#yandere nightmare sans

[yanderes-galore]

Hello, may I request a Nightmare Sans vs Dream Sans with a human darling concept, please ? Thank you !

The most I know about them is through Underverse so I apologize if this isn't quite what you wanted! Sorry for the long wait, hope you enjoy!

Yandere! Nightmare Sans vs Dream Sans with Human! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Sadism, Possessive behavior, Violence, Mentions of death, Forced companionship/relationship.

If I am correct, Dream is drawn to positive emotions, while Nightmare is drawn to negative emotions.

Which gives me this idea...

I think it would be interesting to play around with the idea of them appearing on your highs and lows.

So let's say you meet Dream first, due to an overflowing amount of positive energy coming from you and your universe.

When you meet Dream he's quirky, talkative, and overdramatic.

Just being around him seems to make you happy.

Dream no doubt wishes to act like a protector/guardian around you.

He's drawn to your positive energy and wants to preserve that.

But maybe something devastating happens to you.

An event happens to you and your universe and that manages to catch Nightmare's attention.

Nightmare loves the opportunity to corrupt others, plus, he can just tell Dream likes you a lot.

As a result, Nightmare would pounce on the opportunity to corrupt and use you.

Instead of being greeted by the cheery golden skeleton to help your mood... you're greeted by a sadistic monster.

Nightmare would make it his goal to make you feel worse.

After all, the more pain he inflicts, the more he can control you.

Dream is no doubt going to notice his new favorite human is being influenced.

When Nightmare leaves and Dream returns, Dream is worried when he sees you in such a bad state.

Which leads into Dream cheering you up... and Nightmare coming back to corrupt once again.

A rivalry between these two feels like it would just be a big game of Keep Away or Tug of War.

Dream is protective of you, he hates it when Nightmare uses you.

Dream tells you Nightmare doesn't care for you... he wants to toy with you and use you.

So... you should only rely on Dream to protect you.

He'll try his best.

Meanwhile Nightmare manipulates you by saying Dream can't get rid of him.

Even if Dream protects you and deters Nightmare... he'll never leave you alone.

Nightmare will keep coming back... all to play with you.

You'll belong to no one else but Nightmare.

Eventually the two are going to fight over you when they arrive at the same time.

Dream is quick to protect you, annoying yet also amusing Nightmare.

The two will no doubt then continue their rivalry in a physical battle, much to your dismay.

The thing about this rivalry is I'm not sure if it would end.

They can't get rid of each other fully, always lingering and coming back to you later.

Unfortunately, I hate to say this, but until one of them relents or you die... it may just go on forever.

Dream wants you happy and protected... while Nightmare wants you miserable and controlled by him.

The ultimate battle between good and evil... and until someone intervenes (if they can)...

You're stuck in the middle of it.

#yandere underverse #yandere dreamtale #yandere dream sans #yandere nightmare sans

[undertale-writing-times]

May I ask for some more yandere nightmare please?

Sure! Thanks for the ask, this was fun :)

With Nightmare being your yandere, you would have had to have done something that caught his attention. Normally he doesn't feel that kind of attraction.

Maybe something about you was different? Maybe your negative feelings tasted better than everyone else's? Who knows, just something caught his attention and he knew that he wanted you.

And ONLY you.

He would send his boys to check you out, make sure that you were safe, spy on you to make sure nothing was happening and sometimes, even he would go out himself to check up on you.

It would take a while for him to decide that he wanted you to come to the house, in his own world, and he does it without warning. You would have felt like you've been watched for a long time then one day, either you just wake up in Nightmare's castle or you would have gotten pulled through a portal and wrapped in his tentacles.

It all really depends :)

But once he has you, there's no way you'd be able to get away. You're in his world, and unless you can open portals you aren't getting out and even if you can, good luck getting away from him.

He'll search for you until he finds you or dies. Once he latches on, it's like trying to wash out a stain. Never gonna happen.

#Yandere #Yandere Nightmare #Yandere Nightmare Sans #Nightmare Sans #Nightmare #Dreamtale #Dreamtale Nightmare #I dunno what I'm doing

[chocolatte-and-despair]

What if nightmare’s S/O went on a mission without nightmare’s consent then dies what would nightmare’s reaction be?

Nightmare Sans

At the beginning, all Nightmare could do is feel rage. Then, he would laugh. And laugh. And laugh until all he can do is cry. What else is there to do when your loved one dies. When you probably died thinking that he hated you.

At the beginning, he would try to find you in other AUs, but it wouldn't take long to realize that even if they look like you, they simply aren't you.

Nightmare would live in what ifs after that. What if he wasn't so controlling, would you have told him you were going? What if he told you he loved you? Would you still be here? Would you be in his arms instead of six feet underground?

#yandere undertale imagines #yandere imagines #undertale imagines #yandere undertale headcanons #yandere headcanons #undertale headcanons #yandere #yandere undertale #nightmare sans #yandere nightmare sans

[look-a-yandere-fandom-blog]

What would nightmare sans be like as a yandere? How cruel would he be? Would he kidnaps his darling? Punishments?

Yandere! Nightmare Sans Headcanons

Fandom: Dreamtale / Undertale Multiverse.

No spoilers.

Character Version: Corrupted Nightmare.

_________________________________

CW: Stalking, kidnapping, possessive behaviour, mentions of murder, implied emotional abuse.

(If there’s anything else I need to add to the TWs please let me know).

Thanks for this ask anon!

If there’s anything I didn’t touch on that you’d like me to answer, feel free to send in another ask!

_________________________________

- Nightmare as a yandere…

- I’m going to put it simply: his darling is screwed.

- I see Nightmare as a possessive, sadistic, and loneliness induction type yandere.

- First question, is kidnapping on the table? Yes. Yes. And yes.

- Though he won’t jump to kidnapping immediately, it’s definitely on the to-do list.

- He’ll indulge in some stalking beforehand, this can last from weeks, to months, even years, depending on how quickly his obsession worsens.

- Once he’s finally acknowledged it, Nightmare would blame his darling for his obsession. Yelling at them, telling his darling that it’s their fault he’s like this. That it’s their fault they’re stuck in this situation. If only they hadn’t caught his attention, they wouldn’t be trapped with him.

- Second, cruelty…

- Nightmare is an inherently malicious and cruel entity. This behaviour extends to his darling.

- As his abilities are feeling-based, Nightmare focuses on mental torment rather than physical pain (most of the time). He focuses on wearing his darling down, grinding their hope to nothing, and forcing them to depend on him.

- He intends on making his darling solely dedicated to him. Solely interacting with him. Solely thinking about him. Nothing else and no one else, but him.

- One thing to note is that completely breaking his darling is not what Nightmare wants. A blank slate with no thoughts or feelings isn’t any fun.

- To add to this, although he’s a remorseless monster, Nightmare’s aware that constantly subjecting his darling to pain and torture won’t benefit him in the long term. After a while his darling would just end up shutting down. And he doesn’t want that. So, rarely, he’s affectionate, almost kind, to them.

- Although he prefers mind games, a bit of good old-fashioned violence is still on Nightmare’s table.

- If his darling is deemed to have stepped too far out of line, a few nights in the dungeons should straighten them out.

- If that doesn’t work, Nightmare would target those close to his beloved. Threatening, torturing, or simply murdering them. All in front of his darling, of course.

- As last resort, Nightmare might physically harm his darling. He’s careful not to cause a lethal amount of damage, but he’d make them wish it was.

- However, Nightmare despises when other people harm them. Jealousy claws at his mind whenever someone other than him dares to hurt his darling. He hates the thought of someone else seeing them so vulnerable, of someone else making them suffer and squirm. He’s the only one who’s allowed to cause them pain. And his methods of getting the message across are rather… extreme.

“Oh darling, don’t give me that look... You knew what you were getting into, so you shouldn’t be surprised that I’m keeping you all to myself~”

#yandere nightmare sans #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #male yandere #tw yandere #yandere blog #nightmare x reader #yandere nightmare sans x reader #undertaleau

[zu-is-here]

Red

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

An Unhealthy Obsession AU by help-im-a-gay-fish

Ccino by black-nyanko

Nightmare by jokublog

Killer by rahafwabas / rahaf-wabas / rahofy-sketch

#yandere #blood #zu art #fluffynightkiller #fluffynightkiller week #yandere!ccino #yandere!killer #nightmare!sans #passive!nightmare #ccino!sans #killer!sans #undertale #undertale au #utmv #it was way too late to realize that I might've gone way too far— #so feel free to say if more warning tags are needed! ówò #this ''yandere Nightmare?'' tag still haunts me— but the continuation is up to you ;)

[teasworldstuff]

AU Sans as ASMR!!

i spent ages on this (longest drawing yet!!) and i rlly hope it does well despite being such a niche concept 😭😭

Ink: Sketching You (comyet)

Dream: Positive Affirmations (jokublog)

Horror: Eating/Chewing (sour-apple-studios)

Error: Spiderweb/Strings (CrayonQueen)

Nightmare: Slime (jokublog)

Underswap! Sans: Personal Attentjon (popcornpr1nce)

Murder: Scratching (ask-dusttale)

Killer: Whispers (rahafwabas) [tumblr doesn’t like the other word]

Cross: Fluffy Mic (jakei95)

#sans undertale #undertale #undertale au #drawing #sans #sans au #digital painting #undertale fanart #ink sans #dream sans #horror sans #error sans #nightmare sans #underswap #yandere #murder sans #dust sans #killer sans #cross sans #asmr #horror #asmrcommunity

[umeboshi--bones]

dont imagine shattered dream>:)

CW: yandere

Don't imagine that you're sitting, by yourself, brain mired in negative thoughts, the stress and pain of your life drowning you.

Don't imagine the overwhelming wave of negativity suddenly rising around you only to be succinctly silenced.

Dont imagine that everything goes silent around you, unnaturally so, you can't even hear your own heartbeat; tendrils crawl into your vision, you feel something press against your back.

Don't imagine a smooth, velvet voice, cooing to you almost lovingly?

"Oh, darling, sweet girl, what darkens your heart so? I could taste it, so far from me. Tell me, whisper it if you find it easier."

Don't imagine breaking under the thoughts in your head, and tearfully you whisper to the darkness.

Don't imagine the darkness clicking its tongue and the tentacles hovering around you begins to make a cocoon around you.

Don't imagine the edge in his voice when he discovers that the source of your soul splitting sadness happens to be downstairs.

Don't imagine the darkness condensing before you, a skeleton made of darkness and sludge emerging. He smiles at you, it is sad and doesn't match his voice.

Don't imagine he turns and takes your headphones from your desk, placing them snugly to your ears, a tentacle scrolling through your music list on your phone, to choose one with the most plays.

"You do not want to listen to anything but what is in these headphones, my dear."

Dont imagine the smile on his face sharpens, he turns back to undulating shadow and slips out of the cracks of the bedroom door.

Especially don't imagine he returns to you moments later, to bring you up to him as he floats supported by two thick tentacles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, murmuring that you will be so much happier with him, this universe doesn't deserve a soul like yours.

And what ever you do, don't imagine that the surge of happiness that floods you feels a little tinged with dread as you look into that burning amber eye studying your face.

Or the smirk that stretches a crescent of brilliant white across his dark face, as your vision blurs and a nothingness takes you, as you are taken from the universe by his arms, by his kiss.

Oh and don't imagine the absolute wipe of your AU, ending in terror and blood, all for you beloved, all for you darling.

All. For. You.

#shattered dream #shattered!dream #dream sans #nightmare sans #undertale #answered asks #hoo boy this one got away from me #and fast #dont worry pet #he will take care of you #and those who dare cause any harm #double dog dare he will fuck you up dont try it #cw yandere #yandere #shattered dream x reader #dream x reader

[lover-of-skellies]

#sans fight night 2024 #undertale #undertale au #yanberry #yandere swap sans #yandere underswap sans #yandere blueberry #yandere blueberry sans #underswap sans #swap sans #blueberry sans #underswap #underswap au #swap dreamtale #swap dreamtale au #swap dreamtale nightmare

[normal-person-i-promise]

I'd just like to clarify that i do NOT know how old nightmare was when he ate the apple, i simply assumed he was older. like not a minor if he indeed is a child then please tell me i will take this down

god i am so sorry >.<

Blood tw!!

Bad Apple

dreamtale belongs to jokublog

cross-posted to ao3! -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/51085057

As Nightmare finished off the last apple, his painful shriek split the air as four great tentacles burst from his back: thrashing, physical manifestations of negativity, his body too full of hate, anger, envy, and...

Love.

He loved you, he realized. Loved you a lot more than he thought he did. And when he realized he finally had enough power to scare the townspeople and have you all to himself, he was ecstatic.

* * *

He was just a boy. He just wanted friends, he just wanted people who cared about him.

They shunned him. Called him a monster, called him the devil.

Then you came along. You talked to him, you played with him, you sat with him, you smiled at him — and all these things combined would have made his SOUL flutter if he had one. He treasured you, savouring the moments when your eyes met his, the short seconds when his rough bone met your soft skin, those special times when the sun would hit your eyes just right and make them sparkle in the sunlight.

You were delicate.

Fragile.

Day after day he would talk to you — talk to you until the sky grew dark, until the only sound was your voices — until sleep took over and you dozed off in each other's arms. He would talk to you about the stars' grace in their eternal dances across the night sky, their steps never halting; about the moon's beauty, her soft glow guiding travellers in the night, protecting them from harm; about the sun's light, ever shining, bringing warmth to your world — about how nice it was, just the two of you.

Sometimes, he would take a black apple from the tree, place it gently in your hands, and let you marvel at it. The apples had such intricate swirls, designs so winding that you could get lost in them — like a maze — if you stared too long.

He'd let you sit by the tree with him, the both of you tracing the ancient bark's ornate patterns with your fingertips under the moonlight, admiring its beauty.

He'd tell you stories of his mother, the original guardian; he'd tell you of how he remembered her face, her eyes full of kindness, a smile gracing her lips. Her hands were always warm and welcoming, almost beckoning, and her touches were ever so gentle.

The memory was vague and distant.

And as the leaves fell from the tree and the sky grew dark, Nightmare looked at you. He looked at you with sockets open wide, regret and guilt swirling within them; he stared at you, right through you, gripping the once-golden apple in a hand clenched too tight, held by a form too tense.

The townsfolk were angry. After all, why wouldn't Nightmare do something like this? Why wouldn't he doom them all? They were practically waiting for this to happen, practically waiting for an excuse to kill him.

So as a last-ditch attempt to stay alive from the violent townspeople, Nightmare listened to that voice. He sank his teeth into the black apple in his hand, the perfect blend of sweet and sour flooding his senses — he became addicted to them, like a drug, eating them one after another.

But as he bit into apple after apple, the townsfolk started to back away as things started to happen to him.

Black muck as thick as tar began to pool and flood from any openings they could, blocking his right eye, coating all the surfaces it touched. The substance itself had a putrid smell, like a rotting carcass or spoilt fruit.

His emotions started to distort, hate and anger being prevalent among them, souring his mood. He could feel himself getting bolder with each bite he took, his confidence soaring, his mind unhinging.

But even though he had such hatred to the townsfolk, he never once had a negative thought about you. You were someone who cared about him, someone who kept him company when his brother went off to help the townfolk, someone who talked to him, someone who would love him. You alone had done more to help him than all of the town combined, and he wasn't willing to let that go unrewarded.

As Nightmare finished off the last apple, his painful shriek split the air as four great tentacles burst from his back: thrashing, physical manifestations of negativity, his body too full of hate, anger, envy, and...

Love.

He loved you, he realized. Loved you a lot more than he thought he did. And when he realized he finally had enough power to scare the townspeople and have you all to himself, he was ecstatic.

Vaguely, Nightmare could see their scared faces, eyes wide and fearful, or hear their screams, full of terror — but it all seemed far away to him.

He was thinking about you. How you were too soft, too easily broken; how your skin seemed to glow in the gentle light of the moon, the way you would smile contentedly, — and how he would protect you from this moment onwards.

What could they do that he wouldn't?

They never talked to you, they never helped with you, they never even looked at you, too disgusted by the fact that you talked to Nightmare, the living embodiment of bad emotions.

Not like it mattered.

He could love you, alone, and you wouldn't need anyone. You wouldn't have to work, you wouldn't have to cook, you wouldn't have to do anything.

He would do it all for you if you loved him.

He ran to you, tentacles eager to feel your skin, hands reaching for a warm embrace — but the closer he came to you, the more scared you got, tears starting to pool at your eyes as your whole body tensed.

When Nightmare realized you weren't running to him, he stopped, his wide grin dropping, outstretched arms and tentacles falling. His change of emotion was near instant; he bared his teeth, almost growling, his shoulders raising while his single socket narrowed, crumpling into a look of utter rage.

"WHY WON'T YOU COME TO ME!?" He roared, voice echoing and hackles raising, hands balling into fists. Fear and anxiety were climbing up your throat, threatening to spill — your body was shaking as you struggled to keep your knees from quaking, your eyes too wet with tears blurring your vision.

This wasn't him. You both knew that.

Still a little far from you, he reached out a jet-black hand — and almost immediately his tentacles surged towards you, black sludge falling off them like rain from clouds. They wrapped around you, tightening, suffocating you while pulling you towards Nightmare faster than you could react — stopping just in front of him, inches away from his outstretched hand.

It was when he lowered his hand that you saw that his glowing teal pupil was a SOUL, looking straight through you.

Upon seeing you up close, his grin widened, showing one too many teeth and splitting his face in half. He was quiet for the longest time, just staring at you, greedily drinking in your fear as the tentacles wound about your skin uncomfortably, though softly — as if you were made of porcelain — leaving trails of black sludge.

The villagers, curious about the silence, came from where they hid. They found the perfect excuse in front of their eyes: a horrible monster, primed and ready to kill an innocent civilian.

"Monster!"

"Beast!"

"Devil!"

You whirled around (what little you could, at least) to face the villagers who said those horrid things, begging them to stop. He didn't hurt you! He's fine, really! Don't make it worse!

They paid you no heed.

When you turned back to what was once Nightmare, sweet Nightmare, he was livid. His eye socket was brimming with anger, his teeth were bared, and his hands were balled into tight fists.

The tentacles first released you, gently — stilling for a moment — then shooting out in all directions, elongating, killing any villager in sight in all the ways you could name. Tears pooled at your eyes as your hands covered your mouth in shock.

"What's wrong, darling?" A voice sounded, smooth and collected. Calm. It was him who spoke.

When you looked back at him, you saw that thing staring at you through, SOUL-shaped eye light almost appearing to beat, his grin thin and sly.

You couldn't speak.

"Is it not beautiful?" Holding your hand, he gestured with his free one, surveying the village: the strong smell of copper in the air, the blood staining the green grass red, the countless severed body parts littering the floor. You could hear cries of pain and shouts for help, begging for the pain to stop, begging for their families back, begging for forgiveness.

"Did they not get what they deserved?"

You looked into that socket, brimming with madness, hatred, anger — but also love, adoration, infatuation — as if he expected you to be proud of him for punishing those who had wronged him. He looked at you expectantly, awaiting your answer.

"Th-this isn't r-right." You stumbled through your words as your soft voice wavered, your cheeks wet with tears.

"Oh? And why is that so, my love?" He leaned into you, pulling you closer to him, tentacles caressing your skin. You were soft — so soft — and no matter how many times Nightmare touched you, he could never not be awed by your delicate skin. You grow uncomfortable, and try to put some space between the two of you to no avail.

"Th-they didn't h-have to die." You tried, in vain, to keep your voice steady and to stop hiccuping.

He glared at you, single socket narrowing.

"What did they do that I didn't to garner this much attention from you?" You could tell that he was becoming aggravated by the way he tightened his grip on you, his teeth grinding, a voice that wasn't Nightmare's struggling to get out from behind them.

"A-ah! Um..." You stutter, tears falling to the ground as you squirmed uncomfortably in his grip. You pointedly avoid his gaze, opting to look at everything else, making you cry even more.

"ANSWER ME!" Tightening his grip on you, you could feel the black sludge staining your clothes, weighing you down.

"I-I don't like them m-more!" You weren't lying; you didn't like them more than you did Nightmare (what with all the things they've done to him, done to you), but whatever he was now... It was a different story.

Still, he seemed to believe it, judging by how he visibly sagged, loosening his grip.

He pulled you into him, trapping you against his body in a web of arms and tentacles, promptly sitting down on the grass and pulling you with him. Bringing you into his lap and caging you against him, he kissed your head more times than you could count, muttering and mumbling sweet nothings into your hair. He basked in the scent of you, a sweet, alluring fragrance, and relished the fact that now, if only for a moment, you would smell like him.

You could feel a rumbling from within his ribcage getting louder and louder the more he kissed your head to the point where it was all that you could hear.

Chuckling.

Then, a strangled,

"You drive me mad—" Then he was squeezing you, his arms wrapped firmly around you, pinning yours to your sides. Preventing you from leaving. He continued to kiss your head softly, murmuring, when a shout came from behind:

"Leave her alone!" It was quite clear that it was Dream that spoke, judging from the voice and by Nightmare tightening his grip on you as he halted his affections.

When Dream spoke again, asking to let you go, Nightmare growled. The sound echoed through his hollow ribcage, reverberating through yours from where you were pressed up against him, sending shivers down your spine as footsteps approached.

"This isn't you." That was clear, alright; the voice was close enough that you knew for certain it was Dream, and you could tell by the tone that he wasn't all too pleased.

Nightmare got up, tangling you in his tentacles, impeding your escape.

"Your brother is gone." The way that Nightmare uttered those words sent shivers down your spine, your skin tingling as goosebumps rose from beneath your skin.

Dream summoned something — it was hard to tell, black sludge coated your vision — but then you were gently put down on one of the taller cottage's roofs, allowing you to both not be hurt and to be able to observe what was unfolding before you.

They were fighting.

Truly, if it was to be attempted, their battle could not be captured by words, no matter how hard one could try.

Although it won't be easy, there will be an attempt to describe what cannot be described.

Nightmare was the graceful one — he was almost like a dancer, feet barely touching the bloodstained grass, his form never still: every one of his movements smooth and calculated. Dream, on the other hand, appeared inexperienced — his motions were hesitant, too fast here, too slow there — and though he could dodge the sharp black tentacles that came for him, slicing through the empty air, the way he moved didn't look nearly as effortless as his opponent's motions.

The fighting went on for quite a while, from what you could tell, but you weren't really paying attention. You were mostly praying that Dream would be the winner, since he would likely have some way to fix this, and who knew what Nightmare wanted with you.

You were sitting down on the roof comfortably, your crying having subsided, when the fighting noises abruptly stopped. You tried to see who won, craning your neck, before a glowing teal eye light looked right through you.

There were no signs of Dream.

Nightmare smiled at you, his thin grin splitting his face in half.

"There's no one left."

His low baritone rang out through the quiet village, the only sound for a thousand miles; confirming your suspicions as you choked back sobs, Nightmare making his way towards you, his grin victorious, his stride prideful.

He scaled the cottage wall, tentacles grabbing at each and every little imperfection, using them as grips to get closer and closer to you.

He lowered himself onto the roof, gently making contact.

His grin impossibly widened before he slowly walked towards you, each step making the wood creak as your anxiety heightened.

You looked behind you — the drop wasn't far enough to kill you, but it definitely was enough to leave you with a broken leg or two. Seeing as you had no other choice, you turned on your heel and bolted.

"Oh, I do love a chase."

You couldn't see what Nightmare was doing, but you didn't hear any footsteps as you leapt from where you stood.

The fall was quite quick.

There was a wet crack when you collided with the ground, but before you could register what it was, you heard something behind you. Adrenaline can be powerful, you realize as you get to your feet, barely feeling any pain as you made a break for it.

Where you were going was secondary, the strong urge to get away overpowering your senses and clouding your judgement.

Occasionally, you'd hear his laughter, full of mirth, and would glance at him for only a second. A grin split his face every time he caught sight of your's, his tentacles' movements growing erratic, almost excited.

You'd face the front again quickly.

You ran for at least an hour before you couldn't anymore, intending to stop for a short break to get your energy back.

Looking behind you and seeing that Nightmare was gone, you made your way into one of the abandoned houses, sitting down on the floor. Your legs were burning, feeling like they could give out at any moment, and you were so thirsty that you couldn't think straight.

I'm just going to lie down for a while...

...

Nightmare looked through the broken glass and peered at your form, sound asleep.

Now was the perfect time to go in there and take you. But...

He had heard something when you collided unceremoniously with the ground.

...

Ah. You had broken a bone, most likely your tibia on your right leg, judging by the way you slept on the cold, hard floor.

That was no good.

He turned, calmly, and made his way to the clinic to collect bandages, water, and a long piece of wood.

He walked through the empty town, surveying the area with a lidded eye socket for anyone who was still alive.

He regarded the felled tree with little emotion as he cut it up even further, carving a piece into the exact length of your leg to act as a crutch to make sure your it healed right.

Once he got the supplies he needed, he walked back to the cottage you were sleeping in and slowly opened the door, careful not to make too much noise, lest he rouse you from your slumber. Kneeling beside you, he gently took your injured leg and put the piece of wood next to it, securing it tightly with the rolled-up bandages.

He leaned back to inspect his work, humming in approval.

His eyes drifted to your sleeping face, wanting nothing more than to feel it under his phalanges — to caress your delicate skin. You were so pretty, just like a doll, soft skin almost glowing as your chest rose and fell.

He took in a breath through his teeth.

His tentacles itched to feel your skin, soft and smooth; his hands twitching to hold yours, small and breakable.

He stared at you again, watching, as you adjusted your position and felt the wood on your leg. Your face scrunched a little, brows furrowing and mouth pressing into a thin line as you tried to move your broken leg before failing and grimacing.

Your eyes shifted beneath your lids before they slowly fluttered open, hazy eyes looking everywhere before settling on him. You just languidly blink your sleepy eyes before looking down at your leg, noticing the wood, and waking up a little bit more.

Your hands slowly came to the plank tied to your leg, before you quickly retracted them, whipping your head up to look at Nightmare.

You were more awake now, evidenced by your wide and fearful eyes looking up at him while he drank it all in, single socket open wide, staring into you.

Stars above you were cute.

Your face went through several emotions in a few seconds before you ultimately decided that your best course of action was to try and get away from him again. Before you could make any moves, though, Nightmare's black, bony hands gripped at your upper arms tightly, grin widening and waning as his one eye socket narrowed in delight.

"Where are you going, love?" Your eyes widened, form stiffening as his intense teal eye light bore into you, the SOUL shape it had taken appearing it beat, like a cheerless imitation of a heart.

You swallowed.

"You are aware that resistance is futile?"

He said those words with such glee, such elation that it made your stomach drop.

His eye light flickered down to your injured leg.

"You are in no condition to walk — let alone run — my dear." He brought his hand up, gently brushing a sludge-covered finger across your cheek before promptly shoving the ink-black hand beneath your knees, the other snaking behind your back.

He lifted you with ease, black, slimy hands gripping your soft body as he began walking, ignorant of your struggles. He was very gentle — gentler than you thought he would be. The way he handled you reminded you of how one would treat a porcelain doll: with tremendous care, like you would break if he so much as breathed on you wrong.

He walked through the village with little difficulty, occasionally checking on you, peering into fearful eyes with a fondness too great to describe.

He made his way to somewhere near the tree, although it had already been cut to pieces smaller than a hair. He stopped, and his tentacles came forward and picked a large stone from the ground, and upon closer inspection... It was Dream, petrified, a look of terror forever etched on his grey face.

You held back tears as Nightmare nonchalantly picked up the statue without any of the care he had given you, and you watched in horror as the pain became too much and things started getting fuzzy, eventually making you lose consciousness.

#dying rn #grrrggrgrr im sisyphus #endlessly editing this thing #showing off my first aid skills 😎 #wowie i sure do love dashes and semicolons #nighmare x reader #nightmare sans x reader #nightmare!sans x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #blood #tw blood #blood tw #sans x reader #nightmare sans #nightmare!sans #fic #words on a page #<- writing tag #IS CROSS-POSTED THE RGIHT WORD #FIXED IT #IM USING THE EM DASH NOW #ALL GOOD

[yandere-toons]

I saw one of the anon ask if your write for underverse.

Do you think you could gives a scenario with yandere nightmar sans? Anything really. Just a small drabble is all I ask:)

WARNING: implied depression, blood, fantasy violence, grief.

WORD COUNT: 3.125

The cloud cover had swallowed the sky in a veil of fog and torrential darkness, but on nights when the crickets sang no more and the frogs kept to the water, it parted under the patchwork of stars waiting to twinkle at the unconscious countryside.

The moon's eye skirted the ribbons of a tattered curtain and fluttered across the wooden frame set atop a bedside table, which bore the crumpled photograph of a family. Those rising curves of joy on their lips, the same assault of happiness his brother oozed like the sun bled heat, drew a low hiss from deep within Nightmare.

The thrashes of a tentacle or two whipping the air overhead punctuated the rumbling crackle rolling between his gritted teeth. Every second he brooded, the shadows of lamps, bedposts, and a chest of drawers thickened and stretched farther. The room grew dank and instinct with pressure until breathing was akin to having a pair of hands wrap around your neck and squeeze.

That facial atrocity had a name; smiles, he recalled, but even the word repulsed him like the acrid stink of vomit. It conjured up visions of two siblings reclining under the shade of a tree swaying with bountiful leaves, of promises made and then broken, of a schism between brother and brother, light and dark.

You played among the joyful souls in the photograph and shared in their touches and sandwiches, looking a far different person than the heap of sweat and nerves turning over in your bed. Nightmare allowed his gaze to linger for a bemused instant before the pull of that bitter edge lurking in his every thought called him back to the happy little fools and their sepia stares.

The willingness with which they shoved at him a sick buoyancy defied his power and mocked his work. The urge to tear that lightsomeness away from them and plunge them into misery began to burn within him, spurring his tentacles to writhe until one whacked the picture frame off the table.

It flew into a spinning collision course with the wall and caromed off it to crack the peace of a fitful sleep. The battered frame thudded against the hardwood floor, lying face down in a pool of glass shards.

You jumped into a scrambled consciousness at the clamour like a cannonade, and your eyes, encrusted with an awkward mix of bleary and vigilant, swept the room in anticipation of some calamity. Motionless and impregnable darkness, perfect camouflage for any terrors, met your search rather than the feared intruder charging through the door or the tremors of an earthquake.

Howling winds raged past your walls and produced a sustained groan approaching something human, a cruel and grotesque imitation of a lost soul calling out. Each gust tapped the windows like the fingers of someone asking to be invited in from the cold.

This shallow comfort allowed you a moment to peel back the sheets, wherein you noticed and floundered with how tangled about you they had become. With a streak of adrenaline pounding as drums in your head, you fumbled out of bed and made a beeline for the light switch protruding from the adjacent wall.

As your next step pressed down upon a sleek and scattered surface, a crunch popped the silence as a needle would a balloon. Sharp pain sliced the sole of your foot, and in the excruciating jolt up your leg, the skin seemed to catch fire.

You clamped your teeth on your lower lip and sucked in a puff of air, withholding the yelp that had leapt to the roof of your mouth. Opening your eyes from a tight squint, you peered down into the shadows and reached out to something by your foot.

The rigid ends and cool, smooth sides of a wooden rectangle slid against your fingertips. The silvery gleaming of crimson droplets on the clear sheen of fragmented glass was reflected in the coarse surface of a wrinkled photograph, its image spotty and worn away around the edges.

Those who helped form some of your happiest memories looked back at you, and this reminder took the pang from your foot and redirected it to an ache in your heart. A wave of dizzying exhaustion and the urge to slump into bed again washed over you, no matter how much you had slept the previous days away.

Time had faded many of their features into obscurity, but the twist of that old contentment they left with you was a wound forever open. You rubbed your thumb across the bumpy, sandpapery face of someone no longer around, and just for a moment, the distant peal of their laughter echoed from a room you had not touched in months.

How sweet to drink from the bottle of grief until you found it had no bottom. The tower of dirty dishes by the kitchen sink rose higher, and each time you chose a third nap over chores, Nightmare got stronger. He fed on your lethargy and silent aches like a flea on a dog's back, every bite taking a little more out of you.

Sleep, once a beloved respite from the agony of an empty house, now plagued you with hair-raising visions of inhuman faces hovering outside your windows, looking in while you had no voice to deter the eyes moving over your body. As you fought against your sheets as if they were a beast at your throat, something insidious whispered for you to fall into that comfortable trap and let the idea of escaping it, the burden of hope, slip away.

In the centre of the bedroom, a sphere of brilliant starlight glimmered in the image of the heavens. Its rays upon you were like the sun on your skin after a bleak and drizzly winter. This beacon promised a better future as it dimmed into the shape of a golden-eyed face, which chased away the darkling tendrils coiling around your bed.

The nips of biting air, once thick enough to drown in, lifted, and you grew weightless, seeming to float between silk sheets instead of your mangy bundle of loose threads, a mattress of clouds rather than your glorified boulder, and a velvet pillow instead of your flat-as-a-board, handmade one.

Dream walked among the dark and the cold and filled it with your fondest smell from childhood. He had no flesh or muscle, a being of pure bone cloaked in the greens of seafoam, the pinks of twilight, and the yellows of gold.

An eternal warmth flowed from him, calming the shakiest voice and stilling the throbs of your pulse to a steady and relaxed rhythm. He glided to your bedside in golden boots and cast one sympathetic look at the draggled sheets before pulling them back to their rightful place, careful not to disturb you as he did so.

Dream hummed a soft melody with the earnest compassion of a parent soothing their child. It was quiet to keep you asleep but distinct enough to spread the snug blanket of security over your thoughts.

The taut lines of veins bulging along your neck and forehead, the ball of pain swelling in your jaw, and the shaky curls of your fingers bunching handfuls of the sheets all started to wane. When you were sinking into your first minute of genuine rest in ages, the mood in the room dove faster than a flightless bird over the side of a cliff.

It was a plunge so steep and abyssal that you cried out at some ghastly vision while Dream staggered as if one wrong footfall away from falling. He recovered in a moment of resigned understanding of what lay behind him, but many more seconds passed before he found the strength to turn and confront the corrupted shell of his brother.

Dream saw the thrill of malice rush onto Nightmare's face as your sounds of distress rang and tilted his head down, hardening his frown. In the privacy of the gloom, Nightmare glowered at Dream with an eye that blazed against the black sludge streaming o'er him.

“Well, always here to spoil my fun, aren't you, brother?” Temptation and menace intertwined in his voice, honeyed and gravelly at once. It snaked through the crisp air and commanded awe with the booming richness of a king, and it burrowed into the back of the mind as whispers beguiling lost souls into letting loose all vices.

The visceral rage with which he spat the word “brother” so contorted his face that all sleeping mortals who looked upon it would have awoken screaming. Around his pupil expanded a vast sea of black, aglow with a fervour that dulled when Dream marched to the end of the bed and stood between him and you.

Nightmare collapsed his exaggerated snarl into a more subdued look of amusement, as though the idea that Dream could block his path was the peak of wishful thinking.

Dream, his eyes never wavering lest a moment's hesitation allowed Nightmare to slink near, swung his hand to the side and swished his lustrous cape. The threat of a golden bow sparked in his open palm, a sight that twisted the corners of Nightmare's mouth like a gulp of sour milk.

“You poisoned their grief, Nightmare. They need to heal.” Dream uttered this sentiment with unflinching certainty and gave to it a sublime voice meant to lighten the spirit of all who heard it; however, to the blackened soul residing in Nightmare, it only starved him.

He fixed a spiteful grin on Dream and widened his eye until it resembled a pit. “They don't want to heal. They're tired.” The venomous spiel rolled from him as it would a demonic salesman, and had you been awake to listen, you would have believed him. “They want to be told it's okay to give up.”

Dream glanced over his shoulder at your tussle with imaginary tormentors, his narrowed eyes pierced with a gleam of pity. He could have implored his brother to make an exception, but asking Nightmare to leave a cry for help untroubled was like the gazelle begging the lion for mercy.

Instead, he was readying another point of argument when an instinctive sweep of his arm deflected the sharp tip of a slender tentacle hurtling towards his skull.

Nightmare retracted the tentacle through a strip of moonlight, allowing it to glisten and weave before disappearing. The faraway ticktock of a clock stressed the passing of each second, baiting an attack from either brother and counting down to the moment when noise so bloodcurdling would rip the air asunder and forever banish peace from the area.

All at once, you sprung to an upright position and wailed as if you might never have the chance again. Your eyes, open wide but seeing nothing, held a glassiness that contrasted with your mindless thrashing at a hidden assailant. You began to hyperventilate between shouts for someone to get out of your house, and the guardian in Dream took hold as he hurried over to stop you from tumbling out of bed.

Before he could land one final step to reach you, a tentacle swooped down and knocked him into the chest of drawers across the room. It clattered and overturned a lamp atop it, which smacked the wood and threatened to roll off the edge. Dream cracked open one eye before the other and unhooked himself from the metallic handles.

Under the wan cover of night, Nightmare appeared to slide over the floorboards like some amorphous blob of black and blue. He eclipsed the moon on your weeping face, his tentacles bobbing on invisible waters and casting writhing shadows upon the wall behind you.

His head snapped towards Dream's weakened but defiant stance, and as flecks of silver silhouetted much of his body, his teeth were distorted into fangs that shone through the ooze cascading down him. A twinge of fear skittered the length of Dream's spine; the creature before him was his brother in name only, having become drunk on your anguish and consumed by a sort of eldritch savagery.

With each shriek rocketing out of you, Nightmare dispersed further into the darkness and outpoured his evil into every crevice. He propelled himself onto a tentacled throne and towered above Dream, who sensed the cold and aching drain of his presence in all directions and scoured for even a fleeting whiff of positive emotion.

The air stood still when Dream glimpsed the needle-like tentacles poised around him in the dark. They awaited a silent order to volley forward and gore him, an order made imminent by the resonant chime of the clock striking a new hour. Against his collarbone sat the round clasp of his cape, which he clutched with one hand overlaying the other.

Dream shut his eyes, tucked his chin into the back of his hand, and visualised a portal to the nearest spark of happiness. A blinding surge of starlight enveloped him, then vanished moments before a tentacle speared the chest of drawers in a shot that would have run through his rib cage.

Nightmare deflated a bit, disappointment gnawing at him that he did not get to see his brother's golden blood splatter the hardwood floor. He yanked his tentacle free of the unlucky drawer, paying no mind to the sizeable hole it had created, and resumed basking in your sorrow like a lizard in the sun.

* * *

A hulking weight sat on your chest, and with every swell of breath you forced down, it sucked half of it back out of your lungs. You might as well have been a pair of eyes without a body, with the absolute numbness coursing through your limbs begging the question of whether they were still attached.

The darkness crept a little closer, bottomless and braver with each sweep of your eye. Waves of black and splotches of silver melded into a gaunt face dripping wet. Malevolence seeped from the monstrous entity pouring out of the unknown depths of that corner, the kind that threw babies into crying fits and ripped frantic barks from every dog in a neighbourhood.

The snowy radiance of a moon free to dominate the sky glinted across teeth whiter than any dentist could hope. They filled out a lipless mouth as the entity, a living nightmare, engulfed the floor and ceiling in an ever-growing current of blackness. His jaw unhinged far beyond the limits of nature to yield a gaping hole lined with vertical strips of muck, each as dark and slippery as a jagged rock hanging in a damp cavern.

A dozen tentacles snaked out his back and pulsated outward, their slender lengths draped in inky slime. He loomed over your paralyzed state and dredged up all memories of fear and pain until your heart thundered with the desire to burst out of you. The sheets tucked in tighter to the point of constriction, and tears brimmed for the silent scream wrenching around your mind.

The place where his right eye should have been was overflowing with tar, and his left eye glowed like the beam of a lighthouse. Turquoise with a tinge of midnight blue watched your struggle and revelled in it with the passion of a vindictive god.

To peer into his eye was to lose yourself down a tunnel that winded through every facet of despair, hatred and horror, to behold a creature who embodied it all and realise you could do nothing but wait. Such a gaze crushed you, and it never even had to touch you.

Periodic buzzes, beginning as a foghorn but then rising to a metallic trill, came and went every few seconds. They invaded the room with an unquenchable urgency that your brain raced to identify, shrilling louder and louder until your body jolted forward in an abrupt return of control.

You inhaled as if having swum from the deep of a lake, but instead of bouncing your forehead off the warped skull, you passed through nothing but clear space. The instant before your eyes began darting, the flicker of a figure dissolved into a patch of darkness in your peripheral vision.

The first rays of dawn shimmered across the hardwood floor and dappled the shadows with all the colours of fire. A clash of pinkish and gilt swirls subsumed much of the dark, delivering you from the trenches of a receding night to the peach-tinted embrace of a day starting anew.

The jarring call of a telephone poked your ears and vibrated on a round table in the corridor.

Following you to the bedroom doorway was the impulse to ignore that plea for your attention and continue languishing beneath the same old sheets. The ease with which you could lay back down and slip away from everything tapped you on the shoulder and beckoned you to sleep.

Dust bunnies wafted after your feet, which you heaved and then slammed down again a mite closer to the ringing as if wading through the reeds of a billabong. A slew of thoughts on the taxing demands of holding a conversation, on the dreadful risk of exposing how badly you were drowning, tugged at you like an impatient child.

When you picked up the cooling metal of that telephone, the voice of a dear friend hit you as a refreshing breeze on a hot day. They talked to you and listened even if you let out a sombre remark or stumbled over familiar words, a nearly forgotten sound, like a song unheard for years. Eventually, they said, “How about lunch at your favourite place today? My treat.”

You hugged the cord with each finger of one hand, and with the other hand, you pressed the cradle to your abdomen. A dab of moisture started to blur your vision, enabling you to take a breath without the air of heartsickness that had milled around the home for so long.

Watching you lean into the handset, into that faint voice daring to help, and allow yourself the ghost of a smile was like acid on Nightmare's eye. The frenzy of hunger stabbed him as the intoxicating taste of misery, a minute ago so bountiful, was evaporating.

What rapture it would be, twining one of his tentacles around that interloper's neck and squeezing until they never spoke another word. The vision of their bulgy eyes reddening as they clawed at the tentacle in vain, forced to look him squarely in the face and give every detail of their agony, to entreat his mercy only to be denied, flashed to him.

It kept him in the shadows and replayed before his mind's eye, each time seeming nearer to reality, to soothe the roaring emptiness in his stomach.

#Yandere #Yandere x You #Yandere x Reader #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Scenarios #Yandere Undertale #Yandere Sans #Undertale x Reader #Sans x Reader #Nightmare Sans x Reader #Nightmare Sans #Nightmare!Sans #Dreamtale Nightmare #Dreamtale #Underverse #UTMV #Undertale AU #Undertale #UTAU #Sans #Sans AU #Imagines #Monster x Reader #Yandere Monster #Cosmic Horror #Reader Insert #Gender Neutral Reader #Fanfiction #X Reader #Yandere Writing

[undertale-writing-times]

Is it possible to have the yandere prompt "I'm madly in love with you!!" with Nightmare?

I just think it'd be interesting if he tried to deny that he had these "pure" feelings - said feelings are more corrupt than pure - for a human, and that he eventually just snaps and finally succumbs to what he actually wants; them. He is a King and a God of negative emotions, so of course he will take this human for his own. Why shouldn't he indulge himself and claim what he desires?

Here we go! I hope you like this ^^ I thought it turned out interesting.

Nightmare had a problem.

A thing that he would never want to admit, not even to himself. It was something that always appeared in the back of his mind, and he hated the fact that it did.

He had a crush on someone.

At first, he really had no idea what the feelings were. He thought that it was just interest! He really did but then his body started to feel weird whenever the person was around. It felt like he needed to be near them.

Nightmare really thought that they did something to him, did something to make his body feel the way that it did, and he thought about killing them so he wouldn't have to feel those weird feelings anymore but, for once, he decided to wait... wait and watch.

That was a while ago, and now he knew what the feelings he felt were.

He loved them.

He was in love with a human, a soft and squishy creature. He knew that most humans were dark creatures, they spread negativity and hated even their own kind for stupid reasons.

So many people hated each other for the people that they love, their skin color, or even where they were born! It was idiotic but it gave him a lot of negative feelings, so it was good for that at least.

Y/n was someone that lived in one of the AUs that Nightmare had been watching, one that he thought at first about stealing from and leaving for dead but then he saw them, and it was like his body wanted to be near them. The feeling startled him, and he closed the portal so he wouldn't have to see that and tried to calm down.

After that, he started to look at the world more often. He would lie and say that he was waiting for a good time for them to go but pick other places and just watch that one.

He was fairly sure that his underlings thought he just enjoyed watching that one, like how Error watched this one that was... Spanish, he thinks?

Whatever, he didn't care about that.

Nightmare tried his best to ignore the feelings. He tried to focus on other things but each and every day, he would look at Y/n, and fall harder and harder for them. He hated seeing them talk to other people, he hated seeing them with others. Those people didn't deserve to be even remotely close to them.

Y/n deserved so much, and he believed that he would be the only one to be able to do that for them! They would be so happy with him, right? He wouldn't allow them to feel any negative emotions, he would be able to take them away... and they'd be happy, right?

Finally, after almost... two years of watching them, he figured out what he should do. He took his boys to the AU, telling them to go crazy and to get everything that they needed and left to go get Y/n.

He was sure that the rest of his group would be able to handle this, it wasn't like they could fail, right? They better not fail. He would not be proud of them, if they did.

He could hear people shouting and running away, most likely one of his underlings attacked a random person... they often did whenever he told them to go crazy. Best to do in their mind, if he ever wanted to be sneaky, he would just take Error and Killer the other two aren't the best for being... sneaky.

As he was walking, the sounds around him were a little annoying... he looked around, humming softly under his breath, he knew that Y/n would be here. They always worked at this place around that time... he saw them peeking around a corner, making him smile and he moves his tentacles quickly, wrapping around them and lifting them off the ground.

They start to shout so he moves his tentacle to cover their mouth "Ah ah, it would be best for you, if you did not scream. I don't like loud sounds, myself" He pulls them over looking up at them, studying them humming softly. "You're even more beautiful in person..." he mumbles to himself, mostly.

Against their best judgement, he noticed the fact that their cheeks flushed at that, causing him to laugh softly. Aww... isn't that cute?

He reaches up, touching their cheek then lets his fingers drift down to their chin. "I would hate to have to hurt you, you're so breath taking to me. I think you'd be happy to be mine, wouldn't you? It isn't like the others would be able to treat you as well as I can"

They try to say something around the tentacle over their mouth, kicking their legs at him so he rolls his eye and wraps the other tentacle around their legs and starts to walk. "I never thought I would ever feel this way for anyone... let alone a human." he pulls them closer to himself, looking at them with a relaxed smile, tracing his finger along their jaw, "I'm madly in love with you, it seems..." they shiver at his touch.

Once he and his underlings left that AU, and got back to his own world, he walked to one of the rooms and set Y/n in there. "There are clothes in the closet for you, I would love for you to wear them. Get comfortable, I tried to get everything I thought you would enjoy" and closed the door, locking it then he left to go and tell his underlings about Y/n.

They already saw them, of course, but they had no idea who this random human was. He, honestly, was quite happy to explain that Y/n was his datemate and the newest queen of the multiverse.

If they ever lash out at him, or tell him that they don't want to be in this world anymore, that they miss people back where they came from? He's going to get quite angry himself. Why would they even want to go back there?! He's been treating them so well! He will tell them that everything he's done for them, they should be happy he did it.

He could have easily killed them, break them.

If they ever try to run away, or leave his castle, he wouldn't really care. There's no way that they could leave the area around the castle, this world was empty other than his castle but, honestly, the idea of them running away fills him with rage and once he sends one of his underlings to get them back, he'll punish them. Either a few days without food, or something of that sort. Depending on how annoyed he is with them, is how bad the punishment will be and who he will send for them.

#Nightmare #Nightmare Sans #Dreamtale #Dreamtale Nightmare #Nightmare X Reader #Reader X Nightmare #utmv #undertale au #utmv au #undertale multiverse #undertale imagines #undertale alternate universe #undertale ask blog #undertale alternate timeline #Yandere #Yandere Fanfic #Yandere Imagine #yandere x reader #tw yandere #tw: toxic relationships #tw: manipulation

[chocolatte-and-despair]

What if nightmare’s S/O got in a fight and had bruises and if nightmare did ask questions who did it to them then his S/O says

“Why do you care?it’s not like you care about nothing I have been doing.”

What would nightmares reaction be to that?

Nightmare Sans

A loud sound would echo through the room, as you would realize that Nightmare had just hit you. A cold look is present on both of your faces, as you spit out some blood on the ground.

"Watch your tongue, before I cut it off. You know, I will." Nightmare's calm threat was enough for you to unconsciously take a step back, as he repeated his previous questions, demanding answers.

Nightmare was cold, uncaring, and unloving. To him, you were his property, and someone damaged his property. It was only natural that he would go and demand payment for the trouble.

"Now, let me ask you again, pet"

"Who."

"Did."

"It?"

#yandere undertale imagines #yandere imagines #undertale imagines #yandere undertale headcanons #yandere headcanons #undertale headcanons #yandere undertale #yandere #nightmare sans #yandere nightmare sans

[look-a-yandere-fandom-blog]

Yandere! Nightmare Sans Concept

Fandom: Dreamtale / Undertale Multiverse.

No Spoilers.

Character Version: Corrupted Nightmare.

_________________________________

TW: Stalking, yandere behaviour, kinda gaslighting (like it has that vibe but I don’t know if there’s a more specific term to describe this).

(If there’s anything else I need to add please let me know).

_________________________________

Stupid Yandere Nightmare concept but-

If he were to stalk his darling, wouldn’t he try to make them aware of his presence?

Like not enough so they’re face to face with him. But enough that they know something is off even if they’re not sure what.

He’d make his darling question their own perception. Question if the shadows in the corner of their vision were there the moment before. Make them question if they really saw a figure slip behind their bedroom door. Make them question if they truly heard a quiet, distorted, chuckle as they climbed into bed or if they were simply tired. Questioning. Questioning. Questioning…

The paranoia and uncertainty this’d instil in his darling would only encourage Nightmare. Fear is such a delicious thing to taste, and his darling’s is the most euphoric flavour he can get his hands on.

Alongside this, it’d give him a feeling of control. He has this much influence over their life and they hadn’t even met him? That’d be both a high and an ego boost.

Maybe he’d see it as a challenge or some kind of game: how far could he go before his darling realised that it’s not all in their head?

Anyways, this is gonna be the only yandere-related thing I think about for the next week, so expect a one shot or something XD

#yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #tw yandere #yandere blog #male yandere #nightmare sans #yandere nightmare sans #yandere nightmare #dreamtale #nightmare x reader

[3nergy-spirit]

Hello there, may I request something?

Some yandere nightmare and horror (seperate) would be nice to read in your writing style

Have a good night/day

ok ! ^^

DNI IF UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS TOPIC.

Yandere Horror/Nightmare (Seperate) X Reader

hearing the slight tap of footsteps grave your attention, the clicks of fire can be heard as you hide underneath a desk in a dark corridor filled with shadows, the only thing filling your gaze is darkness and tiny lights from the fire, revealing some mess on the floor as the room was abandoned. you had a slight view of the door. you could hear a tiny, muffled, knock, but not on your door.

"y/n. get out. now."

it sounded just like nightmare, that dark, raspy, echoy voice.

before around 5 seconds, you could hear the sound of wood breaking as some wood chips flew under the door from tthe room you were in.

he had broken the door from that room as you heard the sounds of footsteps echo..before leaving.

you sighed as you rested a hand gently on your chest, feeling the thumps of your heart grace your hand and inside your ears as you stared directly at the door still.

next, you heard the footsteps come back. going towards your door you saw the shadows of slippers. through your door.

before then, he did not knock this time, a blast of wood chips and the door broke and flew to the wall, causing you to flinch from the noise of that burst.

he walked into the room, turning to where you were, did he see you? or did he sense your emotions?

he walked through the bed to a straight line and then stopping right around where you were, the sound of his slippers sliding on the ground before the desk was flipped over, revealing your presence as you saw a glowing turquoise eye and a cheshire grin stare into yours.

"found you."

you hide inside the kitchen cabinet, crouched and crowded, your legs getting sore from this uncomfortable pose, you hear the tapping of shoes on wooden floors and the swinging of a hatchet, a grumbling, raspy, mumble echoing in that hall. the TV was staticed and hardly working as light buzzzing rang through it, your heart pounding into your ears as you slow your breath to not be hitched in anyway to give off your presence.

the monster then swings it's hatchet into the kitchen, you can hear from the suprised rapid noise coming from as the trash can wabbles making metallic hitting sounds on the ground before stopping. the monster begins to walk towards the noise, to get its hatchet and you hear the creaking of wood against the broken wooden floors, before then you hear a tiny grumble as the silence enrages as the muffling noises of the TV grow lower..and lower..

you hear the sound of boney phalanges clawing your cabinets front as you try to push back more further onto the wall. the noise of shuffling of some cleaning supplies rumble through your closed hiding spot.

you hear the monster let out a "hm" as it stops clawing the cabinet, you hear a tiny chuckle before they open the cabinet, revealing yourself to a glowing crimson-red eye and a big persian grin in dimly lit lights.

"well, look what i found."

#undertale #utau #undertale au #horror sans #horrortale #dreamtale #nightmare sans #nightmare sans x reader #undertale yandere x reader #horror sans x reader

[dracoxirex]

cross x Yandere nightmare

''Ah Cross~..I don't think Dream is now an impediment for you to love me..."

#dracoxirex #traditional art #fanart #undertale #sans #cross sans #crossmare #nightmare sans #sancest #yandere #au #underverse fanart #colored pencil #gay #underverse au #ship #nightcross #Yandere!nightmare #dream sans

[ycewa]

*places down silly Dream!tale au and proceeds to info dump*

OK- so

The main thing that’s changed in this AU is that Nightmares bully’s go missing after a while and Dream is completely dismissive about it even though they were his ‘friends’

After a while Nightmare is bullied again by some other kids because they think Nightmare had something to do with the other kid’s disappearance, anyways those kids go missing too and then a loop of new bullies that go missing happens until the Village is like ‘ok bro, we’re gonna have to get rid of the problem here’ and go mob mode on Nightmare (causing the apple incident)

During the apple incident Dream is gobsmacked that all those kids going missing would cause this to happen (aka he was killing the kids-) and realizes that he might have messed up by keeping the village alive

(then he turns into a statue for 500yrs and Nightmare forms the Bad Sanses or whatever they’re called)

Dream breaks out of the statue and goes to hunt Nightmare down but finds Ink instead, which causes them to form the Star Sanses (and recruit Swap)

When Dream finds out Nightmare is the ‘bad guy’ he is fighting he almost immediately becomes a traitor to the Stars and feeds Nightmare important info when they fight one on one (which greatly confuses Nightmare into thinking his brother is an idiot)

and that’s mostly it for now

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