimes I like to use them as a deadline that's not really strict and write something for my followers, and this time especially for @orange-dreamzer. Hope you enjoy!

。。。

It's fun to decorate the coffee shop for some local festivities, especially with a good company. There's five of them — Nightmare, Killer, Dream, Cross, and Ccino himself. They work faster together, even with the cats getting in the way and all of Ccino's helpers having no clue where to put what. He ends up directing them more than actually decorating, but he doesn't mind; it's new, but not a bad kind of new. He used to be the one helping… But the past is in the past. He has a family now — something he'd never dreamed of, not since his hopeless, dangerous love for still corrupted Nightmare bloomed. That's also in the past. Ccino's better now. All of them are. 

“Cross, I need you to put these lanterns above the door outside and a few inside as well. Do you mind me using blue magic on you?” Ccino says, getting the lanterns from yet another box. When Cross takes the lanterns and nods in confirmation, Ccino closes his sockets for a second, deeply breathes in and out, and then pulls. It's been a while since he had to use blue magic. Cross’ soul feels weird, part-human and part… something else, something more than soul traits, something that allows Cross to alter reality. Ccino doesn't understand that power, not even grasping the basics, but he thinks that's okay. 

While lifting Cross higher, Ccino calls, “Dream, please place the origami I prepared on the tables. Be careful not to wrinkle them, alright?”

Dream asks anxiously from behind, “Are you sure I should be doing this? I'm not used to handling delicate things…” 

Ccino can't help but soften. The curse has done a lot of harm to both twins, and it's crucial to remember that they don't realise just how loveable and reliable they are. If only they learned to love and trust themselves… But Ccino will support his family all the way. So he smiles, even though Dream can't see it — he can feel it, though, — and says with all the warmth and attentiveness in the world, “I have every confidence in you, Dream. Just try and put a few in their places, and then, if it doesn't work, I'll ask Nightmare. Okay?”

Dream hums an insecure “Okay,” and there's that. Ccino smiles and redirects Cross closer to the middle of the room. 

“There are hooks everywhere,” Cross notices. “Are they for the lanterns?” 

Am I doing this right? He doesn't ask, but Ccino understands nonetheless. He replies, “Well, yes. And for Christmas lights and tinsel, for example. All sorts of decorations.”

“How'd you do all this before?” Nightmare asks curiously. “Without someone to use magic on to put everything on the ceiling? I know you love this place, both Dream and I can feel it. But how?”

“I have a ladder,” Ccino admits. “But it's much easier and safer to use magic now that you're all here. Cats don't get in the way at all. Do they, Cross?” 

“They certainly can try,” Cross laughs. “Your blue magic is so gentle, you know? I was trained to be precise and effective, as a Royal Guard. To feel how different it can be… It's eye-opening.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” Ccino says. Dream adds from behind, “Thank you for your care.”

“Hey! Can someone come see this?” Killer calls suddenly from behind the counter; some time ago, he asked several questions about the festivities and hid with his favourite knife. 

“What have you got?” Nightmare responds, and then Ccino replies at the exact same moment, “A few more lanterns!” They don't apologise for interrupting each other, laughing instead. Barely a few seconds later Ccino hears Nightmare gasp in awe. 

“Didn't you see what I was doing? It's just a look over my shoulder, and you'd see it!”

Yeah, Nightmare and Killer are both behind the counter, but while Nightmare uses his impeccable penmanship to write well wishes on sticky notes and put them on the cups, Killer has promised a surprise.

“Well,” Nightmare replies in a patient tone, “You asked for privacy, so I gave that to you. Besides, I have my own task to do.”

Killer makes a noise in half-embarrassment half-gratitude. “It's ready. Now you can see.” 

Cross calls, “Hey Ccino, all done.” He puts him on the floor instantly, though carefully as usual, and together with Dream they all go to see what Killer has for them. 

It's wooden figures of different animals, so small they'd fit in the palm, yet finely detailed, so beautiful it takes Ccino's breath away. “How long have you been working on these?..” he whispers, afraid to ruin the moment — or the miniature figures. Killer shrugs and waves his hand, “Since you explained to us how this whole festivities thing works.”

Ccino's eye-sockets begin watering. He feels… happy. So very happy, and so very loved. He hugs Killer, murmuring, “Thank you.” 

“I didn't know you could carve,” Nightmare admits.

Petting Ccino's head, Killer explains, “Didn't really come up. It's a hobby for the times my LV acts up. Turned out to be useful now.” 

“I'm so proud and so grateful. This is amazing. You are amazing, Killer!”

“I agree with Ccino. Very clever,” Nightmare adds, just a little bit stiffly, and for once Ccino doesn't hear any guilt in his voice. Only serenity and love.

“So we did it, right?” Dream asks. “How about a small celebration?”

“Excellent suggestion!” Ccino exclaims, reluctantly letting Killer go. “You go sit, I'll handle the rest!” 

。。。

“Tea? Coffee? Or a dance?” Ccino offers half-jokingly. 

“Can I have more than one option?” Killer perks. Ccino nods seriously, “I don't see why not.” His hands tremble slightly, and he feels the heat of extra magic under his cheek bones. What's this impossible skeleton up to this time? 

“Well then, I'd like to order a dance and a cup of my favourite herbal tea right after.”

Oh. Ccino's never danced in his life; maybe as a kid, but he barely remembers his childhood, so there's that. There's also not that much space between tables and chairs. Yet he can't refuse, and takes Killer's hand, lowering another on Killer's shoulder as if they are waltzing. He quickly realises they're doing exactly that, just in one place, not moving around. 

“Shall we also give it a try?” Cross suggests. 

Dream hesitates, “But Nightmare would be left alone…” 

“That's not true,” Nightmare interrupts. “I'm still here with you, all of you, peaceful and content for once.” 

Ccino can't help but agree. And then Cross and Dream join Killer and him, waltzing between a different set of tables. 

Tomorrow's festivities have nothing on this lovely, so very lovely night. 

。。。

Credits

Ccino © black-nyanko

Nightmare and Dream © jokublog

Shattered Dream © galacii-gallery

Cross © jakei95

Killer © rahafwabas

Dark Cream © @zu-is-here

X-tra Dark Cream © me (anfie / anfie-in-the-box)

。。。

Notes

Is this canon in the actual Turns, twists, and paradoxes? Is the curse finally lifted? Is Fluffynightkiller a thing already? So many questions, so little answers!.. I would love to hear your thoughts.

Also, this piece started from Ccino's phrase "Tea? Coffee? Or a dance?" and then grew both backwards and forwards. In Russian it's "Чай? Кофе? Потанцуем?", which my relatives and I use rather often.

#anfie writes #x-tra dark cream #ccino!sans #cross!sans #dream!sans #shattered!dream #passive!nightmare #killer!sans

[anfie-in-the-box]

X-tra Dark Cream & Dark Cream Week

Notes

This time there's only one work I wrote for Dark Cream Week. But what a work that is! (Well, if I haven't messed it up like I think I did.) Be warned that it contains heavy spoilers for Turns, twists, and paradoxes!

Or does it? Only time will tell!

。。。

Eclipse

Dream doesn’t get enough sleep. These days he actually needs it to function properly, so weak he has become, as if withering away. As if dying. So far from the guardian he'd used to be, yet less naive, more experienced. Was his suffering worth it? Dream doesn’t know the answer. What he does know is that he also needs to eat, keenly aware of how brittle his bones have become underneath the liquid negativity that ruins him just as much as both negativity and positivity around. He's endlessly balancing on the thin line in between, that fleeting moment when love turns into grief, trust into betrayal, hope into despair. Then and only then his pain fades, though does not disappear completely, and there's no getting used to it. 

Dream's drowsing when his chest starts hurting so suddenly and so unnaturally he screams, the sound echoing through the Anti-Void, his sight blurry. Dream screams and screams, too afraid to check the only thing that could be wrong with him. It hurts so much, but he can't do it alone, can't make himself see his sentence. He sits up, pulls his legs to his chest, and waits for Cross to return with food that now might go to waste. 

Dream's not sure how long it takes Cross to get back. Dream doesn’t even see or hear him coming, consumed by piercing pain in his chest and overwhelming terror; not trembling, not moving, not crying. Not screaming anymore, either. He just doesn't want to die, he wants the pain to stop, but doesn't know how to express it. Do his pleas even matter? They never did. 

Cross must recognise something is wrong immediately, and when he gently touches Dream's shoulder, Dream finally manages to snap out of it. “I was waiting for you,” Dream whispers, his voice hoarse after who knows how much time of screaming. “I wanted to be with you when I…” 

Cross’ distress flares, and he asks, urgently, “What happened?” 

Dream whispers even quieter, “I think the curse has taken all of my soul. It hurts so much.” Cross looks taken aback, his worry turning into fear. The emotions soothe the pain a little, and Dream sighs and resolves to continue, “I just want you here. So you could call our family. So you all could be there when I…”

“Don't!” Cross shouts, obviously louder than intended, and his voice echoes through the Anti-Void. He keeps on in a more steady tone, “Let's see your soul first, okay? We've done it so many times already. Let it be just a normal check-up.”

“Okay,” Dream whispers. Cross’ determination has always made him stronger in a way no amount of positivity ever could. They're so lucky to have each other. 

Dream summons his soul, gasping and shutting his socket from pain and fear of the unknown. He doesn't want to die, and seeing his whole soul corrupted feels like it would solidify his death sentence. He's not ready. He wants a happy ending for Cross and Nightmare, Killer and Ccino. And there'd be no happiness for his beloved family if he died. He doesn't want to leave them. It hurts so much to think about, the same way his chest hurts from corruption. 

Dream finally opens his good socket. 

It's the most peculiar, the most mesmerising sight he's ever seen.

His soul is indeed fully black, seemingly rotten to the core. But despite the corruption, there is a gentle, warm golden light around the black apple, the same way it always used to be, only a little brighter because of the contrast of the glow and the apple itself. 

“What?..” Dream mouths without a sound, too afraid to make it worse. “It's like an eclipse,” Cross murmurs, awe and fear mixed in his voice. Then he adds, “We definitely need Nightmare.” 

“We need Nightmare,” Dream repeats, only registering his brother's name and a specific sound of a portal opening. He lets Cross help him stand up and lead him through the portal, his soul disappearing into his ribcage because he loses any semblance of control. 

Dream manages to focus on the world around him only when the door slams loudly, someone — his big brother, it's his big brother's voice, changed so much yet familiar, comforting, — Nightmare hurries to him, asking Cross, “What is it? Why are you two in different kinds of pain?” 

Oh. Dream has forgotten about the pain in his chest as soon as he saw Cross coming back to him. It hurts still, but now that there's hope… 

Cross suggests they sit in the living room, and so they do, Cross gently helping Dream onto his favourite armchair. Then, he asks Dream to show his soul once again. The pain lessens somewhat. 

It's less of a shock for the second time, but just as mesmerising. Cross was right when he said it looked like an eclipse. Dream's soul used to shine like a sun, then it got cursed and slowly glowed more and more faintly, but now that it has gotten fully corrupted (at least from the outside), it still glows. Can it be that there's still a part of the apple that was able to fight off the curse, to stay as pure as it used to be?.. 

The twins were never supposed to have souls anyway. Who knows how they work. Who knows if Dream has a chance.

“That's why you two are hurting so much,” Nightmare speaks quietly, barely a whisper. “That's why you're so afraid. Oh Dream…” 

“I don't want to die,” Dream replies. 

“I don't want to lose you,” Nightmare says. 

“We don't want to lose you,” Cross adds.

“But the glow!” Dream exclaims in a sudden burst of energy. “It's like an eclipse! It means we still have time, right? It's not forever, right?..” 

Nightmare looks him in the socket and sighs, “I don't know. No eclipse is eternal, that is true. But how this one will end, I do not know. I only know you are our sunshine, and we won't let go that easily. We'll find a way.”

Dream nods slowly. “Can I… Can I sleep here for a bit? It hurts less when I'm with you, I think.” He asks hesitantly. Nightmare and Cross both take his hands and lead him to Nightmare's bedroom.

“I'll continue researching the nature of souls, and Cross will be with you. When Killer comes back, I will send him to find the Underhelpers. They'd never give a proper answer, but a hint might be just enough. And we already know that who seeks will always find. You will be saved, little brother.”

Dream falls asleep, and when he wakes up, everything will change once again. 

After all, the eclipses are not forever. 

。。。

Credits

Undertale © Toby Fox

Dreamtale © jokublog

Cross © xtaleunderverse

Shattered © galacii-gallery

Dark Cream and Dark Cream Week © zu-is-here

X-tra Dark Cream © me (anfie / anfie-in-the-box)

。。。

Notes

I'm very tired, and a little anxious to post this. So just... Thanks for reading, and take care 🌻

#anfie writes #x-tra dark cream #dark cream week #dream!sans #shattered!dream #cross!sans #nightmare!sans #passive!nightmare #utmv

[anfie-in-the-box]

Turns, twists, and paradoxes

Navigation

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Notes

I honestly don't know how it happened. I was just writing for a while and then it's just finished??? What's even going on?.. But whatever, please enjoy!

Also, please be careful, there's some self-deprecation here because Nightmare. Yeah.

。。。

Chapter 3

Nightmare lets Killer eat in peace, fleeing back to his room the moment he announces the need to go to the castle. It's such a risk — he just knows there'll be an ambush. The main gang left him easily, no strings attached, no words needed, but the others… Some will riot. Make him pay for how he's used them. And he'd deserve it — but he can't die, not when his brother needs him so. 

So, yes, he's stalling. Nightmare admits it. 

But Killer eats quickly — eager for a mission? Maybe, but maybe not. Nightmare doesn't even understand why Killer stays, what made him choose Nightmare instead of freedom. It'd have been different if Killer hadn't known what to do with this freedom; but he has Colour, who'd readily, happily help. And yet… 

There's a knock on the door. It's tempting to answer "Who's there?", let himself get distracted, fool around while he can; only Dream needs his big brother now more than ever, and Nightmare can't let him down. Can't let him die under the curse he somehow survived. 

He opens the door. Killer stands there, a playful smile on his face, his broken soul a target once again. Nightmare feels him bottling up his feelings, making the guardian of negativity stronger. 

"I'm ready to go, boss," Killer says, waiting for orders. 

Why? 

Once again, Nightmare doesn't ask. He thinks he couldn't bear the answer. 

"Let's go, then. Open a portal near the castle, not inside." It's honestly a miracle Nightmare's voice doesn't tremble. He's used to pretending, that's what he's done to survive under the corruption's influence for centuries, but now it's suddenly hard. Now he doesn't have an excuse to be something he isn't. Now he's by himself.

Killer tears space and time with his knife, giving way like a loyal servant he is. 

But why? 

Why? 

Why?..

Nightmare doesn't ask. He steps through the portal. Several sources of hostile negativity hit him — he was right. Someone is waiting for him. There'll be a fight. And he's weakened still. Would Killer be enough to protect them both and win? 

"We're not alone," Nightmare warns him while he closes the portal. The negativity swirls around them, feeding Nightmare's soul. The castle is dark and menacing, and so very familiar. 

Killer smiles savagely, "Let them come. I'll play, and I'll win." 

Nightmare would like to have his confidence. The servants of his corrupted self are dangerous, and most have nothing to lose. Now that he can't protect himself, now that his crown has fallen with his curse… 

They proceed quietly, cautiously. It's eerily silent, not a whistle of wind, not an echo of voice. Everything's dead, or seems to be; Nightmare knows better. It's not the realm of the dead, where Reaper would rule; it's the graveyard of hopes and dreams and all good and light, where Nightmare used to thrive with his gang of desperate rejects. Cross is not the only one to find a second chance and betray him, but there are few happy endings for those who end up by Nightmare's side.

They are ambushed in the main hall, predictably. Killer pushes Nightmare aside, yells to him not to get cornered, and rushes to fight. Nightmare watches raptly, ready to run, although he's not sure where to. Enemies could be anywhere. 

But suddenly, Killer's not alone in his struggle against a crowd. With disbelief, Nightmare recognises Murder and Horror, who join the battle without a word, the same as they left him when the curse had fallen. It gets easier then — what Error used to call the Murder Time Trio is used to fighting together, smooth and clean team work. Horror chops heads with his axe without a sign of mercy — Nightmare still remembers how he refused to harm monsters and only dealt with humans at first, but then Nightmare made him hate monsters who, unlike his dearest brother, have enough food and magic in their worlds. Yet he still only uses magic on humans; his bones are more physical than others', so they deal less damage to those who don't have actual flesh. Murder fires blasters and summons sharpest bones, turning to dust several enemies at a time. He never uses weapons beside his own magic and especially hates knives — and Killer, who uses those. Nightmare knows all about his former subordinates, their fighting styles and their insecurities the same. He's hurt them so much, and here they are, saving him. 

It ends. 

Enemies flee. Those who stay alive, that is. That's not many. 

Just like that. 

Nightmare can't get his eyes off of them, mesmerised. They're so good. 

"Killer," Murder says, not unkindly. 

"Murder," Killer returns with the same neutral tone. Those two were never friendly, not with their backstories, not with their attitudes. Not with the way Nightmare fueled their animosity. It pours right into his soul, making him stronger. 

"Nightmare," Horror notices, and then everyone stares at the one who used to be their king. 

"Are you okay, boss?" Killer asks, taking a step closer. Nightmare nods, and then, without a pause, bows. 

"Horror. Murder. Thank you for your help. You didn't have to." 

Why did they stay? Did they also hope that Nightmare would return? 

Murder huffs, shaking off the dust, and Horror responds with his deep, guttural voice, "We really didn't." 

Nightmare can't help asking, "Why are you here?" 

This time, Murder answers, "There's nowhere else for us to go." Horror nods, "It's not home, but it's somewhere to be." Murder adds, "Horror visits his brother as usual, but that's it." 

And isn't that right? They have nothing but this miserable place. Nightmare made sure of it. 

The thought makes him ache. They didn't deserve this hell. Nobody deserves something like that. Not even Nightmare himself. 

"Why did you help, then?" somehow, Nightmare finds it in himself to continue. 

He's still bowing deeply. 

"Because it's something, and you were the one who gave it to us," Horror answers easily. His single blood-red eye-light shines in the dim light of the hall. 

Nightmare chokes on words, helpless against such brutal honesty. Is it really that easy? Might that be why Killer stayed, as well? He doesn't know. 

He isn't ready to know. 

He doesn't want them here, as grateful as he is for their help. Killer wouldn't have done it alone. There were too many of them, waiting for their revenge. 

"Why don't you both go to Farmtale?" Nightmare asks, weakly. It's cruel to himself to continue, but it's cruel to them to let it end here, and Nightmare knows what he'd choose. He doesn't deserve mercy. "I know Horror befriended their Sans. Anything's better than here." 

"Not anything," Murder grumbles, crossing his hands on his chest. He must mean his AU, Nightmare thinks. Long gone, a courtesy of Error, but never forgotten. 

"It's an idea though," Horror admits. "I'll ask." 

Please do, Nightmare thinks, desperately. I want this wrecked place empty and forgotten. 

"Why'd you still call him boss?" Murder asks Killer, and Nightmare really tries not to squirm. It's a question he'd also like to know the answer to, so he listens attentively. 

"Because boss is boss," Killer shrugs. "What's so difficult about that?" 

Murder huffs again, turns around and disappears without a word. Horror smiles uncomfortably widely and teleports, too. Nightmare blinks at the empty space they leave behind. 

"Let's just go to the library," he sighs heavily. "I don't sense any more hostility in the entire AU, so that must be it." 

They go.

Nightmare knows his library quite well, but even he can't contain centuries of knowledge in his head. So he searches, ordering Killer to stand guard, just in case. There aren't many books on Multiverse even in his vast collection, so it must be quick. He feels he won't be able to find anything here, but maybe, just maybe… merely a hint, it's all he needs… 

Nightmare won't admit he doesn't know what he's doing. He has to know; he can't let his brother down once again. He already left him for centuries and almost killed him countless times. Enough betrayal. He'll do anything to redeem himself, even if he doesn't know how to be anything but evil — he was just a kid when corruption took over, after all. But he'll try. For his brother. 

There are even less books on Multiverse than Nightmare expected, some of them more like diaries by outcodes he either killed or turned to his side. But it's exactly what he wanted — perhaps there is an outcode who can help, who knows more. 

While skimming through the books, Nightmare lets himself relax a little — his broken body aches less here, where negativity's so thick the air is dark and heavy. It brings relief, though undeserved, but he really needs it to focus. 

It feels like an eternity passed when he finally finds something. In hindsight, it's rather obvious — only he doesn't know how to get there. 

Or perhaps he does. 

"Killer!" 

He teleports by Nightmare's left side so he sees him approach. 

"Did you find something, boss?" he asks, curiously. 

"I think I did," Nightmare responds, gently caressing the page he stopped on. Killer seems to stare right at his fingers, although without eye-lights there's no proof, it's merely a feeling. It does something strange to Nightmare's soul, Killer's attention.

"So what's the plan?" Killer sounds eager, tossing his knife from one hand to another.

Nightmare sighs, "We need Error. He's the only one I know who knows where to find the people we need." 

Killer stops tossing his knife. "Do we still have any of his strings left? I don't know how to find him otherwise." 

"Me neither," Nightmare admits. "And no, I don't think I have. They were hidden in the goop, but now…" 

"Does Dream have them, then?" 

"I don't know. We can't wait until the meeting anyway, I want answers before that." 

"Would he even help us?" Killer says aloud exactly what Nightmare fears. He shuts the book and goes to put everything he took back in its place, just to delay the moment he has to answer. Only suffocating negativity of this world helps him keep breathing. 

"I don't know," he finally admits. "But between you and me, I'm sure we can think of something. Error can be… unreasonable, but I'll find a way." 

"We will," Killer corrects. "You're not alone, boss." 

It's sickening how warm Nightmare feels all over. He doesn't deserve such loyalty. 

But he has to move forward. 

"Let me focus. I'll find the source of negativity in the Anti-Void, and if we're lucky, it will be Error." 

Killer nods and turns to stand guard once again. 

Why does he do it? 

Nightmare can't make himself ask, as painful as it is not to know. He closes his left eye — his right doesn't work, it doesn't see and it doesn't close, forever wide open, — and enters the meditative state. It's easier than he expected, to be completely honest. There are so many thoughts buzzing in his head, yet they all disappear in a moment when he concentrates. 

At first he only feels this world. There are several souls here, wallowing in negativity, not Horror and Murder alone. They're just not hostile, but they stay. Maybe Nightmare should try to talk to them, send them away — he really, truly wants this place empty and forgotten. Maybe later, when he's not as vulnerable. He'll need to come back here for his books, after all.

Then, he feels surrounding AUs, and then — just because he's in a place with highest level of negativity, he's not as strong without the corruption — he feels the Multiverse as a whole. It's suddenly overwhelming, although it shouldn't be surprising — he's gotten weaker indeed. Nightmare's knees would buckle and give if he weren't sitting. And then, finally, with significant effort, he feels the Anti-Void, certainly not the whole thing but some parts. That's enough. It has to be.

It's hard to pinpoint particular sources of negativity, but Nightmare knows Error and doesn't really know other residents of the Anti-Void, so it's comparatively easy to find exactly what he looks for. Error's always dissatisfied with something, even watching Undernovela and eating his favourite chocolate, surrounded by his precious dolls, or destroying yet another AU. The Multiverse won't cease existing no matter how hard Error tries, and it leaves him mad — in both senses of the word, angry and crazy. Nightmare knows Error, although he's not a normal subordinate, more like an ally with conflicting interests — he wants AUs gone while Nightmare wants them suffering but alive. There's no emotions in the dead. That's Reaper's territory. 

So Nightmare finds Error and, hesitantly, opens a portal. Anti-Void is fickle, unstable, they might as well end up in a completely different part than where Error is. Only errors and other residents of the Anti-Void can navigate it well. 

This time, Killer steps through first, ready to protect. Nightmare follows. 

The portal closes, leaving them with endless, maddening whiteness.

They need to find Error quickly. It'll take time to negotiate, and Anti-Void is never patient with its visitors. 

Killer turns around, grinning at Nightmare, then readies his knife and moves forward. Nightmare goes right after his… whatever Killer is now. 

He'll deal with that later. 

For now, he trusts Killer watch their surroundings and tilts his head back to see if there are any blue strings in the "ceiling".

He thinks he sees something. They go faster.

。。。

Credits

Undertale © Toby Fox

Dreamtale © jokublog

Killer!Sans © rahafwabas

Murder!Sans © ask-dusttale

Horror!Sans © horrortalecomic

Dark Cream © zu-is-here

X-tra Dark Cream © me (anfie / anfie-in-the-box)

Read it on ao3

Read Russian version on ficbook or fanficus

。。。

Notes

I don't know how I feel about the fight scene. I kind of skipped it because I've never written any (and because Nightmare doesn't participate in the fight), but is it okay? Feel free to tell me your thoughts on that and everything else, anything at all!

Hope you enjoyed, and take care 🌻

。。。

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#anfie writes #x-tra dark cream fic #pre-killermare #passive!nightmare #nightmare!sans #killer!sans #murder!sans #horror!sans #undertale #utmv

[anfie-in-the-box]

Rest for both wicked and weary

Notes

The eleventh of October is my birthday, but no congratulations needed — I only celebrate by gifting things to other people. Please have this piece dedicated to @dragon-tamer-1, who I value endlessly. The prompt was Error and Dream relaxing peacefully; I'm not sure if it's particularly fluffy, there's definitely some angst here, but even more Hurt/Comfort.

。。。

Dream prepares for his visit to the Anti-Void painstakingly. He wears clothes of soft gray shades, only leaving the tiara and the cape untouched, so it doesn't bother Error's weak eyesight yet has enough colour to attract his attention. Then Dream gets a cane — in the Anti-Void, vast and ever-changing, you don't believe your eyes; you stay vigilant and keep your step light, weightless almost. Luckily, Dream isn't a normal skeleton, he just has a body of one; and even that can be corrected with the right training. Or just experience, he supposes; oh, how he used to shamble around, making Error laugh, before he realised he could use a cane. Like a blind being, only he is indeed blind in the Anti-Void, like all not-errors are. He's a stranger there, and since he can't become an error, an unwelcome one.

Dream sighs, putting on thin gloves, just in case. He's ready now. 

It takes time to focus properly — the Anti-Void is utterly chaotic, constantly rebuilding itself, and full of creatures beyond comprehension. Some of them are capable of feeling, some aren't, some feel but so differently Dream is left confused — he's too used to his empathic abilities. 

But eventually, finally, he finds the right being. So he teleports. 

Error instantly spots him, even though Dream appears behind him. He might be half-blind with that poor eyesight of his, but his intuition is impeccable — at least when it comes to beings with souls, which Dream is. 

"I was waiting for so long," Error complains, irritated. "How many tries did it take to find me?" 

"Just one," Dream smiles widely. "It took more time, but I managed to find you in one try." He knows he sounds very proud of himself, but that's okay. With Error, he's allowed to feel and think unapologetically. Error, though he demands attention, lets Dream go just as easily. And besides, they teach each other many things — Error knows how to be selfish very well indeed and learns from Dream how to be more empathetic and considerate.

They work together quite nicely.

Lost in his pride, Dream forgets to use the cane and immediately trips and falls — not right on his face though — there are blue strings keeping him airborne. He giggles awkwardly and says, "Thanks." 

"Yeah, yeah, tell me how great I am." Error doesn't turn around but Dream knows he grins. He can't help smiling in return. 

"You can put me down now, you know," Dream half-suggests, half-asks while wiggling slightly to try and untangle himself without Error's help. Tough luck. 

"As if you could escape on your own!" Error gloats. "I hold the entire universes, a small guardian like you doesn't stand a chance!" 

"Yet Ink manages," Dream disagrees carefully. 

"That cheater doesn't have a soul. You do." 

Now that's something Dream hasn't pondered over. Not right now either — as soon as Error sets him free, he scurries to his blue bean bag chair — this time using the cane, of course, — and sits down — lies down almost. It's warm and soft. Cozy. So big it's more of a bed than a chair; which might as well be true, there's nothing else here resembling a bed, and Dream knows for sure Error loves sleeping.

"Where did you even get your bean bag from?" Dream asks, ready to hear it's stolen like chocolate from Underfell and the lives of innocents from any other AU. 

Error doesn't reply instantly. Dream even considers standing up and looking Error in the sockets to see what's wrong, but then he finally says, "I actually don't remember. Like it's always been there, maybe even before me."

Who knows, it might be true. The Anti-Void contains and loses all sorts of creatures, after all. 

Error sounds distressed like he always is when his memory acts up, so Dream hurries to roll closer and asks, "A pinkie?" 

"A hand," Error replies, every sound of a single word glitching. 

Dream gives him a bare hand — he still hasn't found gloves tender enough to pacify Error's glitching fits. For some reason it's easier for him to touch Dream's bones than any fabric they'd tried. 

Perhaps it's time to ask if Error has any idea why. When he gets better, of course. Hopefully it doesn't last long.

Dream squeezes Error's hand and gets a squeeze in return. At least he's conscious and not rebooting…

"You feel… different. There's more, er, something other than magic in you. Magic in skeleton-monsters or even monsters in general is more solid than whatever you're made of. Not even ghosts are anything like you." Error explains. 

"Positivity," Dream clarifies. "I'm made of positity. Not entirely, my bones are just that — magical bones; but even those are covered with positive energy. And my eye-lights, my insides, my attacks are all pure positivity." 

"Well, that explains it," Error shrugs. "You're basically so much of a sunshine it overwhelms my phobia and cancels it. As much as it can be canceled, I suppose." 

"Does it really help though? My presence, my… touch?" Dream pauses before the last word, feeling all warm yet uncertain. 

He knows it does. And knows Error knows he knows. But hearing the answer and believing it are two different states of mind. Dream's yet to reach the second one. 

And so Error answers absolutely honestly, "It does."

The two of them then sit together, still holding hands, resting in peace and quiet.

Later Error might or might not steal a book or a few and make Dream read to him, and Dream will read, silently reminiscing about the days of old, when his brother was alive but not happy, not since the villagers came to be. He loved the books though, and loved reading them to Dream, though the little guardian of positivity was beside the Tree less and less, helping the villagers where he could, and then where he couldn't but still did, because people demanded. The memories are bittersweet, and even later Dream will share a few with Error, and Error will listen attentively, and then share his own foggy memories of the past, full of inconsistent and even missing bits.

"A hug and a trip to that version of Outertale I found?" Error asks suddenly. 

"Sounds like a plan," Dream beams. Error rarely requests hugs but that just makes them even more precious to the guardian of positivity. 

So they stand up — Error effortlessly, Dream's with a bit more difficulty, he's not exactly used to furniture like Error's bean bag, — and embrace. 

"Is the texture of my clothes still good?" Dream asks when they let go of each other. 

Error nods, grinning, "Perfect, as I deserve."

"Glad to hear that. Outertale?" 

"Yeah. It's unlike most of the AUs where some people manage to evacuate. True genocide, nobody left. You won't feel a thing, not a single grieving or furious soul," Error looks at Dream with pride. 

"That's… really smart, actually." Dream says thoughtfully. "Nothing to make me stronger, but also nothing to make me weaker or attract Corrupted." 

"Of course it's smart. It was my idea after all." Error boasts and opens a portal. "You first." 

Dream smiles at him and makes his first step into outer space. He's not afraid; he won't be alone in its solitude. 

。。。

Notes

Lots and lots of headcanons here!

Anti-Void being full of non-existent things, Dream's true nature peaking through his skeleton form... It was really nice to finally share those.

Also very proud of the title choice here. It came to me naturally. I instantly knew — that's it. As perfect as anything in this world can be.

#anfie writes #anfie writes one-shots #dream!sans #error!sans #romance or friendship? I'd say something in-between #utmv

[anfie-in-the-box]

Brush Everything Away (At Last I Am Here For You)

Navigation

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Notes

Welcome to my newest work! This one's finally not about Dreamtale but about Ink and Broomie!Papyrus. For inspiration thanks to @zu-is-here and her community!

Enjoy!

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Chapter 1

He does not have a name. None of them do. They probably wouldn't even know about that if not for the ever-present feeling of emptiness clutching their souls, minds, and bodies. Their world lacks a lot, so much they can't even comprehend. Details are of no importance though. The emptiness is always there, outside and inside, sharp and painful. They rarely talk about it — all's clear as it is. 

"Brother?" What an utterly meaningless word. The two skeletons, the tall and the short, know for sure that's how they're supposed to call each other, but have zero idea what it means. They only try to stay together, since there must be a special connection between them if they have a special word. Right? 

There's no one to answer. Nobody will hear, no matter how much you call. 

Nobody will come. 

"Something happened?" 

The tall skeleton grudgingly opens his sockets. His brother stands a few steps away, looking at him curiously: all of them barely ever sleep, and the taller sleeps the least. It feels like, while sleeping, he loses the last fractions of his own existence, stops to be — even in this devective way he's being. 

"Nothing. You just asked not to let you sleep, remember?" 

He remembers. It's just… who knows what'll happen in the next moment. Change is a rare thing in their world, but they're even more rarely a good thing. 

All of them have quickly learned two feelings — boredom and fear. 

Their world is full of things barely half-way done, almost empty places and ideas never realised — words they know how to write and say but lack meaning. There are times when the hidden connections appear — that's how the monsters found out about their souls — or disappear without a trace. 

They're all hopeless. The monsters know very little about their own kind, although something tells them hopes and dreams mean a lot. Like magic that their bodies are made of. But what's a "dream"? They don't know if they have that. Perhaps they do, unconsciously? 

Various things happen in this strange world. Is it the way it's supposed to be? 

The tall skeleton nods and gratefully looks his brother in the sockets. His brother gives him an understanding smile. 

The taller skeleton's voice is too loud for this quiet, empty place. He prefers to stay silent. His brother, like many others, doesn't insist. 

After all, what'd stay of them if they stopped accepting each other the way they are? There's a lot they lack as it is. They can't just lose each other, too. 

His brother gazes at him in farewell, always caring and a bit worried, then takes a few steps and disappears. He always does that, though he doesn't know why or how. No one else can do this, so the tall skeleton thinks, Brother's special. 

All of them are special in their own ways. 

Unless they value their differences and similarities, what'll become of them? 

That's a regular train of thought for him. They're all permanently in an existential crisis, they feel incomplete somehow, abandoned.

No answer. 

Nobody'll come. 

Frowns. This thought's already been there, the train's caught its own tail and begun eating itself. 

What a peculiar image indeed. He's never shared it with anyone, not for an opinion and not to feel lighter. Maybe someday later. 

He stands up easily, taking in the familiar scenery — waterfalls that lead to nowhere, cattail, stones shining on the distant ceiling, wooden bridges, and finally, endless fiery-red echo flowers, repeating what's been whispered and more, something unfamiliar and incomprehensible. 

The moment he stands up properly to continue his walk, though, the caves where they live start shaking under an invisible force no one's ever experienced. Through the sounds of the water falling into nowhere and shuffling of cattail, there's a distant half-mad laughing. Then, there are screams. What's happening? 

For the first time in forever, there's this oh so new, oh so unnatural thought, What's happening? Because in this world, there's nothing to happen, not anything this massive. 

His feet bring him to the horrible sounds all by themselves, his mind screaming to run away. He's never known it, but now he does. That's what danger means. 

The place where he lives with his brother is destroyed, and it's so easy to find the source — the blue strings of a skeleton he's never seen before and doesn't particularly see even now — there's a word "error" covering him. The buildings are ruined and the monsters are either dead or captured by the same blue strings. Then, there's another unfamiliar figure, fighting the first one. 

He stops, panic rising in his whole body. Too much change! Too much colour! Too much noise! Too much! All of this! Please end it! 

He falls on the snow, and that's when the two break apart — the tall skeleton notices the lack of noise but not the two strangers. He still looks up through his panic. 

The second — his eye-lights change form and colour or is the tall skeleton hallucinating?.. — reaches him at the same time the first one's strings do. 

Then, there nothing but darkness. 

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Credits

Undertale © Toby Fox

Error!Sans © loverofpiggies

Ink!Sans © comyet

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Notes

It begins! How do you feel so far? I'm a bit unsure about the description of an unfinished AU. It's more thought-out than ____TALE, but still abandoned. I like to think that would be an interesting dynamic, but would it really? Look forward to your thoughts!

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Navigation

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#anfie writes #broomie's tale #error!sans #ink!sans #broomie!papyrus #not yet but the tag's still there because i feel like it #apparently I have no self-control because I can't even wait for tomorrow to post this #sue me! I'm excited!

[anfie-in-the-box]

X-tra Dark Cream & Dark Cream Week

Notes

It's Dark Cream Week! Very inspiring prompts this time, so expect a lot of different things from me! No real spoilers in this one, but feel free to skip it (as well as all the others) if you want to read Turns, twists, and paradoxes chronologically.

You can find the main story here or via tag #x-tra dark cream fic! Thank you!

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Egoism

Dream sobs in Cross' arms; it feels like he's broken beyond repair, just like his world is. "I hate it," he whispers, hoarsely. "I hate it so much. I don't want to hurt anybody. I don't want to hurt you. But all I can do is cause harm. Even before, but especially now. And I hate it! I didn't even know I was capable of hating anything, I didn't think I could. It's against everything I used to believe in, against everything I used to be. What do I do, Cross? How can I live with myself like this?"

Cross pulls him closer, to the point of Dream's ribs hurting a bit. He welcomes this pain, as slight as it is; it means he is not heartless yet, not dead to the curse corrupting his soul. Dream hugs tighter in return, holding on to Cross like a lifeline.

"I know," his guard and his love murmurs softly. "I know it's hard for you. You're genuinely good; you heal, not hurt. And if you ever hurt, you make amends. But we have to. Your brother said we have to. As long as you're the one in control, we have a chance. Please, stay with me. With us. I know the price is too high, I know you hate every second of it. But we need you. I need you. If we lose… You know it's worth it. I know you know."

"I get it. I do. But it's terrible, the things we have to do. I was supposed to protect, not harm!" Dream wails, desperately, his soul clenching in his chest.

"So was your brother," Dream flinches at the reminder of what's become of Nightmare, what the curse made him do, and how helpless and lost he feels now that he's free. Cross continues, "You're both protectors. Guardians. It's not your fault, whatever the curse makes you do. It's not his, either."

"Nightmare was just a kid," Dream whispers. Cross nods decisively. But Dream keeps talking, barely audibly, "He was hurting so much, and I couldn't help."

"You were a kid, too," Cross reminds him. "It's not your fault you both were used like that. You didn't know."

At a loss for words, Dream nods. He's not sure how much he believes it, but at least he hears Cross loud and clear. It's a step.

"You need to survive," Cross whispers gently. "You need to stay in control. If wrecking worlds is what it takes, I'm ready to do it."

There's a warm feeling in Dream's heavy chest now. It blooms like a flower, explodes like a firework. He's so lucky to be loved.

"Yeah," he agrees. He knows Cross would do anything for him. But… "But I'm not."

"I know. I'm sorry. Is it bad to say I hope you'll get used to it?" Dream shudders in Cross' arms, and he soothingly rubs his spine through the clothes and goop. "I suppose it is. But… I really do. I get that thousands of lives for just one is not fair, but the world was never fair to you either, you know?" he hums thoughtfully. "And besides, you're special. The Multiverse needs you. You and your brother. And, well, I need you. I can't lose you too."

Dream sighs, feeling underneath the weight of the world. His heart's always been too big. He feels like he dies a little with every shattered hope and dream; and maybe he does — the old Dream's barely there anymore. He can't afford to be the old Dream, but he doesn't know how to make himself something new. He doesn't understand cruelty and violence, but that's what he needs now. Cross does most of the work, but it makes it even harder, in a way. Cross has been a soldier and a murderer way before he joined Dream, but it doesn't mean he has to keep doing this. Yet he does, for Dream.

It hurts so much. His beloved Cross fighting his battles for him, yet another world drowning in misery, all of it. Dream hates it. He hates it so very much. But every time something in him breaks, he feels stronger, and it kills him to be better and worse at the same time. It kills him. The kind, supportive, understanding, simply good Dream he can't be anymore. He doesn't want to be anything else, but he has to. For Cross. For Nightmare. For himself.

"I feel so selfish," Dream confesses, quietly.

"It's okay to be selfish, though," Cross responds, caressing Dream's spine. "Since forever, you lived for others. It's about time you learn how to live for yourself."

"But it's more than living for oneself, isn't it? I ruin others' lives."

"To survive! You don't have a choice. There is no good option, only bad ones. It's okay to choose the lesser evil. It doesn't make you evil."

"Our victims would disagree," Dream chuckles wetly. "I would disagree, to be honest."

Cross quiets for a while. Then, he asks, "Do you think your brother is evil?"

"What?! Of course not! It wasn't even him half the time!"

"But he ended and ruined so many lives. He made his own people miserable. He used and hurt and twisted everything within his reach, which was vast. He wanted to kill you." As Cross keeps on pressing, Dream feels somewhat lighter, finally admitting his beloved is right. It doesn't make it better, it doesn't solve the problem, but he's not alone. He has Cross and Nightmare, and even Killer and Ccino. Together, they'll find a way to break the curse. Sooner or later, one way or another.

And for now, egoism doesn't sound too bad. Maybe the first step to becoming the new Dream is being selfish.

Dream doesn’t quite stop crying, but he feels better. It doesn't seem like the world is ending anymore. The weight of it still presses on Dream's shoulders, but it feels almost bearable, with Cross here to catch him if he ever falls. Dream will not crash, will not shatter. He's not beyond repair, and he's not alone.

They sit, and Cross offers Dream a piece of chocolate. Dream accepts the sweet little thing, smiling through the tears. It's not that he needs to eat, but Cross loves chocolate so it makes Dream feel closer to him. It's… It feels safe and calming, eating Cross' favourite treat.

They hug once more, although they're not clinging to each other like before. It's not desperate anymore.

They're okay. It will get better. Dream will learn to accept and love and live with his new self, whatever he will be. And Cross will be there every step of the way. Nightmare, too.

Dream hates it all with his whole being but he can do it. Despite everything, he'll pull through. He can't stay true to himself, but everything changes, and he'll change as well. It's only natural.

But he's not evil. He won't ever be. Egoism is not evil. What is evil is the curse, and they will deal with it.

There's still light in the darkness. There always is.

"Thank you," Dream whispers, "for being there for me. I love you."

Cross smiles widely, like he can't help himself, and hugs Dream just a little bit tighter. It's nice, the pressure and the warmth of him.

So very nice.

Dream will make sure it won't ever end.

。。。

Credits

Undertale © Toby Fox

Dream!Sans © jokublog

Cross!Sans © jakei95 / xtaleunderverse

Shattered Dream © galacii-gallery / shattereddreamsau

Dark Cream and Dark Cream Week © zu-is-here

X-tra Dark Cream © me (anfie / anfie-in-the-box)

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Notes

How'd you like it? I personally love love love Dream's suffering in this one. He's so uncertain and insecure, and Cross is there for him to never let him fall. So much Hurt/Comfort!

#anfie writes #x-tra dark cream fic #dark cream week #dark cream #shattered!dream #cross!sans #utmv

[anfie-in-the-box]

Fluffynightkiller Week

Notes

I am late, but not quite? This was written before the fifth day of the challenge, but I felt insecure about this piece so I didn't post it. It's My Hero Academia x UTMV crossover where Ccino works for Dream in a cafe right in front of the greatest hero school in the world, and Dream's twin Night is Ccino's significant other and also a villain Nightmare visits the cafe regularly. Only this time is special — Night is also in love with one of his villain subordinates, Killer, and it's the day Night's two lovers meet each other. Killer — or, rather, Target, specifically when he's around civilians, like Nightmare and Night, — so, Killer is interested in the coffee boy his boss is so fond of, but Ccino... Oh, would you look at that. Ccino finds himself mesmerised to the point when usual shyness leaves him.

Also, for those who are not familiar with MHA, it's a world where almost everyone has a Quirk — a special ability from making your eyes change colour to super strength to, well, those I saw fit for the characters of this piece.

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Day 5: Red

Ccino is, by all means, a background character. His Quirk is nothing special — an oddly specific passive ability to measure drinkable liquids exactly like another person wants their beverage to be. That's why he works at a cafe — a normal job, as plain as he is. What's unusual about it is that the said cafe is the nearest to the UTMV — the best hero university in the world. Their guests are both teachers — real Pro Heroes — and stidents, the future of their world. It's such an honor to serve them, and Ccino is forever grateful to Dream for hiring him straight after graduation. The place has become his second home.

Ccino's first home has always been by Night's side. They grew up in the same orphanage — Dream, his brother Night, and Ccino, a couple of years younger than the twins. And if Dream was a star — no, the sun — everyone loved and praised him and his Positive Aura, a perfect Quirk for heroics, — then Night with his Negative Aura was an eclipse, leaving everyone uneasy and volatile. And then there was Ccino, suffering from depression in his young age and being blamed and gaslighted by everyone. He barely felt the effect of the Positive Aura and found sanctuary and validation in the Negative Aura. Then, when they were all teenagers, Ccino realised he's long since fallen in love with Night. And there was no way he'd stay quiet.

So he confessed. He still remembers how soft Night's features and voice got in response. Ccino was blessed to see a rare genuine smile, too. Night warned Ccino their relationship won't be easy, hinted at his plans after he leaves the orphanage, but Ccino wasn't afraid.

That was before.

Now, he's washing the tables after a busy day. When the bells chime, he smiles widely and turns around, expecting to see Night — for the first time not alone but with someone special.

They talked about it a lot during the last month. When Night admitted he also loves another person, Ccino was ready to let him go. Only it wasn't what Night wanted — he loves them both and doesn't want to lose either of them. Could Ccino do this? Share his beloved with someone else? Of course he could, the answer was. He already did. Night used every opportunity to see Ccino, but still was a busy monster. Nightmare, the most nefarious Villain in the world, and his group of misfits.

And today Ccino is meeting one of his subordinates, the one who cought not only attention but also affection of the King of Negativity. Must be someone truly special.

Not that Ccino is special himself. He's just lucky he and Night are childhood sweethearts who never grew apart...

Ccino takes a step forward to hug Night and greet his another love. Only words fail him — he lowers his gaze to the brightest part of the two, a red heart-shaped soul, glowing and swirling gently. He can't look away.

Night chuckles fondly, "Enthralling, isn't he?"

Of course he notices where Ccino's gaze is attracted.

Ccino blushes and tries to pull himself together, barely managing to squeak, "Anything to drink?"

"We both know you already know," Night teases.

"Yeah, right... I'll just, uh, go. Give me a minute."

。。。

Ccino might just have a problem. That problem is not two Villains in elegant costumes sitting near the window of the cafe, chatting — although it looks like Killer talks and Night listens. Also, yeah, he knows who Killer is, even with his soul stable and heart-shaped. He watches the news from time to time. There are lots of soul conditions and mutations in the world of Quirks, so no one pays much attention if any at all. And so Killer is unrecognisable to the public. Just get civilian clothes and control determination and hate leaking from his sockets.

Anyway. The problem is that Ccino can't tear his eye-lights away from Killer's soul. He can't help it, weak before its beauty and captivation. He's just like that with Night, and Night knows it.

Ccino really, really wants to touch Killer's red and white soul. For moment, it's all he sees — and he knows Night knows, the empath that he is.

Ccino is sure to make a fool of himself at least once.

"Here's your coffee, and your tea. I hope you like it." Ccino says awkwardly but serving the cups masterfully.

Then he sits down in front of Night and Killer. And it's so... they're both so...

It's rude to stare, but Ccino's already gone. He's warm all over, and his hands itch to touch, to caress.

Killer gives him a charming smile. Night watches them fondly and finally says, "Ccino, this is Killer. Please call him Target whenever he's in civilian clothes. Killer, this is Ccino."

"Would you look at that, the legendary coffee boy is right in front of me, and what a sight!" Killer — Target?.. — sips his coffee and grins slyly, "It's actually perfect! How about I give you something in return?"

Flustered, Ccino lowers his gaze, but mumbles, "Could I someday touch your soul?.."

Target's grin widens. "...Well, I did not expect that, but you know what? Sure, do it!"

Just like that?!

But Ccino really, really wants to... The red glow lures him closer, makes him forget all rules and limitations. He side-eyes Night — touching someone's soul is so very intimate, after all. But Night nods in Target's direction and smiles softly. So Ccino, supported by them both, lets himself give in to the magnetic desire to touch.

He does, leaning forward over the table and finally touching the heart-shaped target. It's exhilarating in an absolutely different way from Night, and yet so very pleasant. Red glow grows brighter, warming Ccino's own soul. Does Target trust him that much already?..

。。。

The three of them talk a lot, mostly Target and Ccino who need to get to know each other better. Or maybe don't need, exactly, but definitely want to.

Night hugs Ccino and kisses him goodbye, and then Target demands a kiss as well, and looking at them doesn't feel like betrayal or jealousy.

It feels like home.

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Credits

Ccino © black-nyanko

Nightmare © jokublog

Killer © rahafwabas

Fluffynightkiller Week © @help-im-a-gay-fish

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Notes

I'm still not satisfied with this, but hopefully someone else will be. I'd also really appreciate feedback, both from people familiar and unfamiliar with My Hero Academia.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and take care 🌻

#anfie writes #fluffynightkiller #fluffynightkiller week #ccino!sans #nightmare!sans #killer!sans