Others Writing - Blog Posts

OOO I LOVE THIS, I’M SO SORRY FOR THE LATE REBLOG, IT COMPLETELY SLIPPED MY MIND. I LOVE HOW YOU SHOWED LIU ER’S FRUSTRATIONS AND XIOATAIN’S BITTERNESS  

Eye For an Eye Au

Au by @lorddoodle

The night had started out just fine, Macaque had managed to grab some extra food for him tonight. Xiaotian started from inside the metal prison. His half blind stare held little hope and Macaque still shivered under the sight of the blind eye. The conversation continued on but Xiaotian had a question he knew he shouldn't ask  "Why did you try to kill the tang monk? You were friends with Wukong so why would you want to kill him?"

"Are you sure you wanna hear that? It's a long gory story" Macaque said. Xiaotian knew that the black furred monkey was going to tell him the story even if he tried to change the topic. 

"Yeah," Xiaotian said with a sigh "it's not like I got much else to do" 

Xiaotian heard Macaque snort "No you certainly don't kid," Macaque took a breath and turned himself so he only half faced Xiaotian ``We were best friends once, ya know that? We were so close, practically inseparable. I still remember the day he burst in and told me and the generals and the other marshel about how he had erased our names and the names of any other monkeys he could find, how we were freed from death itself." 

A small sad laugh came from Macaque along with tears not that either of them would mention. "That was centuries ago. When Wukong challenged heaven we stood behind him and when All the other monkeys ran I did my best to stay until General Ba forced me to retreat, I still remember what they said to me 'it's okay to be brave but a good warrior knows when to put their weapon down, our king can handle this" Macaque sighed again "They kept telling me he'd be okay and back then when my fur was still white as the snow, I believed them. Soon enough our home was burned, I was burned, my fur turned to its present ashy state" a long sigh came from Macaque “I missed him alot when he was under that damned mountain" his voice shook and Xiaotian watched with a look of empathy in a way he could understand, he misses his best friends and his Dads' and his mentor. When the thought hit him he tried to push it down but there was only so much he could do, but did his friends feel like Macaque would they fear him after this too? However Macaque continued on " when I had ground Wukong again I watched as my King was called 'Bad Monkey' by that monk." Macaque spat the words out like venom, yet continued on telling the tragic tale of how his best friend left him in the dust which caused Xiaotian to feel anxious.

 Honest to heaven Xiaotian couldn't help it the way he knew the story and with how much he had changed since that happened, would Xiaojiao feel the same way Macaque did? By the celestial realm he hoped not. 

Xiaotian listened as Macaque spun the tale telling a whole new side. "Macaque," Xiaotian interrupted again, "why did you want to hurt me? Why are you taking mercy on me? I'm your enemy aren't I?" His blind golden eye gleamed in the light. 

"You and me? We're in the same spot, not much either of us can do about that? Besides, where's the kid I fought all those months ago? Where's the kid who I help train? Don't ask those kinda questions, especially not the ones you have the answers to" 

Xiaotian growled of course Macaque would be vague with it, Wukong was so why wouldn't his former Marshall be too. "I don't understand what you're getting at!" He yelled in frustration "You're just like Wukong when it comes to this stuff 'ya know that, overly vague!"  If it weren't for the comparison to the monkey that ruined his life Macaque would have congratulated the kid for getting back to his normal self. "You spin your story in self pity for once I would like an honest straight up answer!" 

Macaque growled as the air around the two turned hostile "oh yeah?!" Macaque muttered in an angry voice. 

"Yes! You spin in self pity telling me your tragedy. I just want an answer 'I thought he was hurting my former friend' would have been sufficient!" Xiaotian couldn't explain the random burst of anger but it felt good to get it out so he wasn't gonna stop. "You ignore that I'm just barely an adult! I'm only 20 years old!" 

Macaque was beyond pissed at this point "Oh Yeah kid?!" His glamor started to fade revaling scars along his face and body. "Well you're not the only one with scars kid" Macaque's glamor entirely faded revealing nasty scars across Macaque's face as if he had been held down and someone tried to dig his eye out. "At least you had a clean cut!" The large monkey snarled, then turned sharply walking away with his tail angrily swishing.

The Origami Princess

(Hello and welcome back to @flashfictionfridayofficial​! This prompt was a nice jumping point to actually get around to writing this lil story lol)

There. All settled?

Uh-huh. Can you tell the story about the Origami Princess again?

The Origami Princess? Alright.

Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there was a princess who lived alone in a tower. Now, for the most part, she was a very normal princess. Even her circumstances for being in the tower were normal, as it was a long-standing tradition upheld by generations of princesses before her. But this princess had a special gift she kept hidden away: she could breath life into the origami she created. She spent her time in the tower creating a menagerie of paper animals to keep her company while she waited for her 20th birthday.

But little did the princess know that her life was about to change one stormy night.

Keep reading

nanowrimo!!

I can’t promise that I’ll finish Nano, but I’ll at least start, and that’s what matters.

Anyway, I’m doing nano!! I’m @ diwrite if you’d like to add me as a writing buddy! :D

Here’s my project is dumbasses in a sedan (working title), a new adult mystery w a mlm romance ! Below is a brief description:

Five days and 2,500 miles after his father’s disappearance, Cameron’s car breaks down. He’d been following a trail of clues and hasty assumptions that led him right to Bluehorn City, a crumbling ghost town in northwestern Arizona. But now he’s out of money, out of gas, and out of ideas, and the more he uncovers about his dad, the less sure he is of who the man was. Now, Cameron has to figure out what’s so special about Bluehorn. Maybe special isn’t quite the word for it; the town’s sitting on a secret, and at the center of it all is Andy, an auto mechanic with a chunk missing from his memory. Andy offers Cameron a deal: Cameron helps Andy solve his own mystery, and Andy fixes Cameron’s car for free. What else is there to do, with no car and no idea where to go next? Cameron accepts. Little do either of them know just what they’ll uncover.

as always, the plot/genre/everything is subject to change because I’m ~indecisive~, but I’m pretty happy with this so far !!! 

This is the first time I've reblogged something (if it bothers you, let me know) (　´∀｀)

I really like the way you write, your descriptions, the way you just poke at our emotions to make us cry like them and the way you see the characters. I felt really bad for them, knowing that after seven years they hadn't managed to move on ヘ(￣ω￣ヘ)

Making a deal with Error is a good idea, but it can also be double-edged. He can keep his side of the bargain until Ink is a thing of the past, but after that? Would he attack Aim because he's an anomaly and because of his abilities? Will he get attached to the child in his own way? And will Nightmare even risk his nephew's life knowing what he means to him? And how will Dream and Killer react to Error's surprise visit ꒰(@｀꒳´)꒱

I can't wait to find out what answers you have to offer (of course, if that's your aim) (=ↀωↀ=)✧

There is the English version at the beginning and the French version afterwards •w•

The Post Dark Cream Comic and Aim belongs to @zu-is-here (and it's also thanks to her that you can read this story XD)

𓆩☬𓆪

The sound of a music box began to be heard in a distorted way, drowned out by the shores of the awakening. When the boy stretched, he tried to remember the melody. Where had he heard it? And who was that dark figure who had suddenly vanished into his dream?

He got out of bed, walking quietly towards the living room where Dream was, who had already started to prepare breakfast. Cross was still sleeping, taking advantage of this Saturday morning to sleep in. 

The little one helped his father take the cups and the bowl he gave him, being too high for him, before putting them on the table. He sat quietly at the table, before starting to put milk in his bowl, while the positive one went to wake up his husband. 

They both came back into the room, his father's eyes still clouded with sleep and calmly holding his soul mate, having still managed to trap him with his arms. Dream smiled, touched by this gesture he received from his husband every weekend. 

He managed to free himself from his hold by sitting down quietly. Cross, before sitting down, kissed his son's forehead, wishing him good morning. They ate lunch in good spirits, as usual.

Then, as he did every weekend, the little skeleton got ready to see his uncle. He looked in the small library in the living room for his favourite book. It was the only one that had been made by hand and his father had already told him that his uncle had made it. 

He loved its hardback cover covered with a layer of blue leather, where a huge apple tree was engraved. Some of the apples were completely engraved while others had only the outline defined. On the corners furthest apart, the leather was tinged with yellow at the top and purple at the bottom. Silver corners were attached to each edge of the book, representing a moon and a sun. He knew that the book was called The Power of Feeling, because his uncle told him every time, he read it. 

He grabbed it, and then went into the kitchen, taking two small chocolate bars as usual. He checked that he hadn't forgotten anything before opening the door and greeting his parents. Cross said to him: 

“You be careful going in.”

“I promise, have a good day.”

They said the same before he closed the door. He went as usual to the playground, where he always waited for his uncle. He liked to have fun here, and sometimes Killer would come and play with him too, but he left quickly after Nightmare arrived.

He walked over to the swing before sitting down, putting the book on his lap. He began to swing quietly, being careful not to knock the book off by going too fast. He stopped abruptly when he heard an unfamiliar voice behind him asking if he was expecting his uncle. 

He turned to answer him when he saw his face: a skeleton with pastel pupils and a paintbrush with an ink stain on his cheek. The skeleton his parents had always told him to watch out for. He remained silent, not knowing what to do.

“...You're very quiet. I thought you'd be more talkative than that. You must get that from Cross, he was never really talkative at first. But after we became friends, he was more so.”

“Are you a friend of Dad's?”

“Yes, although I'm more Dream's friend. We've known each other for a long time, and we've had many adventures together. He even bailed me out a few times.”

“Really, it's so cool!”

“But then your parents met, and I never really saw them again... But they never told you about it?”

In the face of Aim's silence, Ink added:

“They never showed you where they declared their love? If you want, I can take you there. It's a place full of so many memories.”

“But Uncle Mare-”

“Nightmare already knows this place; he'll join us when he gets here and doesn't see us. Don't you trust your parents' friends?”

Deep inside, his instincts were screaming at him no, reminding him of their warning. But on the other hand, he knew his uncle and fathers and was a friend of theirs, so he could trust him...? And his uncle knew this place too.

He took the taller boy's hand before the latter combed the ground with his brush, then jumped into the puddle, dragging the child with him. They found themselves in a wooded area, the smell of pine trees could be felt. The snow covered them gently, giving the place a fresh feel.

Ink began to walk through the forest, followed by Aim who marvelled at the place. It reminded him of the woods where he and his parents used to go in the winter. They would have fun skating on the frozen lake that hid in his place, having a snowball fight where his papa would watch them, before starting to have fun with them after taking a snowball on his shoulder because of his dad, and they would end their day all at home over hot chocolate. Maybe he would see a place like that here, and he could go with his parents, that would be nice. 

He was about to tell the other skeleton about it when this feeling, or rather lack of feeling, crept into his mind. It was strange, but usually he felt like he knew when someone was doing well or not, like a hunch. It had always been the case, yet when faced with this stranger he felt nothing, and unconsciously it twisted his stomach slightly, chilled his bones, without him really knowing why. 

Inwardly he tried to find a reason for this exception, as the trees around them became less and less numerous. Buildings began to appear in the distance. Aim, seeing this, wondered who they would find. If this was where his parents had declared their love, then surely, he would meet friends of theirs.

The excitement of seeing more of his parents' friends was short-lived when he saw that the buildings were in ruins. Some had their facades ripped open, others had their roofs and probably their interiors collapsed. Others had only broken windows, and the only ones that had no apparent damage made the atmosphere strangely even heavier. A ghost town, that was the vision before their eyes. 

Aim's bad feeling resurfaced, even more powerful than before. How could his parents have decided to declare themselves in a ruined place? What could have happened here? He pulled the book tighter to his chest, becoming slightly alarmed by the scene before them. He stammered: 

“Sir... Are you sure Uncle Mare will find us here? He was waiting for us in the playground, he might get worried if he doesn't find us, and it's not inhabited here at all, he might not find us.”

“Do you know who destroyed this place,” asked the protector, his back still turned to the boy.

“...No...”

“It was your uncle with Killer, to try to show Cross that he could never be happy, and also because of his betrayal and escape.”

“You're lying! Uncle Mare and Killer would never do that!”

“You seem to like them, maybe that's a good thing... But know kid that I never lie.”

As he said his last sentence, he turned around completely, his pastel pupils and his slight smile had given way to a face devoid of all emotion. He crouched down facing the child, before declaring: 

“What follows is simple: I ask for your help, you accept and after you have helped me, I will take you back to your parents, no one knows.”

“Help with what?

“You just have to use your power over me, you know the one that can change emotions.”

“Dad and Papa said that's a power that can hurt people, and that you shouldn't use it.”

“And why not?”

“They said that by using this power, people can get hurt because they wouldn't know if they really liked us. They said that it is more important that they like us for who we really are, than by lying to them and changing something so precious.”

Ink thought for a moment before saying:

“I won't mind you using your power on me, on the contrary. I have no soul; I can't feel emotions like others. But if you used it, I could be normal.”

“Don't you have a soul? But my power only works when people already have feelings.”

“How can you be so sure when you haven't even tried,” he asked in a colder voice.

“My power is used to change the emotions of others, to rewrite them. If they don't exist, I can't change them.”

“So, you can't help me... I don't see why I should do what I told you then.”

The atmosphere was becoming frightening. Ink's voice and face was like that of a cruel psychopath in frightening nightmares, and the quiet of the place seemed to become oppressive. The boy took a step back, shaking more and more.

“You're scaring me.”

“Scared? I'm just asking you to help me. Your parents never taught you to be nice,” Ink said as he grabbed Aim's arm, dropping the book he was holding.

A Gaster Blaster appeared beside him before firing at the other skeleton. At the same time, the boy's soul turned blue, throwing him into his dad's arms. He boiled with rage and anguish, his eyes now only two blood-red pupils.

The latter was about to use his knife to teleport with his son when Ink created ink bones which he hurled at them. Cross smashed them with his weapon before setting Aim down beside the tree behind him. He would have preferred to get his son to safety before starting this fight, but Ink prevented him from actually doing so.

So, he turned his knife into two daggers and teleported behind the protector, trying to slice him by surprise. Ink dodged before hitting him with a brush, knocking him back a few feet.

Even though the monochrome had failed to hit him, he was slightly pleased that the fight was taking place away from where his child was. He sent bones at his opponent, who liquefied, before resurfacing next to him and trying to summon a Gaster Blaster. Cross gave him no time, sending his leg slamming into his stomach, smashing it against the tree behind him.

Ink coughed from the impact of the tree and also from the kick. Even though they were skeletons and didn't have stomachs or diaphragms, their magic reacted as if they did, and they really didn't appreciate that kind of blow. He lay down on the ground to dodge the Gaster Blaster shot that Cross had just fired, which destroyed and burned the plant and those behind it.

Then he grabbed his brush which he had dropped before creating a wall of ink to protect himself from a volley of bones. This separation disappeared after his opponent sliced it with his daggers, coming closer to him. To keep him away, he created several rows of bones before landing on a low tree branch near Cross.

Black tears began to fall from Cross's eyes, showing his growing negative feelings to the point of overflowing. 

“I haven't seen your face like that for years,” Ink added. “The last time was the day I paid you and Dream a little surprise visit. I didn't expect to see you with a baby, but what surprised me most that day was that your child had this power. Honestly, we could have a lot of fun, and thanks to him, I could have feelings like the others again. You can do that for your friend.”

“You're not my friend, you're just a skeleton who has become obsessed with something he doesn't have and never will. Because of your madness, you put Aim in danger that day and you just did it again today.”

“... In danger... I didn't do anything wrong... I took him to a place that is important to you, I told him everything that happened here, and I kindly asked him to help me. There's nothing wrong with that. On reflection, maybe I should have been more radical... But I can always make it right.”

Three Gaster Blasters appeared in front of the boy, startling him and his father. Before the shots were fired, they heard the AU protector speak his words like a death sentence:

“If Error can create new things when he is repulsed by it and our agreement still stood at that time, then I may as well do the same. I'll never be forgotten again, even if it means going from good guy to bad guy protector.”

“AIM!!!”

Cross was too far away from Aim to get there in time, so he made a giant wall of bones to protect him. He didn't have time to reassure himself that he was okay or even make another move, as Ink had already launched a bone attack. He had let his guard down, desperate to save his son, and before he could even protect himself, bones had embedded themselves in his torso, several touching his soul.

His purple blood began to stain his white top, and to run from the corners of his mouth, before falling to the ground. Two shrill cries rang out at that moment: Aim's, who had moved away from the half-destroyed wall to reassure his father, and Dream's. He was teleported to his son in spite of himself, thanks to his husband. The latter had arrived in his place after sensing his soul mate's overly negative feelings. But he had arrived too late to protect him from the treacherous attack that Ink had launched against him.

Dream held him in his arms on his knees, his eyes flooded with tears, trying to use his healing magic on him. But the wounds on his soul were too numerous for him to do so. Aim rushed towards them, seeing with horror the gaping holes in his father's torso, his breath choked and his soul cracking from the damage it had taken. 

He searched his pockets, trying to find the chocolate bars he had taken a few hours earlier. He had taken two, but he was unable to find them. His hands were shaking, and his tears were appearing more and more, blurring his vision. He searched desperately before realising that they were not where he had put them. 

He had probably dropped them without noticing, then he remembered the playground, that moment when they had jumped into the gate. Surely that was when he had lost them. After all, he had been careful not to drop and damage the book, but he hadn't checked for the chocolate bars. 

“Dad...”

Aim didn't know what to say or do. His father was starting to crumble, and he didn't know how to save him. To reassure him, Cross pulled him closer to him, before giving him a kiss on the forehead, as he used to doing.

Then he put his hand on his husband's cheek, trying to remove the tears that were running down with his thumb, even though new ones appeared right after. He tried with difficulty to take a steady breath before saying: 

“I'm sorry, I let my guard down again. I couldn't protect you anymore... Don't cry... I've always preferred it when you smile... I wish I could keep seeing you smile and laugh...”

His husband tried to put on a smile, but it looked more like a forced grimace distorted by sadness. Cross stood up slightly before placing a final kiss on his soul mate's teeth. 

“You are my two rays of sunshine...”

He had spoken his words with the last of his strength, before disappearing entirely into a pile of dust. His son looked down at his remains, his tears growing more and more uncontrollable. His eyesight was blurred and he couldn't see what was around him, except for the dust as his tears fell.

Dream, on the other hand, stared into space before screaming at the assassin. His scream was filled with rage and hatred, changing to a promise of death as his voice became different, dark, corrupt. 

Bones cracked as tentacles ripped through the back of his jumper, moving uncontrollably like snakes preparing to bite their prey. Black liquid began to cover him, devouring his blind eye again, making it disappear.

Before he left to take his revenge, he saw the look in his son's eyes that was mixed with sadness, fear and horror. He didn't know if it was due to his appearance, which he considered hideous, or because he was afraid of simply losing his papa, but that look made him even more angry at the painter. Because of him, he had lost his husband, but he had also had to traumatize his child with his appearance. 

Nightmare and Killer arrived shortly afterwards, to see Dream in his corrupted form lashing out at Ink's inert and almost completely destroyed body, while Aim cried at a pile of dust. The two skeletons had quickly guessed who he belonged to by the scene before them. 

The negative one moved towards his brother to stop him, but Killer stopped him by holding his arm, feeling only angst at the scene before them.

“I need you to take Aim and get out of here, while I calm Dream down,” he announced, pulling his arm free of the other skeleton's grip. 

“No, you'll get killed. I-”

“Because you think you can do it? Take Aim and leave! That's an order,” he shouted.

The tearful man looked at him in despair, wanting to say something more. He knew that Nightmare was right and that he was just wasting time, but he couldn't help the fear that was eating away at his stomach. It was Cross who had managed to bring Dream to his senses, not Nightmare, so how could he be sure he would? He shook off his worries, confidently thinking that surely, he was the only one now who could do it. Then he walked over to the boy, before picking him up and teleporting into the boy's room. 

The negative began to rush towards his brother, getting between him and Ink, dodging the tentacles that struck in the protector's direction. He caught him in his arms, trying to block his movements. 

“Calm down, you can't kill him, he's immortal like us. Think of Aim and calm down!”

The attacks stopped, and his tentacles collapsed as if they were empty of energy. He dropped to his knees, his brother following his fall, still holding him in his arms. He turned his eyes and saw his husband's dust. If he had arrived earlier, he could have saved him, he would still be here. This sentence kept coming back in his mind, hammering him with blows, driving the nail of remorse even deeper.

Tears began to flow down his cheeks, creating ever larger wakes. He returned his brother's embrace, holding his coat as if it were the last thing, the last hope he could hold on to. His sobs were almost the only sound to be heard in this charred and destroyed world.

His soul froze, twisted, and felt as if it would crack and shatter at any moment. How he wished at that moment that it had. He would no longer feel that pain in his chest, that vice in his throat. He would like to join him, but he couldn't, and never would. It was one of the few privileges that was taken away from him.

The crackling of the flames was muted by the pain of the desperate cries that the positive was now throwing into the void, tearing at the same time at his brother's heart.

It was one of the few moments when the negative felt so helpless in the face of his younger brother's pain. What could he say, what could he do to heal his broken heart, except wait and show his presence and support through a simple hug. Only time would soften his grieving soul and they both knew it, but at the time it was hard to take.

All this pain and sorrow was preventing him from returning to his normal form. He didn't want to scare his son; he didn't want him to see him like that again. So, between his uncontrollable sobs, he stammered:

“I don't want to show myself to Aim like this.”

“Take your time,” his brother added in a calm voice.

Meanwhile, the boy was crying in Killer's arms, unable to get the image of his dad turning to dust out of his mind. It wasn't possible, his father had always been strong, he couldn't die like that. He would probably come back and say it was a joke, his papa would scold him for it, and to make up for it he would hug him, as always. As always, he would walk quietly out the door. He was coming back! He would come back... right?

He knew in his soul that reality was not what he wanted to see. He knew what fate had befallen his father, he had seen it with his own eyes, but he could not accept it. Or rather he didn't want to accept it. 

“Dad will come back, right? He's coming home,” the boy whined between sobs.

“It'll be okay,” Killer reassured him. 

It was the only sentence he repeated softly, as if he only knew that one, which was becoming more and more meaningless with its relentless repetition. He rubbed his back to soothe him. He kept a mask of calm to reassure the little one and not to show his feelings, even if his molten heart gave him away.

Aim slowly calmed down. He wished so much that time would wind up like a simple stopped music box. It was then that he asked Killer if he could rest, to wake up from this cruel bad dream, which the taller man accepted. Before going to sleep, he left his room, followed by Killer who did not understand why he was leaving.

The little skeleton walked through the house towards his parents' room. He entered the room and saw that it was in the same state as it was in the beginning, tidy, the bed still made in the same way, the wardrobe still closed, the sunlight partly filtered by the curtains almost entirely open. 

It was like an unchanged vestige of time, a vestige that reminded him of that happy time he spent with his parents. He kept hoping that it was a nightmare, so that he could wake up and hug his fathers again.

He walked over to Cross's bedside table, picking up the slightly cracked heart-shaped locket that lay on it. He had seen it once and simply asked what it was. He remembered the image as he opened it and turned a small mechanism inside, making the soft sound of a music box playing Always with me.

He remembered the wistful look on his father's face, before he calmly told him that this jewel was very important to him, and that he would rather leave it safe than risk it being damaged even more than it was by wearing it. He remembered that his father had not said who the people drawn with him were, nor the meaning of the word written above it, and he had preferred not to ask him.

He hadn't touched it again, not wanting to risk breaking something precious to one of his parents. But now he just wanted to have it so he wouldn't feel like he was breaking himself like a fragile object. Or maybe he just wanted something that belonged to him so that he would feel like it was still near him. 

He took it in his hand, tangling the golden chain between his knuckles. Killer said nothing, understanding that the smaller boy was trying to hold on to something that would remind him of Cross. Nevertheless, when the boy returned to his room, he said softly: 

“Kiddo, if you need me, I'll be right here in the living room. Dream and Nightmare should be back soon, I'll wait for them.”

“Will you stay with me? I'd like one more hug.”

The teary-eyed man agreed, sitting down on the bed with his back against the wall before taking him in his arms. Aim, for his part, had abandoned his Rubik's Cube, which he used whenever he felt bad. Instead, he opened the locket and activated the mechanism, which instantly pierced the silence with the soft crystalline notes of the lullaby. 

He stayed there, listening quietly, thinking of nothing but the hope of waking up from this nightmare. He closed his eyes, letting himself be carried away by the sound of the lullaby and the sleep. A tear rolled down his cheek, before falling onto the taller man's shirt as the last note of the song was heard, leaving them to be engulfed again by the morbid silence.

It was also at this point that Killer silently broke down, shattering the mask that had been forged on his face earlier, unable to hold back his tears and grief at the death of his friend. 

𓆩☬𓆪

Le son d'une boîte à musique commença à se faire entendre de manière distordu, noyé par les rives du réveil. Lorsque le petit s’étira, il essaya de se souvenir de cette mélodie. Où l'avait-il bien entendu ? Et qui était cette silhouette sombre qui s'était soudainement évaporé dans son rêve ?

Il sortit de son lit, se dirigeant tranquillement vers le salon où se trouvé Dream, qui avais déjà commencé à préparer le petit-déjeuner. Cross quant à lui, dormait toujours, profitant de ce samedi matin pour faire la grasse matinée.

Le petit aida son papa prenant les tasses puis le bol qu’il lui donnait, étant trop haut pour lui, avant de les poser sur la table. Il s’assit tranquillement à table, avant de commencer à verser du lait dans son bol, pendant que le positif allait réveiller son mari.

Ils revinrent tout deux dans la pièce, son père ayant les yeux encore embrumés de sommeil et tenant calmement son âme-sœur, ayant encore réussi à l’emprisonner avec ses bras. Dream sourit, attendri par ce geste qu’il recevait de son mari chaque week-end.

Il réussit à se libérer de son emprise en s’asseyant tranquillement. Cross, avant de s’assoir à son tour, fis un bisou sur le front de son fils, lui souhaitant bonjour. Ils déjeunèrent dans la bonne humeur, comme d'habitude.

Puis comme chaque week-end, le petit squelette se prépara pour voir son oncle. Il chercha dans la petite bibliothèque du salon son livre préféré. C’était le seul qui avais été fait à la main et son papa lui avait déjà avouer que c’était son oncle qui l’avait fabriqué.

Il aimait énormément sa couverture cartonnée recouverte d’une couche de cuir bleutée, où un immense pommier y était gravé. Ses pommes étaient pour certaines entièrement gravée tandis que d’autre n’avais que le contour défini. Sur les coins les plus éloignés l’un de l’autre, le cuir se teintait de jaune en haut et de violet en bas. Des coins en argent était accrocher sur chaque bord du livre et représentait une lune et un soleil. Il savait que ce livre s’appelait La force des sentiments, grâce à son oncle qui lui disais à chaque fois qu’il le lisait.

Il l’attrapa, et se dirigea ensuite dans la cuisine, prenant deux petites barres chocolatées comme à son habitude. Il vérifia qu’il n’oubliait rien avant d’ouvrir la porte en saluant ses parents. Cross lui dit :

—Tu fais attention en y allant.

—Promis, bonne journée.

Ils lui répondirent la même chose avant qu’il ne ferme la porte. Il partit comme à son habitude vers l’aire de jeu, où il attendait toujours son oncle. Il aimait beaucoup s’amuser ici, et parfois, Killer venait aussi jouer avec lui, mais il partait rapidement après que Nightmare soit arrivé.

Il s’approcha de la balançoire avant de s’assoir, posant le livre sur ses genoux. Il commença à se balancer tranquillement, faisant attention à ne pas faire tomber le livre en allant trop vite. Il s’arrêta brusquement lorsqu’il entendit une voix inconnue derrière lui demandant s’il attendait son oncle.

Il se retourna pour lui répondre lorsqu’il vit son visage : un squelette aux pupilles pastel accompagné d’un pinceau et ayant une tache d’encre sur la joue. Le squelette dont ses parents lui ont toujours dit de se méfier. Il resta muet, ne sachant pas trop quoi faire.

—…Tu es bien silencieux. Je pensais que tu serais plus bavard que ça. Tu dois sûrement tenir ça de Cross, il n'a jamais été vraiment bavard au début. Mais après qu’on soit devenu ami il l’était plus.

—Vous êtes un ami de Dad ?

—Oui, même si je suis plus l’ami de Dream. On se connait depuis longtemps, et on a vécu beaucoup d’aventures ensemble. Il m’a même déjà tiré d’affaire plusieurs fois.

—Vraiment, c’est trop cool !

—Mais après tes parents se sont rencontré, et je ne les ai plus vraiment revus... Mais ils ne t’en ont jamais parlé ?

Devant le silence de Aim, Ink ajouta :

—Ils ne t’ont jamais montré où se sont déclaré leur amour ? Si tu veux, je peux t’y amener. C’est un endroit chargé de tellement de souvenirs.

—Mais Oncle Mare-

—Nightmare connais déjà cet endroit, il nous rejoindra quand il arrivera et qu’il ne nous verra pas ici. Tu ne fais pas confiance aux amis de tes parents ?

Au plus profond de lui, son instinct lui criait non, lui rappelant leur mise en garde. Mais d’un autre coté il connaissait son oncle et ses pères et était un ami d’eux, alors il pouvait lui faire confiance... ? Et son oncle connaissait aussi ce lieu.

Il prit la main du plus grand avant que ce dernier peigne le sol avec son pinceau, sautant ensuite dans cette flaque en entrainant l’enfant avec lui. Ils se retrouvèrent dans un lieu boisé, l’odeur des pins se faisait ressentir. La neige les recouvrés doucement, rendant une sensation de frai à ce lieu.

Ink commença à marcher dans la forêt, suivit de Aim qui s’émerveillé devant les lieux. Ça lui faisait penser au bois ou ses parents et lui avaient l’habitude d’aller l’hiver. Ils s’amusaient à patiner sur le lac gelé qui se dissimuler dans ses lieux, à faire une bataille de boules de neiges où son papa les regarder, avant de commencer à s’amuser avec eux après avoir pris une boule de neige sur l’épaule à cause de son père, et ils finissaient leur journée chez eux tous autour d’un chocolat chaud. Peut-être qu’il verrait un lieu comme ça ici, et qu’il pourrait y aller avec ses parents, ce serait bien.

Il allait en parler à l’autre squelette quand cette sensation, ou plutôt cette absence de sensation s’immisça dans son esprit. C’était étrange, mais d’habitude il avait l’impression de savoir quand quelqu’un allait bien ou mal, un peu comme une intuition. Ça avait toujours été le cas, pourtant face à cet étranger il ne ressentait rien, et inconsciemment ça lui tordait légèrement l’estomac, lui glaçait les os, sans qu’il ne sache vraiment pourquoi.

Il essaya de trouver intérieurement une raison à cette exception, lorsque les arbres autour d’eux devenait de moins en moins nombreux. Des bâtiments commençaient à apparaître au loin. Aim en voyant ça, se demanda qui ils allaient trouver. Si c’était ici que ses parents avaient déclaré leur amour, alors il rencontrera sûrement des amis à eux.

Cette excitation de voir d’autres amis de ses parents fut de courte durée, lorsque qu’il vit que les bâtiments étaient en ruines. Certains avait leurs façades d’éventré, d’autre le toit et surement l’intérieur d’effondrer. D’autres encore n’avait que les fenêtres de brisés, et les seules qui n’avait aucun dégât apparent rendais bizarrement l’ambiance encore plus pesante. Une ville fantôme, voilà la vision qui était devant leur yeux.

Le mauvais pressentiment de Aim refit surface, encore plus puissant qu’avant. Comment ses parents auraient pu décider de se déclarer dans un endroit en ruines ? Qu'avait-il bien pus se passer ici ? Il resserra le livre sur son torse, devenant légèrement inquiet par les lieux devant eux. Il bredouilla :

—Monsieur... Vous êtes sûr qu’Oncle Mare va nous trouver ici ? Il nous attendait dans l’air de jeu, il risque de s’inquiétait s’il ne nous trouve pas, et ça n’est pas du tout habité ici, il risque de ne pas nous trouvé.

—Sais-tu qui a détruit ce lieu, demanda le protecteur toujours le dos tourné vers le petit.

—…Non…

—C'est ton oncle avec Killer, pour essayer de montrer à Cross qu’il ne pourrait jamais être heureux, et aussi à cause de sa trahison et de sa fuite.

—Vous mentez ! Oncle Mare et Killer ne feraient jamais ça !

—Tu sembles les aimé, c'est peut-être une bonne chose… Mais sache petit que je ne mens jamais.

En prononçant sa dernière phrase, il se retourna entièrement, ses pupilles pastel et son léger sourire de façade avaient laisser place à un visage vide de toutes émotions. Il s’accroupi face à l’enfant, avant de déclarer :

—Ce qui va suivre est simple : Je te demande de l'aide, tu acceptes et après que tu m'es aidé, je te ramène à tes parents ni vu, ni connu.

—De l'aide pour quoi ?

—Tu as juste à utiliser ton pouvoir sur moi, tu sais celui qui peut modifier les émotions.

—Papa et Dad ont dit que c'est un pouvoir qui peut blesser les gens, et qu'il fallait surtout pas l’utiliser.

—Et pourquoi donc ?

—Ils ont dit qu’en utilisant ce pouvoir, les personnes peuvent se sentir blesser parce qu’ils ne pourraient pas savoir s’ils nous apprécient vraiment. Ils ont dit qu'il faut plutôt qu'ils nous aiment pour ce qu'on est vraiment, qu’en leur mentant et en leur changeant quelques chose d'aussi précieux.

Ink réfléchis quelques instants avant de dire :

—Je ne prendrai pas mal que tu utilises ton pouvoir sur moi, au contraire. Je n'ai pas d’âme, je ne peux pas ressentir des émotions comme les autres. Mais si tu l’utilisais, je pourrais être normal.

—Vous n'avez pas d’âme ? Mais mon pouvoir ne fonctionne que lorsque des personnes ont déjà des sentiments.

—Comment tu peux en être si sûr alors que tu n'as même pas essayé, demanda-t-il d'une voix plus froide.

—Mon pouvoir sert à modifier les émotions des autres, à les réécrire. S’ils n'existent pas, je ne peux pas les changer.

—Alors, tu ne peux pas m’aider... Je ne vois pas pourquoi je ferais ce que je t'ai dit alors.

L'ambiance devenait angoissante. La voix et le visage de Ink était semblable à celle d'un cruel psychopathe dans des cauchemars effrayants, et le calme des lieux semblait devenir oppressant. Le petit recula d'un pas, tremblant de plus en plus.

—Vous me faites peur.

—Peur ? Je te demande juste de m'aider. Tes parents ne t’ont jamais appris à être gentil, déclara Ink en attrapant le bras de Aim, faisant tomber le livre qu'il tenait.

Un Gaster Blaster apparu à côté de ce dernier avant de tirer sur l'autre squelette. Au même moment, l’âme du petit vira au bleu, le projetant dans les bras de son père. Celui-ci bouillonnait de rage et d'angoisse, ses yeux n’étant plus que deux pupilles rouge sang.

Ce dernier allait utiliser son couteau pour se téléporter avec son fils lorsque Ink créa des os d’encre qu’il projeta sur eux. Cross les brisa avec son arme avant de poser Aim à côté de l’arbre derrière lui. Il aurait préféré mettre son fils à l’abri avant d’entamer ce combat, mais Ink l’empêcher de véritablement le faire.

Alors il transforma son couteau en deux dagues et se téléporta derrière le protecteur, essayant de le trancher par surprise. Ink esquiva avant de lui asséner un coup de pinceau, le faisant reculer de quelques mètres.

Même si le monochrome n’avais pas réussi à le toucher, il était légèrement satisfait que le combat se déroulais loin de là où était son enfant. Il envoya des os sur son adversaire, qui se liquéfia, avant de resurgir à côté de lui et d’essayer d’invoquer un Gaster Blaster. Cross ne lui laissa pas le temps, envoyant sa jambe frapper son ventre, le fracassant contre l’arbre derrière lui.

Ink toussa dû au choc contre l’arbre mais aussi dû au coup de pied. Même si c’était des squelettes et qu’ils n’avaient pas d’estomac ni de diaphragmes, leur magie réagissait comme s’ils en avais, et elles n’apprécié vraiment pas ce genre de coup. Il se coucha au sol pour esquiver le tir de Gaster Blaster que venait de tirer Cross, qui détruisit et brûla le végétal et ceux qui se trouver derrière.

Puis il attrapa son pinceau qu’il avait fait tomber avant de créer un mur d’encre pour se protéger d’une salve d’os. Cette séparation disparue après que son adversaire la trancha avec ses dagues, se rapprochant de lui. Pour l’éloigner de lui, il créa plusieurs rangés d’os avant de se poser sur une branche basse d’un arbre, proche de Cross.

Des larmes noires commençaient à couler des yeux de ce dernier, montrant ses sentiments négatifs de plus en plus important, au point de déborder.

—Ça fais des années que je n’avais pas vu ton visage comme ça, ajouta Ink. La dernière fois, ça a été le jour où je vous ai rendus une petite visite surprise à toi et Dream. Je ne m’attendais pas à vous voir avec un bébé, mais ce qui m’a le plus surpris ce jour-là, ça a été que ton enfant est ce pouvoir. Franchement, on pourrait bien s’amuser, et grâce à lui, je pourrais de nouveau ressentir des sentiments comme les autres. Tu peux bien faire ça pour ton ami.

—Tu n’es pas mon ami, tu es juste un squelette qui est devenu obsédé par une chose qu’il n’a pas et n’aura jamais. À cause de ta folie, tu as mis ce jour-là Aim en danger et tu viens encore de le faire aujourd’hui.

—… En danger... Je n’ai pourtant rien fait de mal... Je l’ai amené dans un lieu important pour vous, je lui ai dit tous ce qui c’était passé ici, et je lui ai gentiment demander de m’aider. Il n’y a rien de mal. En y réfléchissant, peut-être que j’aurai dû être plus radical... Mais je peux toujours rectifier le coup.

Trois Gaster Blasters apparurent devant le petit, le surprenant ainsi que son père. Avant que les coups soient tirés, ils entendirent le protecteur des AU prononcé ses mots comme une sentence de mort :

—Si Error peut créer de nouvelles choses alors qu’il est répugné par ça et que notre accord tenait toujours à ce moment-là, alors je peux tout aussi bien faire pareil. Je ne serais plus jamais oublié, même si ça signifie passer du gentil au méchant protecteur.

—AIM !!!

Cross était trop loin de Aim pour arriver à temps, alors il fit un gigantesque mur d’os pour le protéger. Il n’eut pas le temps de se rassurer qu’il aller bien ou même de faire un autre mouvement, que Ink avait déjà lancé une attaque d’os. Il avait baissé sa garde voulant à tout prix sauver son fils, et avant même qu’il puisse se protéger, des os s’étaient planté dans son torse, plusieurs touchant son âme.

Son sang violet commença à teintait son haut blanc, et à couler des commissures de sa bouche, avant de tomber au sol. Deux cris stridents retentir à ce moment-là : celui de Aim qui s’était décalé du mur à moitié détruit pour rassurer son père, et Dream. Il fut téléporté vers son fils malgré lui, grâce à son mari. Ce dernier était arrivé dans ses lieux après avoir sentis les sentiments trop négatifs de son âme-sœur. Mais il était arrivé trop tard pour le protéger de l’attaque traître que lui avais lancé Ink.

Dream le tenait dans les bras à genoux, ses yeux inondés de larmes, essayant d’utiliser sa magie de soins sur lui. Mais les blessures sur son âme étaient trop importantes pour qu’il y arrive. Aim se précipita vers eux, voyant avec horreur les trous béants qui parsemés le torse de son père, son souffle haché et son âme qui craqueler à cause des dégâts trop importante qu’elle s’était prise.

Il chercha dans ses poches, essayant de retrouver les barres chocolatées qu'il avait pris quelques heures plus tôt. Il en avait pris deux, mais il était incapable de les retrouver. Ses mains tremblaient, et ses larmes apparaissaient de plus en plus, brouillant sa vision. Il chercha désespérément avant de réaliser qu’elles n’étaient pas là où il les avait mises.

Il les avait sûrement fais tomber sans s’en apercevoir, puis il se rappela de l’aire de jeu, ce moment où ils avaient sauté dans le portail. C’était sûrement à ce moment-là qu’il les avait perdus. Après tout, il avait fait attention à ne pas faire tomber et abimé le livre, mais il n’avait pas vérifié pour les barres chocolatées.

—Dad...

Aim ne savait pas quoi dire ou quoi faire. Son père commençait à partir en poussière, et il ne savait pas comment le sauver. Pour le rassurer, ce dernier le rapprocha de lui, avant de lui faire un bisou sur le front comme il avait l’habitude de le faire.

Puis il posa sa main sur la joue de son mari, essayant d’enlever les larmes qui coulaient avec son pouce, même si de nouvelles apparaissait juste après. Il tentait difficilement de prendre une respiration régulière avant de lui dire :

—Je suis désolé, j’ai encore baissé ma garde. Je ne pourrais plus vous protéger... Ne pleurez pas... J’ai toujours préféré quand vous souriez... J’aimerais tellement pouvoir continuer de vous voir sourire et rire...

Son mari essaya d’afficher un sourire, mais ce dernier ressemblait plus à une grimace forcée et déformé par la tristesse. Cross se releva légèrement avant de déposer un dernier baisé sur les dents de son âme-sœur.

—Vous êtes mes deux rayons de soleil...

Il avait prononcé ses mots avec les dernières forces qu’il lui resté, avant de disparaître entièrement dans un amas de poussières. Son fils regarda ses restes, ses larmes devenaient de plus en plus incontrôlables. Sa vue se troublait et il ne voyait pas ce qui l’entourer, à part les poussières lorsque ses larmes tombaient.

Dream quant à lui regarder dans le vague avant de hurler en regardant l’assassin. Son cri était rempli de rage et de haine, se modifiant en une promesse de mort en même temps que sa voix devenait différente, sombre, corrompu.

Des craquements d’os se firent entendre lorsque des tentacules déchirèrent le dos de son pull, bougeant de manière incontrôlable, comme des serpents se préparant à mordre leur proie. Du liquide noir commença à le recouvrir, dévorant à nouveau son œil aveugle, le faisant disparaitre.

Avant qu’il ne parte pour assouvir sa vengeance, il croisa le regard de son fils qui était mélanger de tristesse, de peur et d’horreur. Il ne savait pas si c’était dû à son apparence qu’il jugeait hideuse, ou parce qu’il avait peur de tout simplement perdre son papa, mais ce regard l’énerva encore plus contre le peintre. À cause de lui, il avait perdu son mari, mais il avait aussi dû traumatiser son enfant par son aspect.

Nightmare et Killer arrivèrent peu de temps après, pour voir Dream dans sa forme corrompu s’acharné sur le corps inerte et presque entièrement détruit de Ink, tandis qu’Aim pleuré devant un tas de poussière. Les deux squelettes avaient rapidement deviné à qui il appartenait vu la scène qui s’offraient à leurs yeux.

Le négatif se dirigea vers son frère pour l’arrêter, mais Killer l'en empêcha en lui tenant le bras, ressentant que de l’angoisse face à la scène qui se déroulait devant eux.

—Il faut que tu prennes Aim et tu partes d’ici, pendant que je calme Dream, annonça-il en dégageant son bras de l’emprise de l’autre squelette.

—Non, tu risques de te faire tuer. Je-

—Parce que tu penses que tu peux le faire ? Prends Aim et pars ! C’est un ordre, hurla-t-il.

Le larmoyant le regarda désespérer, voulant rajouter quelque chose. Il savait que Nightmare avait raison et qu'il perdait juste du temps, mais il ne pouvait s’empêcher d’avoir une peur qui lui dévorer le ventre. C’était Cross qui avait réussi à ramener Dream à la raison, pas Nightmare, alors comment être sûr qu’il y arrivera ? Il se débarrassa de ses inquiétudes, en pensant avec confiance que c’était sûrement le seul maintenant à pouvoir le faire. Il se dirigea ensuite vers le petit, avant de le prendre dans les bras, puis se téléporta dans la chambre de ce dernier.

Le négatif commença à se précipiter vers son frère, se mettant entre lui et Ink, esquivant les tentacules qui frapper dans la direction du protecteur. Il l’attrapa dans les bras, essayant de le bloquer dans ses mouvements.

—Calme-toi, tu ne peux pas le tuer, il est immortel comme nous. Pense à Aim et calme-toi !

Les attaques s’arrêtèrent, et ses tentacules s’affaissèrent comme s’ils devenaient vide d’énergie. Il se laissa tomber sur ses genoux, son frère suivit sa chute, le tenant toujours dans ses bras. Il tourna les yeux et vit les poussières de son mari. S’il était arrivé plus tôt, il aurait pu le sauver, il serait encore là. Cette phrase revenait en boucle dans son esprit, le martelant de coup, enfonçant le clou des remords encore plus profondément.

Des larmes commencèrent à couler le long de ses joues, créant des sillages de plus en plus imposants. Il rendit l’étreinte à son frère, tenant son manteau comme s'il était la dernière chose, le dernier espoir sur lequel il pouvait se raccrocher. Ses sanglots était presque le seul bruit qui se faisait entendre dans ce monde calciné et détruit.

Son âme se glaçais, se tordais, lui donnais l’impression qu’elle allait se fissurer et se briser à tout moment. Comme il aurait aimé à cet instant que ce soit le cas. Il ne ressentirait plus cette douleur dans sa poitrine, cet étau dans sa gorge. Il aimerait le rejoindre, mais il ne pouvait pas, et ne pourrais jamais le faire. C’était un des rares privilèges qui lui était ôté.

Le crépitement des flammes se faisait discret face à la douleur des cris désespéré que lancer maintenant le positif dans le vide, déchirant au même instant le cœur de son frère.

Ce fut l’un des rares instants où le négatif se sentait aussi impuissant face à la douleur de son cadet. Que pouvait-il bien dire, que pouvait-il bien faire pour soigner son cœur brisé, à part attendre en montrant sa présence et son soutien à travers un simple câlin. Seul le temps adoucirait son âme en peine et ils le savaient tous deux, mais sur le moment c’était dur à encaisser.

Toutes cette peine et cette douleur l’empêchais de retrouver sa forme normale. Il ne voulait pas effrayer son fils, il ne voulait pas qu’il le voit comme ça de nouveau. Alors, entre ses sanglots incontrôlables, il bredouilla :

—Je ne veux pas me montrer à Aim comme ça.

—Prends tous ton temps, ajouta son frère d’une voix calme.

Pendant ce temps, le petit pleurait dans les bras de Killer, n’arrivant pas à enlever de son esprit l’image de son père qui se transformait en poussière. Ce n’était pas possible, son père avait toujours été fort, il ne pouvait pas mourir comme ça. Il allait surement revenir en disant que c’était une blague, son papa allait le gronder pour ça, et pour se faire pardonner, il lui ferait un câlin, comme toujours. Comme toujours, il allait passer le bas de la porte tranquillement. Il allait revenir ! Il allait revenir... non... ?

Il savait au fond de son âme que la réalité n’était pas ce qu’il voulait voir. Il savait quel destin avait eu son père, il l’avait vu de ses propres yeux, mais il ne pouvait pas l’accepter. Ou plutôt il ne voulait pas l’accepter.

—Dad va revenir, pas vrai ? Il va revenir à la maison, pleurnicha le petit entre deux sanglots.

—Ça va aller, le rassura Killer.

C'était la seule phrase qu’il répétait doucement, comme s’il ne connaissait que celle-là, qui se vidait de plus en plus de sens à force d’être inlassablement répétée. Il lui frotta le dos pour l’apaiser. Il garda un masque fais de calme pour rassurer le plus petit et ne pas montrer ses sentiments, même si son âme en cœur fondu le trahissait.

Aim se calma lentement. Il aurait tellement voulu que le temps se remonte comme une simple boite à musique arrêté. C’est à ce moment-là qu’il demanda à Killer s'il pouvait se reposer, pour se réveiller de ce cruel mauvais rêve, ce que le plus grand accepta. Avant de dormir, il partit de sa chambre, suivit de Killer qui ne comprenait pas pourquoi il partait.

Le petit squelette traversa la maison se dirigeant vers la chambre de ses parents. Il y rentra voyant la pièce dans le même état qu’elle était de base, rangée, le lit fait toujours de la même manière, l’armoire toujours fermée, les rayons du soleil qui était en parti tamisé par les rideaux presque entièrement ouvert.

Elle était comme un vestige inchangé du temps, un vestige qui lui rappelait ce temps heureux qu’il passait avec ses parents. Il espérait continuellement que ce soit un cauchemar, pour qu’il puisse se réveillait et serrait à nouveau ses pères dans ses bras.

Il se rapprocha de la table de chevet de Cross, prenant le médaillon en forme de cœur légèrement fêlé qui était posé dessus. Il l’avait vu un jour et avais simplement demandé ce que c’était. Il se souvenais de l’image quand il l’avait ouvert et actionné un petit mécanisme à l’intérieur, faisant retentir le son doux d’une boite à musique jouant Always with me.

Il se souvenais du regard mélancolique de son père, avant qu’il lui dise calmement que ce bijou était très important pour lui, et qu’il préférait le laisser en sécurité, que de risquer qu’il soit encore plus abimé qu’il ne l’était en le portant. Il se souvenais que son père n’avait pas dit qui été ses personnes dessinées avec lui, ni la signification du mot inscrit juste au-dessus, et il avait préféré ne pas le lui demander.

Il ne l’avait plus touché, ne voulant pas risquer de briser quelque chose de précieux aux yeux de l’un de ses parents. Mais maintenant, il voulait juste l’avoir pour ne pas avoir l’impression de se briser lui-même comme un objet fragile. Ou peut-être qu’il désiré simplement un objet qui lui appartenait pour avoir l’impression qu’il était toujours près de lui.

Il le prit dans la main, emmêlant la chaine dorée entre ses phalanges. Killer ne dis rien, comprenant que le plus petit essayer de se raccrocher à quelque chose qui lui rappeler la présence de Cross. Néanmoins, lorsque le petit retourna dans sa chambre, il lui dit doucement :

—Gamin, si tu as besoin je serais là dans le salon. Dream et Nightmare ne devrait pas tarder à rentrer, je vais les attendre.

—Est-ce que tu veux bien rester avec moi ? J’aimerais bien encore avoir un câlin.

Le larmoyant accepta, s’assit sur le lit, le dos appuyé contre le mur avant de le prendre dans les bras. Aim, quant à lui, avait délaisser son Rubik’s Cube qu’il utilisait pourtant à chaque fois qu’il se sentait mal. Au lieu de ça, il ouvrit le médaillon et activa le mécanisme, qui perça instantanément le silence avec les douces notes cristallines de la berceuse.

Il resta ainsi, l’écoutant calmement, ne pensant à rien d’autre qu’à l’espoir de se réveiller de ce cauchemar. Il ferma les yeux, se laissant emporter par le son de la berceuse et le sommeil. Une larme roula sur sa joue, avant de tomber sur le T-shirt du plus grand au même instant que la dernière note de la chanson se fit entendre, les laissant se faire engloutir de nouveau par le silence morbide.

Ce fus également à ce moment que Killer craqua silencieusement, brisant le masque qui s’était forgé sur le visage un peu plus tôt, n’arrivant plus à retenir ses larmes et sa peine face à la mort de son ami.

You think the world would love you better without your holy edges, without your bleeding wounds and unsightly want. You think the world would love you better but it's just the world.

The grass is soft and holds the ants and parasites and wolves. The wind is gentle and topples mountains the same as it steals breathe. The ocean remembers you, the sea consumes. You are not so tall and not so new.

You think the world would love you better but the world has eaten as much as it's given. the world’s great beauty is a mirror and an indifference to all your burning parts. the Sun is graceful. the Sun is deadly.

We inherit tragedy from hunger but the world would love you better no more, no less, than it will bare you. And it will, and it will.

The Throw and The Catch

“Hey, are you sure you’ll be alright out there?” Mars asks, his sad voice shaded with concern. Next to him is the Earth, with heavy bags under his eyes, the faded lines of tears still scratching on his surface like a broken tattoo. The Moon isn’t sure how that worked, but he also isn’t sure how sound even traveled in space, or how any of them were even sentient. So he supposes it didn’t really matter. 

A little less than an astronomical unit away are Venus and Mercury, talking with the Sun about what the Moon had informed them of. It’s strange watching them interact— usually Venus would be spitting insults at Mercury, and Mercury would fire back in his own defiant way, heading away and taking all the offense in stride. But now they were actually interacting like two normal beings, even if the conversation was stifled and tense. The looming threat of the moon revolution was obviously more important than whatever disagreement they had gotten themselves tangled up in now.

The Moon looks on towards the asteroid belt, a realm of gloomy dark rocks, as far as the eye can see. He remembers the last time he was here— of watching, terrified, as his fellow moons planned a coup against his best friend. He remembers dodging the asteroids, desperately launching them back, convincing Callisto to go on the right track, all while his Dark side snored in the back of his mind.

“I-I can go if you want.” Mars stammers, but the Moon refuses. Earth needed Mars right now, needed affirmation that they wouldn’t abandon him. As for Mercury and Venus, the Sun wouldn’t allow them to leave, and besides, they needed to devise a back-up plan anyways. 

“I’ll go.” The Moon states firmly, and before Mars could say another word, the Moon floated off into the asteroid belt, forcing down the panic that spiked in his core.

It’s fine. He thinks, as the sunlight behind him grew dimmer and dimmer, the warm pink fading off into the dark blue of space. I just need to get to Jupiter, and warn the gas giants about this whole thing. I just need to…

Then, something flies past him. 

What—

The Moon reels back, narrowly dodging a small, spiky asteroid. He looks up to see a figure in the distance, but it resembles either Phobos or Deimos more than Ceres, the only one who he was expecting.

“Hello!” The asteroid(?) grins, batting her eyes. “I’m Amalthea. A moon of Jupiter’s, or how he would like to call us, a prize.” She spits the last word with venom, and more pointed asteroids rise around to her. 

“Well I’ve seen you’ve returned, Earth’s Moon.” Europa greets, coming over, before letting out a bubbly laugh. Flanking her are more asteroids- or well, he assumes, more of Jupiter’s moons. “Pardon Amalthea, but she doesn’t take lightly to beings who betray us. But, if you join us, we’ll put that all in the past. I won’t even ask about your… disappearance.”

The Moon grits his teeth, trying to keep his thoughts steady. “If I could take Io and Callisto, I can definitely take you guys.”

Europa scowls, opening her mouth, but then—

“But are you sure you can take us?” Said a voice, familiar in all the wrong ways. 

The Moon turns around so fast he gives himself whiplash. Sure enough, floating in front of him was Ganymede, along with many other beings he didn’t recognize. 

“Aw, sweetheart, you always have the best timing.” Europa giggles, any sense of anger gone from her tone at the sight of the newcomer. 

“Of course I do.” Ganymede winks, before directing his attention to the Moon, his once flattered smile fading into a mean sneer. The Moon feels a sudden, overwhelming wave of dread. 

“Meet the moons of Saturn.” Ganymede grins. “Mimas,” the gray one with one eye beams, “Ba-Dione,” the one with a white streak on her surface rolls her eyes, “Ensalada,” the one with blue veins scoffs, but holds his tongue, “Iapetus,” the one with a white and brown surface looks on with a neutral expression, “and the rest!”

The remaining small moons glare at him, but stay silent.

“Y’know, since I’m nice,” Ganymede continues, “I’ll give you one last chance. Join us.”

The Moon’s gaze darts around the area, and he was sure that if he was an earthling, he’d be drowning in sweat. There was nothing around him, nothing but more and more moons all giving him silent stares. There was no one coming— Callisto and Titan were in who-knows-where, the inner planets were too busy doing their own thing, Ceres probably had enough sense not to intervene, and the gas giants had no reason to check the belt. Desperate, the Moon turns to the enemy, grasping at the straws.

I can do this. I convinced Callisto, I can—

“Do you really think what you’re doing is right?!” The Moon asks, his voice thankfully growing stronger with each word. “Going against the planets? The Sun?! And what do you even plan to do with the Earth? Kill him?!”

He sees Dione purse her lips, Enceladus glancing away, and something shifts in Iapetus’s eyes. He’s getting through them at least.

But then Ganymede laughs. “Do you take us for idiots? Of course we aren’t going to kill him. Make an example out of him, strip him of all his precious little Earthlings, sure, but no killing. And as for the Sun… we’re working on it.”

And instantly, all the moons nod, like robots.

“And what about you all?!” The Moon questions, trying to keep his voice measured, but there’s a pathetically obvious note of desperation in it. “Did you really just let him waltz over and persuade you? How do you even know he’s going to keep his word and not betray all of you?”

“Oh please.” Ganymede responds, his tone clipped and dark. “I’m not like you. I’m not a traitor. Now, I was aware that I gave you one last chance. And that sounded like a no.”

The Moon gulps, feeling fear overtake his core. The stares at him turn piercing, and he’s distantly aware of Amalthea raising her razor sharp asteroids and Saturn’s moons gathering some as well. Europa laughs sharply, and Ganymede’s mouth turns into another sneer. The fear is breaking the Moon’s resolve, and—

Light.

The Moon gasps, eyes widening. The cloudy fear breaks. The piercing stares turned… confused, almost, and—

Light.

Dark’s thoughts, excited and venomous, cuts through The Moon’s. Are they causing trouble for you?

The stares slowly turn piercing again, and Ganymede—

Yes. Please—!

Ganymede yells, “Knock him out!”

Immediately, asteroids are hurled towards the Moon at all sides. Dark flings themselves down, and the asteroids crash together, one of them going straight towards Ensalada.

“OW!” Ensalada yelps as the asteroid lands squarely below his eye. Ganymede tuts.

“You should know better than to try and fight back, Earth's moon. Don’t make this difficult for us.”

Oh, this is going to be fun.

Another barrage of asteroids heads towards the Moon like a solarflare. The Moon squeezes his eyes shut, giving reins to his counterpart. Instead of running, Dark turns and expertly evades each one, much to the other moons’ shock.

Europa frowns. “What the—

Dark smirks, widening his deep black eyes. The Moon wishes he could see the others’ reactions right now.

Dark cackles, each peal of laughter crisp and deadly. He brings the nearby asteroids around him with ease, forming a ring.

“What- what is with your eyes?!” Ganymede shouts, flabbergasted. 

“Well, the thing is, I’m not the Moon. At least, not the one you’re used to. I’m his Dark side.”

And Dark spins, the asteroids twirling and flying towards their opponents like bullets. Most of the other moons avoid them, but one hits Europa’s side, and another one slams into Ganymede’s cheek, eliciting twin yelps of pain. 

Dark laughs again, thrilled. 

“And here you thought beating us will be that easy.” He taunts, and Ganymede’s eyes light up with fury. 

“Attack him!” He shouts, and Dark forms a shield, blocking the asteroids coming at him easily. Some asteroids are thrown nastily towards his back, but the Moon handles that, deflecting every one. The two of them fight like a dance, completely synchronized in ways only two beings who existed together all their lives would. 

We should get out of here. Light thinks, as he shoves him and Dark back, dodging one of Iapetus’s asteroids, who’s still looking at him strangely. 

Oh come on. Dark whines in their head. We could beat them all easily. And I haven’t fought in forever…

No we can’t. Light scolds. You have too big of an ego. 

Ganymede screams a war cry, and an asteroid bruises the Moon’s side. Pain blossoms, and both Light and Dark wince. 

Maybe you’re right. Dark admits, But if we’re going to flee, we’re going to go out with a bang.

Wha—

Give me your strength. 

…fine. But I better not regret this. 

With their combined strength, Dark raises up at least a dozen asteroids, and they rise up behind him like a wave. 

The last thing Light sees before the asteroids come crashing down is Ganymede’s dropped jaw. The last thing he hears is Europa’s high-pitched shriek.

“Next time, don’t fight against someone when you don’t even know half of them!” Dark shouts victoriously as they flee away, fast as lightning. Within seconds the shouts of the other moons fade, and within minutes they tumble out of the belt.

That was—

Amazing! Can we do it again?!

The Moon groans, his- their entire body tired and covered in bruises. Seriously?!

The Way You Look Tonight

Chapter two • Enemies to lovers

Author’s note: I've re-read this chapter four times while editing, and it still creeps me out a little. Then again, I have a bit of a wild imagination.

Contents: MULTI-CHAPTER, Alucard (Hellsing)xfem!reader, eventual NSFW, written in 2nd person, relatively ambiguous time period but pre-2000s, reader and family members descriptions (other than clothes and personalities) are kept ambiguous for the sake of inclusion, ghost Alucard (kind of?), spooky stuff, Integra is dead and the Hellsing Organization has been dissolved.

3.2k words

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Within the week, the electricity had been fixed. You don't need to worry about your lamp's batteries corroding anymore when you put new ones in. Neither do you have to squint in the dim light of a single candle to see the dark shadow in the corner of your room. Now, with the small bulb chandelier in your room, there was no corner that light couldn't reach, even in the dead of night. That seemed to give you a newfound sense of confidence, which had previously been killed when your childhood fear of the dark was rekindled one week ago in the dining room. You still couldn't figure out what it was you’d run into. All the dining room chairs had cushions that were made of rough fabric. Not smooth and silky to the touch. Whatever it was… You knew what you felt. It was a person. There was no other excuse. And you weren't crazy. But you had no choice but to let the matter go. All the clues you might have gotten to there being something wrong with this place led you to nowhere. Your strange dream led you to the manor’s layout which led you to a cut-off page with the letter “D,” being your only tie to an answer. There was simply no logical explanation for the corroding batteries. You didn't even know what caused batteries to corrode other than time. Heat? That was impossible. The house had been freezing that night. You stick to your only answer, “D.” Or was it a “B?” The page had been cut off. Then were you right about a basement? If that was true, and there was a basement, then the previous owner really had something to hide if they cut it out of the building’s layout. The only thing left to do was check for a basement entrance. The problem with that plan was… that the only access to the lower level of the manor you had was the kitchen, the dining room, and the entertainment room. The rest was currently undergoing renovations. Water damage, rats, and other pests — that's what your father told you. If you wanted to get a look around without getting into trouble you’d have to go at night. Hell no. That spelled disaster. You’d read enough mystery horror books to know not to do that. So, with a mystery-hungry heart, you continued to help around the house while trying to forget your strange discoveries and just enjoy the place. 

You were currently helping your mother in the garden, which was admittedly beautiful. You couldn't imagine what it used to look like when it had a full team of gardeners. Great big hedges sparkling after being freshly watered in the morning, fountains running, the sound of splashing water adding to the chirping melody of the birds. That’s what you imagined at least. Right now, it was still a work in progress. You were responsible for taking care of the fountain. Which was more satisfying than you thought it would be. Scrubbing the dry algae off the emptied basins was rather therapeutic and took your mind off of the happenings. This was short-lived, however. As you straightened up and wiped a bead of sweat from your brow, you caught movement in one of the upper-story windows. Your window. You paused, setting down the hard-bristled brush for a moment. That couldn't be your brother… he wasn't… well- he wasn't that tall, to be honest. He was a teenager, and you towered a good five inches over your brother still. Whoever that was… 

“Is Dad fixing something in my room?” You turn your head for just a moment. Your mother looks up from the dirt she’d been packing in around some freshly planted flowers and gives you a confused glance. 

“No… why?” Her eyes drag up to your window. 

You turn your head again, about to point up at the figure in the window only to find you’ve been played a fool a second time. This felt similar to the dining room incident — in that it made you look crazy.

"I saw someone up there." You say, feeling uncomfortable. You turn your head again and see your mother's skeptical expression as she continues to look up at your window.

“I’m sure we would have noticed if someone we didn't know came into the house. It was probably just a shadow.” She turns back to the dirt and continues packing it around the flowers before moving on to the next. 

You're not as willing as your mother to give up the matter. Now, your job of scrubbing algae can't be over fast enough. When you finish, you don't even bother washing your hands. You take yourself up the stairs, a burn of annoyance giving you a burst of adrenaline that may or may not have been encouraged by it being broad daylight, and push your door open. It's empty. Exactly as you anticipated. But that doesn’t stop you from fixing the window with a glare, checking under your bed, and then fixing your hair before walking back to the door, where you turn, hold out the middle finger, and close the dor. Whatever… ghost… was messing with you... Well, it wasn't funny. Not that you believed in ghosts, of course.

Nonverbally saying “fuck you” to a ghost was clearly a bad idea. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but shortly afterward, the electricity was acting weird. Your brother had come down from his room for once to complain about how “this stupid house is busted”. His computer was apparently shutting off right when he was about to complete a level in his game. You even came up with your dad to watch it happen. Right when he was at the end of his level, the screen went black. Your dad checked the outlet, unplugged it, plugged it back in, and told your brother to give it another try. So with a sigh, your brother would reboot his computer and run the game. Same problem. It ended with your dad scratching his head and muttering about calling the electricity guys again. You, however, with your newfound skepticism, were positive that you’d pissed the house ghost off by giving it the finger. 

“It’s probably a ghost messing with you.” You’d told your bother.

“The ghost can go fuck off.” Was his grumbled response as he turned to his bookcase instead. 

You turned in after dinner, carrying a full glass of water up to your room to set on the bedside table, which had a gross crusty ring left over from the batteries. You’d tried to wipe it off the best you could but… the wood was ruined. The one thing you’d liked about candles or lamps was how easy it was to turn them off or blow them out and shove the covers up and over your head. A light switch? Not so much. Especially when the room felt like it… stretched… in the dark. You took a sip of your water before turning to shut off the light. Climbing into bed amidst the dark, you muttered to the ghost (which you half-believed in) to, “not be weird.”

That night, sleep seemed to escape you. Like standing too far away from the ocean on the shore. When you thought it might reach you… it dragged itself back. You had no memory of falling asleep… but when you woke… it was because a chorus of stringed instruments and deafening piano seemed to be searing into your ears as your world burst into color. Through your eyelids, you saw light and movement, shadows falling over your eyelids like sunspots through a tree. You open them with a gasp and find yourself standing in the middle of a ballroom. Confusion lapses you and you reach down to pinch your hand tightly to wake yourself up — which hurts. It's covered in a long, silk glove. None of the colors you wear seem to keep a constant. The shape of your dress — if you were wearing one, you're not sure —  and even the people around you never stay constant. They change form as they move with the waltz at a gallivanting pace around you. You try to follow them with your eyes — to make out what’s even happening around you — but the task feels impossible. Turning frantically, you catch an opening in the figures and run towards it, hoisting heavy skirts up (so it was a dress?). The space is quickly taken up by red. A deep, blood-red cloak, and a charcoal gray suit tucked beneath it. You’re too slow to stop yourself and crash into the figure. It was that fabric. Warm satin and the dull sound a human chest makes when it's beat against. You back up slower than you had the night you first encountered that feeling… and slowly look up at the only solid shape in this dream. Nothing about him changes or shifts. His colors do not even change in hue or tone. Red, charcoal, and black, black hair. You’re not quite sure if his hair is short or long. It seems to evade your memory somehow. But you know it's dark and unruly and frames his shadowed face in a wicked way as he grins down at you with a mouth full of teeth too sharp to be human. He feels far too real to be a part of your dream. Image stark and crisp compared to the fogginess of the others and even your own body. It feels like he towers over you. Proportions not quite right. You stagger back. Too slow. He surges unnaturally forward and takes up your hand with his gloved one, the other gripping your waist tightly. Too fast to gain footing, you're thrown into a waltz that you cannot keep up with. It's the same pace as the inconstant dancers around you. Spinning, spinning, you grip his shoulder with desperation as your hair whips against your face. As chaos unfolds, your feet clumsily stumble. Seeking solace, you bury your face into his chest, briefly capturing the aroma of copper and perfume. No warmth comes from him, despite how real he feels.

 The music picks up at an impossible pace. A pace no one could ever hope to properly waltz to… and you're spun even faster. Then, the music rises into a quick crescendo, and then the notes seem to… fall… as if they were falling off the very air. The song is ending too fast for your body to register… and all too soon, your dancer lets go of you. Your hand slips off his shoulder and the force of the awful, spinning waltz throws you cruelly to the floor in a flutter of skirts against the hard, hard surface beneath you. 

Your eyes shoot open and the silent dark of your room echoes around you. You’re on the floor, nowhere near your bed, and very, very sore. Laying there, belly-down on the cold wood, you let out a slow and shaky breath before pushing yourself onto your knees. You feel vulnerable in the middle of that huge room. It's too dark to see a thing. The moon is barely visible tonight. But the eerie silence is enough to encourage you to stumble back into bed with a confused and exhausted whimper. The music feels like it rings an echo of itself in your ears, and you still feel your dancer’s bruising grip on your hand and waist. The covers are cold. You’d been sweating in your sleep… and the dampness was not the least bit comforting. 

⛤

The day after that was dreary. It was as if your strange dream had put a fog over your entire world. Cloud cover. Autumn was approaching, so it was fitting. Your mother said that there would be a thunderstorm tonight. One look at the blackened sky and you believed her. Going for a walk, you’d taken to the road that led away from the manor. It was a much-needed break from the place. The surrounding countryside felt cold and wet despite it not having rained yet. The smell and the chill helped you clear your mind a bit. 

Despite everything — the bizarre dreams, feeling things in the dark, seeing things — you… didn't miss home. No. The manor had way too many things locked away in the dark waiting to be found for you to wish them away and out of your memory so soon. You almost felt like a kid again. Running about trying to solve imaginary mysteries. And that dream you’d had, more so, how you’d found yourself when you’d woken from it. You never used to sleepwalk like that. It was so strange. And your muscles were so sore as if you’d actually been dancing. Maybe the lack of restful sleep was getting to you.

You lost track of time out in the grass and had only just begun walking back to the house when you felt the chill of a drop of rain on your nose. By the time you were through the manor’s gate you were soaked. But the rain and the countryside had brought a strange clarity to your mind. Looking towards the manor in the distance… You swore you saw someone standing there waiting in front of the door, cloaked in red. The body in the dark, the figure in the window, the dancing man. Were they all the same person? A flash of lightning high in the sky and the rolling rumble that followed seemed to wick him away from reality. You never thought to believe in ghosts until now. Now, as you hurry up the steps and open the door, you're sure that there’s a ghost haunting this place. 

You’d taken a shower to get the smell of dampness off of you. By the time you were done, the light of the sun that filtered through the thick clouds had disappeared completely. Something about the rain beating on the roof comforted you as you walked through the dim hallway to your room. It seemed to fill what would usually be an uncomfortable silence. Taking up the empty spots in your mind and lining them with a lulling white noise. Flipping on the light in your room, you take note of the empty glass on your bedside table. A dull dread tickles at the back of your neck. You knew you’d be miserable all night if you woke up thirsty and with nothing to drink. This day would have come eventually, you tell yourself. At least the power works now. Still, you take a flashlight. 

The rain lulls to silence as you descend the stairs to the kitchen. That makes you uneasy. It was as if some protective blanket had been peeled off your back. Your steps on the marble echo as you make your way through the dining room, which is eerie in the light of your flashlight, and onto the tiled floor of the most harrowing room you know of in the manor. The kitchen looks even more worn with age than the rest of the house, even after you and your mother have spent the last week cleaning it up. Slowly, you make your way over to the sink, fitting your flashlight under your armpit while you fill up your glass. Over the sound of the sink, you hear a whisper. You shut the water off and pause, standing perfectly still while you strain your ears. Nothing. You turn the water on full to fill the glass up in a mere second. Some spills over the lip and into the sink, wetting your fingers. You don't care about that though. You turn and make your quick exit from the kitchen, only glancing back when you're in the doorway. That's where you pause, turning your flashlight onto the room one last time… just to be sure. The dull white light spills across the counter and the big fridge, reflecting off of hanging pots and pans and the old tile floor. When the light begins to buzz brighter, you already know what's going to happen. It begins to flicker… slowly at first and then fast like a strobe. You waste no time in turning tail and running up the stairs. There’d be no repeat of the dining room. You swear on it. Your feet thump on the carpet with each hurried step, water spilling from your glass as you reach the top with a gasp of breath and take a sharp turn for the hallway leading to your room. Halfway there… your stomach drops in horror when you hear footsteps running up the stairs after you. It's like someone was mimicking you. Same tempo, same speed. Fast footsteps. Your brain kicks into raw adrenaline, realizing you're being chased. You feel like a wolf chased by something that is not a wolf. Not used to being scared like this… but knowing deep in your gut to run and hide. You can't even think to scream. Your eyes begin to water and your breath comes out in ragged fear-strained rasps. Flinging your door open, you don't bother looking over your shoulder as you slam it closed behind you. The footsteps follow quickly — bare like your own — and come right up to the door where they stop abruptly. Your heart climbs into your throat as you stand there. A slab of wood keeps you and… it… separated. Holding your breath and bracing your forearm on the door… you wait in silence with eyes wider than they’d ever been in your life. Your flashlight had long since gone out and hangs dead in your hand, while your other one struggles not to shake while keeping the glass of water upright. It was still there. Still there. Still there. Waiting. The footsteps had stopped. It was waiting. Waiting there on the other side of the door just as silently as you. When your lungs burn, you realize that you still have yet to take a breath. Slowly, you let it draw out before taking another, quiet breath in and holding it. You couldn't miss a single sound. Not a single sound could escape your ears right now. Something was outside your door, you’d heard it loud and clear, chasing you. So… why were you doubting your own judgment? Perhaps... you were simply imagining things. Maybe it was just your imagination getting the best of you. This couldn't be real. It just couldn't. It couldn't be real it- 

“Hey.” 

You stiffen. You swore you just heard a whisper through the door. Right up against it. It couldn't be a trick of your ears. The sound was so crisp. The voice so unfamiliar: low, raspy, and amused. The thought that there was some… thing… on the other side, pressing its face right up against the crack in the door to whisper- you have to bite your lips to keep yourself from bursting into tears. This is a nightmare. A nightmare. An awful nightmare. 

But you can't sit here all night. So… gathering your strength, you set down your glass and flashlight on the floor. You pause, hand on the doorknob, thinking about what the hell you’d do if there was something there. Scream, you supposed. With that, you yank the door open. 

You're met with nothing. You look in both directions of the hall, left — nothing — and right, towards the staircase — nothing. Breathing a sigh of relief, you shut the door. 

That night… You slept with the lights on. 

OMG I'm on the list?! I'm so flattered and happy I could cry!!! Thank you for reading it!😵😭 AND THANK YOU FOR THE OTHER FIC RECOMMENDATIONS!!! 🥰

Babe! Quick question; what are you’re favorite Hellsing fanfics? I need new fics! I’m afraid my well has gone dry😢

You KNOW I'm boutta take this opportunity to plug the homies

If you haven't read Revelations by the homie @neet0 yet, you're missing the fuck out. This fic totally overhauls the Hellsing setting, like, entirely, as well as Alucard's backstory, and turns what you think you know about these characters on their heads. But it's probs my favorite Hellsing fic and also cough cough may or may not have a lil crossover episode situation coming someday in the future featuring our two blorbos....... TL;DR this is a fun read.

You should also definitely be following @ofwraithsandwords with their work Plutonian Sun. Their prose is gorgeous and simply a joy to read.

I'm also really enjoying A Night For Hunting by @madarasgirl - easily my favorite Lulu/Reader fic active right now!

Honestly those are the recent few that have really left a mark on me in terms of extended stories, unless you want raw smutty stuff in which case I dig this, and also this.

EDIT: idk why those last two won't link so I guess we're going without??? EDIT2: fixed lol

I'm gonna read this later cuz I have online class

happy halloween you lovely dorks

“hello again dream. How are you doing?“ cross was tired, ink had a lot of visitors that morning, so he didn’t get enough sleep- dream on the other hand, was forcefully brought in his castle for some reason, but at least, he’d get to see cross for a while.

“I’m fine, but you seem pretty tired-“ cross smiled lazily, then answered- “I’m fine- I just need to sit down for a bit-“

They both sat on the sofa, waiting for ink in the living room; there was no one to be seen anywhere, and that made sense, since ink’s castle was so big that even if he invited the whole village, there would still be an empty room the size of a house- ink was taking a while to come, so dream sighed, he was already tired, but he could feel the weight of both anxiety and stress being pressed on him making it difficult to breathe-

Cross noticed how the other was almost shaking- what did make him so anxious all of the sudden? Cross yawned, then tried to say- “dream? You look like you need some sleep-“dream tilted his head- “…maybe- the neighbors were so loud today- celebrating the end of October- one madman even threw a pumpkin at my window! I didn’t even get to rest-“ dream frowned, but cross got closer, then whispered- “yeah- the villagers were kind of loud- and it was even worse when ink invited some of them in the castle the morning-“

cross was barely awake, but dream rested on his shoulder still, and muttered- “then ink will have fun waking us up after that-“ cross blushed, but chuckled “ok then-“ he readjusted his posture for them to be more comfortable, then held dream’s hand, stoking it gently – dream blushed at the sudden touch- but decided to let the other do as he wanted, not bothered at all since it actually made him feel even more relaxed and sleepy.

They both stayed like that for a while, almost falling asleep when killer appeared out of nowhere- “hey guys!” cross froze in surprise, and dream squealed-  “ah-“ dream got up suddenly, then sat down as if nothing had happened-

“ooh~ what are those two dorks doing here?” he looked at cross, but the other just hissed “give me a break, you dumba-“he quickly glanced on dream, then muttered- “I swear if he wasn’t there-“ his eyelights were glowing in anger, but the other just huffed- “so are you two dating or something? I mean, you both seem pretty ‘close’”

  cross almost jumped at him, his face turning purple, but dream was honestly baffled- “I don’t even know you- that is none of your concern, sir!” both cross and killer stopped their nagging, and just stared at dream, but then, killer busted out laughing-

“buHAHAHAH- s-sir???” he couldn’t hold his laughter anymore, even cross huffed, trying not to laugh- but dream pouted, obviously not amused- “WHAT? You are “i dunno how many” years older than me! It’s only normal for me to call you sir, mister-“ dream blushed, but killer laughed more- “mister? Sir?? Oh- oh my- oh god-“

  cross just chuckled, then huffed- “killer will always be more of a baby than he’ll ever be an “adult” dream frowned, then got up, ending their conversation “if ink wants to talk, I’ll happily tell him that I don’t flipping care about that anymore-“

 he was ready to leave when cross jumped out of his seat, and stopped him midway- “okay- okay fine!please Don’t pay attention to that idiot- just don’t leave yet- I can’t survive both ink AND killer- “cross legitimately begged dream to stay- I mean, just staying with ink was enough to make him lose his sanity, so he couldn’t imagine surviving someone else’s stupidity-

“…ok-“ he blushed, but muttered- “i’m just going to the bathroom first-“ as he got upstairs, he heard cross’s voice shaking- “…oh no- nonononNONO-“ he heard a loud crash from the distance, some laughs and curses being thrown away by both parties-

dream blushed, but he was ambushed by a shadow that threw itself on the poor baby- “HAPPY HALLOWEEN DREAM-“ as it snapped his fingers, all the lights went out, making dream fall down the stairs, and not feel any pain for some reason-

Killer, who didn’t expect that, just escaped, and cross just shrieked as he saw dream lying down just in front of him, absolutely terrified, with a shadow on top of him- “kekeke-“ the shadow snickered- then cheerfully said as he lit up a pumpkin that suddenly appeared in front of them “happy Halloween to you two lovely dummies!”

((me: i’ll just write a small writing for spooktober about vampires-

me again: haha- detailed fluffy writing goes brrrrrr

sorry, writing anon here! and here is the “short” writing i promised- and i kind of like it! but i wouldn’t have made it if i didn’t want to draw something so bad, so be prepared :) (thank u for waiting♥️))

**********

OMG yes!! This is awwwsome (ﾟ∀ﾟ)☆ Thank you so much! ♡

Flip I need to sleep cuz I'm gonna get injection bc of dog bite I will read this tomorrow!

Transcending Time

A Cream and Nightkiller fanfiction Part 1

TW: violence/ angst

“Dream!!” The royal guard shrieked as he observed the person he loved be impaled.

“Cross..” The prince managed to croak as marrow spilled from his fresh wound.

Consumed by wrath Cross bolted forward dealing a fatal blow to the guilty party. Their lifeless body hit the floor with a thud. The prince weakened by the injury stumbled forward. The royal guard gently caught the falling skeleton and gently assisted them to the floor.

The royal guard gently cradled Dream he bit his lips attempting to hold back sobs.

“Heh.. what’s wrong Cross..? It’s not like you to make that expression..” Dream weakly smiler while breathing heavily.

“Don’t waste your time talking.. we can... we can still heal you..” Cross felt tears start to burn at the edge of his sockets. Why was this happening? It wasn’t supposed to end this way. He hadn’t even confessed his feelings yet.

Dream shook his head taking another shaky breath. “No.. it’s too late.. you know.. I’m glad I met you Cross-“ The golden eyed skeleton has a violently coughed out some marrow-tinged sputum. “You made.. life... worth living...”

“Dream..” the royal guard sobbed tears streaming down his face and landing on the smaller skeleton in front of him. “Don’t... you can’t go...”

Dream’s bottom lip began to quiver as he choked back tears as his feet slowly faded into dust. “Tell me... do you believe.. we can... be reborn..?” Another violent coughing spell causing the small skeleton to breath shallow and rapid.

“I don’t see why not..” The taller skeleton barely whispered in an attempt to keep his voice from cracking.

Dream smiled weakly fresh tears staining his cheeks. “I think.. we can be.. I would hope to be reborn.. so we could meet again.. maybe then..” Dream drew in a shaky breath. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. He felt so tired and all he wanted to do was sleep. “I could.. tell you.. the things I couldn’t now..”

By now his legs had vanished Cross bawled knowing the inevitable fate of his beloved. “Dream..” The guard gently took the prince’s hand up bringing it up to his mouth. He placed a gentle kiss on the outside of the delicate hand. “I love you.. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth..”

Dream’s sockets went dark. How could fate be so cruel to him. He began bawling he too reciprocated the others feelings. Yet, he didn’t have the nerve to tell the sobbing skeleton in front of him. He couldn’t cause the other more suffering.

“Cross.. promise me... promise me you won’t follow me... try to live.. “ The prince could feel his shortening lifespan decrease each second.

“You know I can’t-“

“Please!.. please.. try...” The smaller skeleton pleaded. Urgency audible in his hoarse voice.

With a pained expression Cross closed his eyes pulling what was left of Dream into a tight embrace. “I.. I’ll try...”

“Thank you... we’ll meet again.. Cross... I promise...”

After those last few words Dream faded into dust leaving only the clothing and the prince’s crown behind. Grasping at the air Cross cursed at the sky. He clenched the clothing and headpiece agonizing over his love’s death.

Cross wept until he couldn’t produce anymore tears. He gently folded the clothes and placed the headpiece on top. He felt numb nothing mattered anymore his sole purpose for existing had now vanished. However those last few words Dream said rang inside his head. “This is why I hate making promises.”

~~~

On the other side of the castle another royal guard along with the second prince attempted to escape. Chaos plagued the castle as greedy noblemen tried to overthrow the twin princes. It had become difficult to trust anyone inside these walls. Fortunately Nightmare knew he could trust his loyal guard, Killer.

“We have to get you out of here..” the guard huffed.

“What about, Dream?” The prince asked gasping for breath.

“Cross will find him! My priority is getting you out safely! You must survive, your majesty!”

Nightmare clenched at his chest. Something from wrong.. he felt that he’d lost something important but he didn’t know what. He wished that his brother was safe.

They’d managed to escape the castle using a secret escape route. Unfortunately they were met with enemy soldiers.

“You fools! This is treason!” Killer cursed at the guards. He pulled out his sword prepared to lay down his life for the prince.

“Hah, it can’t be treason if the prince dies!”

“Curse you..” Killer shielded Nightmare with his body a bead of sweat dripping on the side of his skull. “Your highness.. Nightmare.. as soon I charge I want you to run away... try to find Cross.. hopefully he found your brother and you can escape safely.”

“No I can’t leave you, Killer!!” The small prince grasped the other desperately. He felt if he let go he’d definitely never see him again.

At that moment several soldiers lunged forward most of their attacks aimed at the prince.

“Damn it.. Nightmare run!” Killer charged at the soldiers managing to injure a multitude of them. However, clearly outnumbered he was pinned to the ground with a foot on his back. He gasped for air as they slammed their foot onto his back keeping him from breathing properly.

“Don’t hurt him!” Nightmare lunged forward to aide his beaten guard. However, before he reached Killer he was shoved to the ground.

“Nightmare!!!” Killer cried desperately powerless to save the person in front of him.

“Tsk, Kill him already!”

Killer’s eyes widened horrified at the scene he witnessed. Nightmare who was struggling on the ground had been stabbed through in the back piercing his soul.

Nightmare let out a blood curdling scream. He gasped for air as he desperately clung to the last few minutes of life. He glanced at Killer giving an apologetic smile “I’m sorry...”

“Why are you sorry! I should..” tears swelled up in his sockets. “I should apologize! I failed you!!”

“Awe isn’t this sweet? You can watch your lover vanish before your very eyes!”

What a cruel joke life had played for them. All the twins wanted was to have a normal life. They wished to confess their feelings to their loved ones in hopes their feelings reciprocated.

Nightmare began to dust away continuing to smile at the skeleton in front of him. “I..” Nightmare croaked his voice soft and weak, tears burning at the edge of his sockets. “I really wanted... to.. tell you something...”

The guards vision became blurry as the tears impaired his vision. “What is it.. tell me, Nightmare..”

Shaking his head Nightmare drew a shaky breath while smiling weakly. “No.. that would be too cruel..” Over half his body had dusted at this point.

“How sweet of you two. Well there’s no point in sticking around the prince will die inevitably.” The soldier snickered as he motioned for the rest to follow him.

Killer crawled over to Nightmare. He was audibly sobbing. It couldn’t be real could it? How could he have failed so miserably at protecting someone.

“We’ll see.. each other again someday, Killer.. don’t worry...” the prince quietly sobbed as he felt death approaching. “If I’m reborn.. I hope.. we’re reborn together..”

Killer couldn’t respond as the lump in his throat grew. He cursed at himself for the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing.

“Killer... you... made me extremely happy.. don’t.. blame yourself...” The prince gently cupped the others cheek giving one final smile before he completely dusted away.

Killer clutched at the vanishing hand tears flooding his vision when it escaped from his grasp. Nightmare didn’t deserve to die that tragic death. He’d done nothing wrong. All because some noblemen wanted more power and money.

“Finally he’s dead.” A soldier sneered approaching the devastated guard.

Those words caused something to snap inside of Killer. In an instance he rose from the ground and dusted the soldier in front of him. His eyes were void of emotion, he only had one goal in mind. Avenge the love of his life, Nightmare.

[First | Next]

So I have to say this chapter hurt to write. I know I said the first week of October but it’s basically here! So there’s a reason Cross’ and Killer’s names are crossed out. I hope it makes sense later in the story. Anyway thanks for being patient!! I really hope you guys like this chapter.

Cross belongs to @jakei95

Killer belongs to @rahafwabas

Dream and Nightmare belong to @jokublog

Sharing with @zu-is-here because I did get inspiration from their page! It’s sorta based on the idea that someone mentioned how a soul could be reborn after a certain amount of time!

Flip I need to sleep cuz I'm gonna get injection bc of dog bite I will read this tomorrow!

Transcending Time

A Cream and Nightkiller fanfiction Part 1

TW: violence/ angst

“Dream!!” The royal guard shrieked as he observed the person he loved be impaled.

“Cross..” The prince managed to croak as marrow spilled from his fresh wound.

Consumed by wrath Cross bolted forward dealing a fatal blow to the guilty party. Their lifeless body hit the floor with a thud. The prince weakened by the injury stumbled forward. The royal guard gently caught the falling skeleton and gently assisted them to the floor.

The royal guard gently cradled Dream he bit his lips attempting to hold back sobs.

“Heh.. what’s wrong Cross..? It’s not like you to make that expression..” Dream weakly smiler while breathing heavily.

“Don’t waste your time talking.. we can... we can still heal you..” Cross felt tears start to burn at the edge of his sockets. Why was this happening? It wasn’t supposed to end this way. He hadn’t even confessed his feelings yet.

Dream shook his head taking another shaky breath. “No.. it’s too late.. you know.. I’m glad I met you Cross-“ The golden eyed skeleton has a violently coughed out some marrow-tinged sputum. “You made.. life... worth living...”

“Dream..” the royal guard sobbed tears streaming down his face and landing on the smaller skeleton in front of him. “Don’t... you can’t go...”

Dream’s bottom lip began to quiver as he choked back tears as his feet slowly faded into dust. “Tell me... do you believe.. we can... be reborn..?” Another violent coughing spell causing the small skeleton to breath shallow and rapid.

“I don’t see why not..” The taller skeleton barely whispered in an attempt to keep his voice from cracking.

Dream smiled weakly fresh tears staining his cheeks. “I think.. we can be.. I would hope to be reborn.. so we could meet again.. maybe then..” Dream drew in a shaky breath. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. He felt so tired and all he wanted to do was sleep. “I could.. tell you.. the things I couldn’t now..”

By now his legs had vanished Cross bawled knowing the inevitable fate of his beloved. “Dream..” The guard gently took the prince’s hand up bringing it up to his mouth. He placed a gentle kiss on the outside of the delicate hand. “I love you.. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth..”

Dream’s sockets went dark. How could fate be so cruel to him. He began bawling he too reciprocated the others feelings. Yet, he didn’t have the nerve to tell the sobbing skeleton in front of him. He couldn’t cause the other more suffering.

“Cross.. promise me... promise me you won’t follow me... try to live.. “ The prince could feel his shortening lifespan decrease each second.

“You know I can’t-“

“Please!.. please.. try...” The smaller skeleton pleaded. Urgency audible in his hoarse voice.

With a pained expression Cross closed his eyes pulling what was left of Dream into a tight embrace. “I.. I’ll try...”

“Thank you... we’ll meet again.. Cross... I promise...”

After those last few words Dream faded into dust leaving only the clothing and the prince’s crown behind. Grasping at the air Cross cursed at the sky. He clenched the clothing and headpiece agonizing over his love’s death.

Cross wept until he couldn’t produce anymore tears. He gently folded the clothes and placed the headpiece on top. He felt numb nothing mattered anymore his sole purpose for existing had now vanished. However those last few words Dream said rang inside his head. “This is why I hate making promises.”

~~~

On the other side of the castle another royal guard along with the second prince attempted to escape. Chaos plagued the castle as greedy noblemen tried to overthrow the twin princes. It had become difficult to trust anyone inside these walls. Fortunately Nightmare knew he could trust his loyal guard, Killer.

“We have to get you out of here..” the guard huffed.

“What about, Dream?” The prince asked gasping for breath.

“Cross will find him! My priority is getting you out safely! You must survive, your majesty!”

Nightmare clenched at his chest. Something from wrong.. he felt that he’d lost something important but he didn’t know what. He wished that his brother was safe.

They’d managed to escape the castle using a secret escape route. Unfortunately they were met with enemy soldiers.

“You fools! This is treason!” Killer cursed at the guards. He pulled out his sword prepared to lay down his life for the prince.

“Hah, it can’t be treason if the prince dies!”

“Curse you..” Killer shielded Nightmare with his body a bead of sweat dripping on the side of his skull. “Your highness.. Nightmare.. as soon I charge I want you to run away... try to find Cross.. hopefully he found your brother and you can escape safely.”

“No I can’t leave you, Killer!!” The small prince grasped the other desperately. He felt if he let go he’d definitely never see him again.

At that moment several soldiers lunged forward most of their attacks aimed at the prince.

“Damn it.. Nightmare run!” Killer charged at the soldiers managing to injure a multitude of them. However, clearly outnumbered he was pinned to the ground with a foot on his back. He gasped for air as they slammed their foot onto his back keeping him from breathing properly.

“Don’t hurt him!” Nightmare lunged forward to aide his beaten guard. However, before he reached Killer he was shoved to the ground.

“Nightmare!!!” Killer cried desperately powerless to save the person in front of him.

“Tsk, Kill him already!”

Killer’s eyes widened horrified at the scene he witnessed. Nightmare who was struggling on the ground had been stabbed through in the back piercing his soul.

Nightmare let out a blood curdling scream. He gasped for air as he desperately clung to the last few minutes of life. He glanced at Killer giving an apologetic smile “I’m sorry...”

“Why are you sorry! I should..” tears swelled up in his sockets. “I should apologize! I failed you!!”

“Awe isn’t this sweet? You can watch your lover vanish before your very eyes!”

What a cruel joke life had played for them. All the twins wanted was to have a normal life. They wished to confess their feelings to their loved ones in hopes their feelings reciprocated.

Nightmare began to dust away continuing to smile at the skeleton in front of him. “I..” Nightmare croaked his voice soft and weak, tears burning at the edge of his sockets. “I really wanted... to.. tell you something...”

The guards vision became blurry as the tears impaired his vision. “What is it.. tell me, Nightmare..”

Shaking his head Nightmare drew a shaky breath while smiling weakly. “No.. that would be too cruel..” Over half his body had dusted at this point.

“How sweet of you two. Well there’s no point in sticking around the prince will die inevitably.” The soldier snickered as he motioned for the rest to follow him.

Killer crawled over to Nightmare. He was audibly sobbing. It couldn’t be real could it? How could he have failed so miserably at protecting someone.

“We’ll see.. each other again someday, Killer.. don’t worry...” the prince quietly sobbed as he felt death approaching. “If I’m reborn.. I hope.. we’re reborn together..”

Killer couldn’t respond as the lump in his throat grew. He cursed at himself for the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing.

“Killer... you... made me extremely happy.. don’t.. blame yourself...” The prince gently cupped the others cheek giving one final smile before he completely dusted away.

Killer clutched at the vanishing hand tears flooding his vision when it escaped from his grasp. Nightmare didn’t deserve to die that tragic death. He’d done nothing wrong. All because some noblemen wanted more power and money.

“Finally he’s dead.” A soldier sneered approaching the devastated guard.

Those words caused something to snap inside of Killer. In an instance he rose from the ground and dusted the soldier in front of him. His eyes were void of emotion, he only had one goal in mind. Avenge the love of his life, Nightmare.

[First | Next]

So I have to say this chapter hurt to write. I know I said the first week of October but it’s basically here! So there’s a reason Cross’ and Killer’s names are crossed out. I hope it makes sense later in the story. Anyway thanks for being patient!! I really hope you guys like this chapter.

Cross belongs to @jakei95

Killer belongs to @rahafwabas

Dream and Nightmare belong to @jokublog

Sharing with @zu-is-here because I did get inspiration from their page! It’s sorta based on the idea that someone mentioned how a soul could be reborn after a certain amount of time!

The flip? Why is this so beautiful dude-

I’ll love you to death <3

Cross’s love for dream never stopped, no matter how painful the consequences were. He knew that he wasn’t the same anymore, and he knew that S!D didn’t love him anymore- but…but he could never stop loving him! He was sick- he was put in such torture, but he would go through it, no matter how bad it was.

  S!D felt that something was wrong, and it was getting worse- no matter how he pushed the narrative that everything was fine, and that he didn’t feel a thing for cross- that he wasn’t the same; he couldn’t help but be…. Worried- the last time he was so cold and harsh with cross, he heard sobs in the bathroom, and honestly, he didn’t know how to feel about it- pity? The negative feelings were sure real good, but it felt-… disgusting-

  Each morning, cross would be awake way before S!D, which was surprising,  considering cross was the lazy type, and that S!D wakes up pretty early, but he assumed that every sans wakes up pretty early considering the “nightmares” they get, but each time S!D wakes up earlier, cross wears his hoodie and hides his face, and covers himself with his blanket as much as possible.

  Then one day, S!D woke up after cross again- but the other’s bed wasn’t covered; he leaned to make it for the idiot when he noticed some blood on the pillow- and not only that, but he also saw some petals on the bed- wait- he was probably injured when he went looking for nightmare- but he also went into other AU’s to relax? So THAT was why he didn’t find nightmare yet- he forced himself to believe it, and he went to the kitchen, ready to argue with him when he heard loud coughs, not the usual ones someone would have- was he sick?

  He entered the kitchen very slowly, making sure the other didn’t hear him, but the sound that cross made was heartbreaking- he sobbed, coughed, almost puking- he looked like he was choking- S!D couldn’t help but feel bad for cross- the other was almost agonizing on the ground, but when he noticed that the other was coughing a big amount of blood, he ran towards him- “CROSS-” his instinct didn’t let him chose whether he should help him or not- it was already decided.

  But as soon as the other got closer, cross fell to the ground, almost going unconscious- “C-CROSS!” he didn’t know what to do, but he got on his knees- and held his face, what was wrong?

  He noticed some petals falling off his mouth, and a huge amount of them were splattered with blood on the floor- wait- what? Why did he even have flowers inside his mouth- did- did he…?

  Cross sobbed- but as soon as he opened his eyes, he tried to wipe his face and hide his mouth “d-dream? W-what are you-“ but S!D just blurted out- “what in the world is happening to you cross?!” he now knew that he felt somewhat worried about him- I mean, how could he react differently?!

  “…i- dream-“ cross let out the tears he held back for what felt like an eternity- “i- I love you, I love you so much- s-so I don’t care if it kills me- but- it still kind of hurts-“ he tried to laugh, but ended up coughing another bunch of petals- S!D paused, he didn’t know how to react- he couldn’t answer-

  “it’s fine, I’ll be fine- if- if I wanted this to stop- I’ll- I’ll have to stop loving you, and i- I don’t want that- even if you say you don’t like me- i- I promised that I’d stay with you, and I don’t want to force you into liking me back just to “save” me from this disease- “ he wiped his tears, and avoided his gaze, when he felt a drop of water fall on his face, a tear? Was S!D crying?

  “…cross-“ why is he crying? he was not the same idiot who actually believed in people- he was not the same person who wanted to be with cross even if the other probably stayed for his aura, he wasn’t the one who rejected cross’s proposal to protect him- because now, he doesn’t love ANYONE at all- yeah! Yeah- …..yeah….

  …..

  What a stupid lie

  He didn’t accept his proposal to protect him, but it ended up literally killing him- he assumed cross never loved him, and that he was as fake as the others were, but he ended up staying with him no matter how much he tried to hurt him- he wanted to love him, no matter how painful the consequences of the disease were-

  He could lie to himself all he wanted, but cross loved him, and he loved him too-

  “I thought… this disease was…fictional-“ S!D felt horrible- but cross held his chest trying to breathe in- “i- I did too before meeting you” he smiled, but S!D’s eyes shot wide open- wait- no… he covered his mouth in shock- so cross actually knew that he didn’t fully like him back then- but he still- he still….

  S!D sobbed- just how horrible did he feel like in just a day- “cross- I’m so sorry-“ but cross managed to smile, and brush it off- “it’s okay-“ “NO IT’s NOT-“ S!D interrupted him, and cross was almost surprised- “it’s not okay- you’re not “fine”! you’re flippin DYING-“

  S!D buried his face in his hands, and cross tried to respond, but the other took his hand and held it as tight as he could- “how did I doubt you after everything you did for me- and I claim I love you? I’m so sorry cross-“ he wiped his tears, and cross stayed silent, waiting for the other’s words-

“I’m sorry I made you go through all of this- I wish I could’ve saved you earlier, but maybe I can still prove myself that I still can” cross didn’t have time to question him about that when S!D leaned closer, and let his lips meet the other’s-

  Cross felt like the pain he once had inside his whole body melting away the more he stayed in that position- so he closed his eyes, glad to finally be able to feel so relaxed and good- and as soon as S!D pulled away, he whispered “I love you cross”

  Cross felt like the weight on his chest finally disappeared, and he was truly able to rest, so he replied- “I love you too, drea-“ he suddenly fell unconscious on the other’s lap, totally tired.

S!D suddenly realized the situation he was in, and what just happened, so his face was covered with a deep blush- ugh- did he actually go that far? ….it was totally worth it.

(hello again, writing anon here! sorry i didn’t post it yesterday, but i had lost a bit of the writing, and it was getting quite late, so i didn’t want to wake up late to school- but now i just got back home, and I’m kind of tired, but also exited! plus, i have something else to give you today with the writing ;) thank u for waiting♥️)

**********

Oh my god,,, (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) You’re one surprise after another <3 This one is amazing, thank you so much! ♡

yes Yes YES

This is flippin good dude

more More MORE

I need MOREEEE-

Fanfiction Cream and Nightkiller

Opposites attract? Part 5 (End)

Once the date was over the brothers headed back home. They were both flustered and in shock from the events that unfolded. Once they gathered their thoughts Dream broke down into tears.

“Dream? What’s wrong?! Did Cross do something to you?” Nightmare rushed to his brother but was prepared to bolt out the door.

“No,” Dream choked out. As tears ran down his cheeks. “I just.. Felt so happy.. before realizing I might’ve something beautiful..”

“Dream..” Nightmare escorted his brother to their cough wrapping a blanket around them.

“It’s just... era tan lindo hermano... que sentía que hasta el tiempo se paró... y... y...” Dream felt a lump form in his throat it was becoming difficult to get the words out.. “He confessed.. in the most sweetest way possible.. I.. I.. didn’t answer him because I wasn’t sure how I felt... but now I realized maybe too late.. that I like him too...”

(Era tan lindo hermano... que sentía que hasta el tiempo se paró = He was so sweet brother I felt that time had stopped.)

Dream covered his face with his hands attempting to hide. He was horrified that he’d shattered his opportunity at happiness. Nightmare rubbed his brothers back trying to console his distressed brother.

Meanwhile he was also regretting not responding to Killer’s confession right away himself. He was too euphoric that he forgot to answer the confession. Though the eyeless skeleton did say he didn’t have to give him an answer right away.

“Vamos Dream.. No tienes nada de que preocuparte.. I’m sure the Cross’ feelings for you are genuine. So I’m sure he’s more than willing to wait for when you’re ready. Besides, he’ll be more than happy when he hears those words from you.” Nightmare smiled reassuringly.

(Vamos Dream.. No tienes nada de que preocuparte.. = c’mon Dream.. you have nothing to worry about..)

Dream nodded while wiping his tears. “You’re right, I’ll tell him next time I see him.” The golden eye skeleton smiled while sniffling.

They both vouched they’d confess their feelings upon meeting again.

~~~

Two days passed since the date and the brothers became increasingly worried. It was a normal day like any other except something was different. The two skeleton friends where no were in sight. By this time they’d stop by the bookstore to say hi or even help out.

Dream had a disheartened expression. Was it possible that Cross didn’t want anything to do with him anymore?

Nightmare would glance at the door every time he heard it open. But alas the skeletons failed to appear. Nightmare began to frown upset that the eyeless skeleton didn’t appear. What was taking him so long..? Could something have happened to him?

Both brothers sighed closing up their bookstore. They had no choice but to go back home and hope that the skeletons would appear tomorrow.

The clouds loomed over the sky and a light drizzle of rain covered the city. Dream went in the opposite direction as his brother since he needed to drop off a few items. He’d forgotten his umbrella but he didn’t mind the rain was rather refreshing.

As he walked to his destination Dream could only replay the moments he’d spent with the red eyed skeleton. He felt his face burn as he recalled the close proximity when Cross helped him with reach the top shelf or when they went skating together.

He really wanted to see Cross so he could return his feelings. He was positive he’d be the luckiest guy in the world being next to Cross.

Finally he arrived at his destination and the rain had picked up pouring in the streets. Dream stared up at the sky before returning his gaze in front of him.

Suddenly he saw a certain red eyed skeleton walk down the streets with an umbrella in hand. He had a serious expression but appeared to be nervous about something.

Dream forgot his surroundings as he could only focus at the skeleton in front of him. Before he could think he’s legs moved on his own sprinting in Cross’ direction.

He had to get to him. He had to tell him how he felt or he would surely explode from keeping his feelings confined.

Cross noticed a small figure approach him but didn’t realize who it was until Dream tackled him with a hug causing him to drop the umbrella.

“D-Dream?! W-what are you doing here??” Cross exclaimed taken aback. He’d never seen Dream like this.

“C-Cross..” Tears began welling up within Dream’s sockets. “I-I..”

“Dream what’s wrong? Did something happen..? Whose ass do I have to kick??” Cross protectively embraced Dream tightly against his chest.

“N-no..” Dream managed to choke out. “I just.. I’m so happy to see you... I was scared you hated me..”

“What..? Dream why would you think that?”

“B-because I didn’t... I didn’t answer your confession...” the golden eyed skeleton mumbled as he buried his face against the other’s chest.

Cross lightly smiled while caressing the smaller skeleton. “I could never hate you.. besides I told you.. you didn’t have to answer me right away...”

“I know but..” the smaller skeleton sniffled regaining his composure. “But I... Cross... I..” He gently pulled back with a golden hue covering his face. It was now or never. “Yo también te quiero.”

(Yo también to quiero = I like you too)

Cross sockets went dark. He wasn’t sure if he heard correctly or if he was dreaming. “W-wha.. Dream... did you... I...” Cross was flustered he’d completely forgotten how to form sentences. He gently cupped Dream’s face in one hand while interlocking their free hands together. “Can you repeat that..?”

“W-what? I-I.. it’s too embarrassing!”

“Please for me..?”

“Y-yo... te.. te quiero Cross.”

(Y-Yo.. te... te quiero = I-I.. l-like you)

“Heh.. yo también to quiero Dream.” Cross whispered as he gently leaned forward. “You can stop me if you don’t like it ok..?”

(Yo también to quiero Dream = I like you too Dream)

“Wha-“ Dream was cut off when the others lips met his own. Initially Dream’s sockets widened from the unexpected action but soon he closed his eyes melting into the kiss.

When Cross pulled back Dream pouted wanting the moment to last a little longer. The taller skeleton chuckled. “Let’s get out of this rain before we catch a cold.”

Dream looked at their closed and realized they were soaking wet. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment. He’d completely forgotten it was raining!

Cross extended his hand out to Dream. “Let’s go back, shall we?”

Nodding with his face covered in a golden hue, Dream took his partner’s hand as they headed back home.

~~~

Nightmare stared up at the rain letting it pour down his face. He sincerely wished he could meet Killer. Sighing and returning his attention to the path in front of him his sockets went black as he noticed the familiar eyeless skeleton.

He gulped and clenched his fist gathering the courage to confess.

Killer had his classic grin plastered on his face. He had a jacket on with its hood shielding his head from the rain.

Killer’s smile grew softer as he noticed the violet eyed skeleton standing in the downpour.

“Whatcha doing hot stuff?” Killer playfully asked. However from the lack of response of the smaller skeleton his smile took a more serious turn.

“Nightmare..? Are you ok?”

The violet eyed skeleton bit his lips trying to find the words in order to confess.

“Oh.. hey so I uh.. got you a little something. Let me see your hand.”

Extending out his arm Nightmare felt something be placed on his wrist. It was a bracelet made with a violet glass centerpiece in the shape of a crescent.

“I.. kinda noticed you like a lot of moonlike related objects.. you keep a few near your checkout area.” Killer sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.

Nightmare wasn’t one to get emotional but seeing how much Killer paid attention to small details made tears well up in his sockets.

“Oh crap! What’s wrong? I’m sorry! If you don’t like it I’ll take it back!”

Nightmare shook his head while smiling holding the hand with the bracelet closer to his soul. “S-sorry I don’t know why... but the tears won’t stop.. I’m not sad..”

Killer let out a relieved breath. “So these are tears of happiness?”

Nightmare smiled and upon gazing up to the sockets he smiled tenderly. “Killer.. I really like you.” He closed his sockets while finishing the sentence letting tears roll down his cheeks.

Killer froze the instance he heard those words. Did he hear correctly or was he just dreaming. Nightmare gave killer a concerned look as he didn’t respond.

“Killer..? Are you ok?”

Finally processing the information he lifted the smaller skeleton. “How could I not be?! The love of my life finally confessed their feelings for me!”

“P-put me down p-people are watching!”

“Even better.” Killer proclaimed raising his eyebrows. “That way they’re aware of our mutual feelings.”

Nightmare face went a dark violet upon hearing those words. “Y-you idiot!”

“But I’m your idiot.”

“Ugh..” Nightmare hid his face in the crook of Killer’s neck earning a chuckle from the taller skeleton.

Killer gently tilted the smaller’s head up and gently pressed his lips against the others. Nightmare’s whole head was covered in a dark violet hue. His whole body tensed with the initial contact worried about the wandering eyes. However, his body relaxed and he shut his eyes enjoying the blissful moment.

Pulling back Killer grinned setting Nightmare down and embracing him. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.”

Nightmare smiled and hugged Killer back. “I could say the same..”

“How bout we go back home?”

“Yes let’s.”

Killer!Sans belongs to @rahafwabas

Cross!Sans belong @jakei95

Dream and Nightmare belong to @jokublog

Sharing with @zu-is-here because they are amazing and their page is so full of inspiration!

So I really wanted to include something in the story but no matter how I tried to fit it in it sounded way too forced or didn’t fit in the atmosphere of the sections.

The reason that Cross and Killer were absent for a while was because they were trying to change their bad lifestyle. They were trying to find jobs but because of their reputation it’s taking longer than they expected.

Also Nightmare and Dream agreed to let them work in the bookstore either indefinitely or until they found new jobs.

Anyway, this is the end of this piece! Hope you guys have enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Actually I had a separate scene for the confession scene for Killer and Nightmare but it didn’t feel right so I changed it.

Thanks to all of you for reading and your support! See you guys around when I start another fanfiction! <3

Another one yesssssss

Fanfiction Cream and Nightkiller

Opposites attract? Part 4

The day finally arrived for the skeletons double date.

Back home Killer was more than ecstatic about the whole situation. He’d actually put in some effort to make himself presentable. He managed to find a dark long sleeved shirt, black skinny jeans, and wore a black leather jacket.

Cross on the other hand wore a black long sleeved shirt, white slim jeans, and a white and black vest jacket.

“Dude... I feel like I’m gonna be sick.” Cross grumbled holding his stomach. He was a complete nervous wreck.

It had been a couple of days since Killer offered going on a double date. Unfortunately, with Cross dragging his friend away they weren’t able to set up a date. So, forced to go back they finally were able to agree on a date. Nightmare was still rather reluctant while Dream was excited about going on a date.

“C’mon it’ll be fine! I’m sure Dream likes you.” Killer patted his friend on the back.

“The problem is... I’m pretty sure he likes everybody..” Cross sighed.

He’d been observing the golden eyed skeleton for a while and had realized he’s a genuinely nice person. He was afraid that the skeleton would only accept going out with him just so his feelings wouldn’t get hurt.

“You’ll never know unless you shoot your shot.”

“I guess, alright let’s go.”

Waiting for troublesome duo outside of the bookstore where the twin brothers. They were wearing white short sleeved shirts, with slim jeans, and open button shirts matching their eyelights.

For a second both Killer and Cross stopped dead in their tracks completely infatuated by the siblings.

It took them a second before coming back to reality. Dark hues covered their cheeks as they approached their dates.

“This is gonna be so much fun! I’m so excited!” Dream smiled eagerness visible in his twinkling eye lights.

Nightmare scoffed at the statement crossing his arms across his chest. “Let’s just get this over with.” Rolling his eyes.

“Don’t listen to him guys. He’s just nervous is all.”

“Dream!”

“What it’s true!”

“Ugh let’s just go!” Nightmare began storming off completely flustered that his brother ratted him out like that.

Dream giggled following behind along with the cross and killer.

Their first destination was an aquarium. None of the skeletons have been to one and from the flyers it appeared to be interesting.

Every single one of them were astonished by the variety of animals the aquarium contained.

Dream was completely absorbed in observing the animals he didn’t notice the pair of eyes gently watching over him. Though Cross was amazed by the aquarium it appeared as it Dream’s golden eyes glowed in the dimly lit room.

On the other hand Killer was the one completely entranced by the creatures of the sea unaware of the violet eyes observing him. Killer had a more gentle and soft expression and a smile he’d never seen before. He felt his soul skip a beat. A fuzzy feeling formed within his chest and he wasn’t sure why.

“-mare? Nig- hey shorty!” A hand waved in front of Nightmare brining him back to reality. He’d been lost in thought he hadn’t realized Killer calling his name.

“Y-yes?” He stuttered caught off guard.

“Woah, are you ok? Wouldn’t you normally yell at me for calling you short?” Killer raised an eyebrow.

“Ah, sorry I was distracted. But call me that again and you’ll be sorry.”

“Heh, there’s the Nighty I fell for.” Killer winked.

A barely notíciele hue started to build within Nightmare’s cheeks. “D-dont call me that!” For some reason the fuzzy feeling in chest intensified upon hearing his nickname come from Killer’s lips.

“Awe but Dream calls you that.”

“He’s my brother that’s different.” Nightmare turned his back to the taller skeleton. He was worried that Killer would notice the blush on his cheeks.

“Fine fine. Anyway we’re at the end of the aquarium. Looks like your brother and Cross are lagging behind.”

After a few minutes the other pair showed up. Apparently Dream and Cross had become so invested in the wildlife they kept forgetting to move to new areas.

Their second destination was a roller skating area. It was a popular place and appeared to be fun.

Once on the skating ring it appeared as if both Cross and Nightmare picked up the new skill with no problems. Dream and Killer however didn’t have to same luck.

Killer was holding on to railing in order not to fall, refusing to leave the area to keep from making a fool out of himself.

“Aren’t you coming?”

When Killer glanced at the direction of the voice he was surprised to find Nightmare standing in front of him.

“And risk embarrassing myself in front of you? No thanks. Besides why aren’t you helping Dream?”

“Well Dream is busy with you buddy over there and besides. Isn’t it rude to abandon your date when on a date?” Nightmare asked.

“Well.. That’s... Ugh fine. Promise you won’t laugh or think I’m lame.”

“I can’t promise anything.” Nightmare flashed a smile making Killer’s soul skip a beat.

It was a playful and coy smile. One that not even his brother had seen. Killer made sure to store it in his memories. Also, promising himself to make sure that Nightmare would smile with him more often.

Killer took Nightmare’s hand and with his assistance he managed to keep his balance.

On the other hand Dream was struggling but determined at least stand on his own. However, upon letting go of the rail he lost his balance and was falling forward.

Fortunately, Cross was there to catch him helping him steady himself.

“Ugh... I don’t like this it’s way to embarrassing. What if I fall or someone makes fun of me..?” Dream mumbled audible enough for Cross to hear.

The red eyed skeleton leaned to Dream’s ear whispering. “No te preocupes porque yo estoy aquí para protegerte.”

When he pulled back he gave Dream a reassuring smile.

Time had stopped for Dream upon hearing those words and seeing that smile. Everything but Cross became a blur and he could’ve sworn that he emitted light from his body. Dream had become captivated by the taller’s charm he had forgotten he was staring at his companion.

“Uhm.. Dream?” Cross tilted his head a bit concerned at the lack of response from the smaller.

“O-Oh si? Digo what? I mean I’m ok!” Dream glanced down feeling heat rise from his core to his cheeks. What was going on? What was this feeling?

“Ok.. well shall we go?” Cross extended his arm out in the direction of the skating rink. Dream nodded still feeling his warm to his very core. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling yet he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

The skeletons continued to skate for hours having a blast. They’d laugh whenever one of them would tumble down while the other would help them up. Finally exhausted from skating they decided to head to their final destination.

They headed to the park where the sun had begun to set. It was a beautiful view giving most of the plants a beautiful golden sunlight kiss.

Cross and Dream had gone off to buy some nice-cream while Killer and Nightmare went to a mini botanical garden.

While walking under a makeshift tunnel fireflies began lighting up the trail. It was a rather beautiful sight and Nightmare was rather absorbed in the beauty of it. Killer just watched in awe seeing how the creatures managed to bring out Nightmares vibrant violet eyes.

Killer took a deep breath before approaching the smaller skeleton. “Nightmare.. I have something important to tell you.”

“Hm? What is it Killer?” Nightmare glanced at the eye less skeleton expecting it to be a lighthearted joke. But when Killer took held both his hands he new it was serious. “U-uhm what’s going on?”

“Nightmare.. I... Dang it why is it so hard..” Killer gave Nightmare’s hands a light squeeze.

The smaller skeleton could feel the other tremble and his soul began to beat loudly inside his chest.

“How do I.. awe screw it.. I like you!” Killer exclaimed looking directly into Nightmare’s eyes.

Heat rose to Nightmare’s cheeks. He wasn’t expecting this to happen. He was completely flustered and at a loss for words.

“Heh, cat got your tongue? Or maybe I did? It’s alright you don’t need to answer me now or soon. Even if you don’t like me now I’ll make sure you fall for me.” Killer flashed him a smile.

~~~

Both Cross and Dream sat at a bench enjoying their ice creams. It had been a great day that Cross wasn’t sure if he wanted to take the chance and ruin the moment by confessing.

“Thank you, Cross! It was such an amazing day today! I’ve never seen Nightmare so happy! I really hope more days like these come by!” Dream stated once he finished his nice-cream.

“Dream.. I.. did you really have fun today?”

“Yes! It was a magical day today!” Dreams smiled so brightly Cross swore it lit up the darkening sky.

Cross clenched his fist before placing himself in front of Dream and getting on a knee.

“Cross? Is everything ok?”

“Dream.. I have something important to tell you. I.. I’m not expecting a response today.. and I don’t want you to feel obligated to respond..”

Cross paused before proceeding. “Dream.. yo.. yo.. te quiero.. I like you... in a way more than friends.”

Dream became speechless. He wasn’t sure what was happening just that his soul felt it would escape from his body. He wanted to say something but wasn’t positive what he should say.

“It’s ok,” Cross smiled warmly. “I already told you. You don’t need to answer me today.” He gently grasped Dream’s hand and planted a gentle kiss on top.

Killer!Sans @rahafwabas

Cross!Sans @jakei95

Dream and Nightmare belong to @jokublog

Sharing with @zu-is-here because their page is full of inspiration!

Well this story sent me to my deepes uwu moments haha! Awe it’s cute seeing the skele-bro’s being flustered! I did want to add more detail about what they did on their dates but I thought that would make it waaaaay too long. Anyway I’m willing to do some “side” chapters maybe where I go into more detail? Idk let me know what you guys think!

On a side note: “No te preocupes porque yo estoy aquí para protegerte.” Translate to: “don’t worry because I’m here to protect you.”

Yeasssssss!!!!!!!!! Real smooth killer

Fanfiction Cream and Nightkiller

Opposites attract? Part 2

Nightmare’s relief immediately turned into disapproval upon seeing their surprise visitors. Scowling he turned to Dream silently communicating his disappointment in his brother before returning his attention to the strangers in his store.

Seemingly the pair of skeletons weren’t fond of the way Nightmare was glaring at them and both stared back in return.

Dream could feel the tension build up and he frantically tried to find a a solution.

“I-I brought your coffee, brother!” Dream blurted out as he shoves the hot beverage in Nightmare’s hand.

Breaking the staring showdown Nightmare glanced at his brother. “We need to talk.” He responded with a stern low voice.

Dream gulped and nodded in response. His brother was far from happy. With that Nightmare turned around leaving the trio behind.

Dream began showcasing their small bookstore so his newfound companions would be familiarized with the layout. He introduced them the areas where they could find snacks and beverages. As well as, showing them an area where they could nap if needed.

“Well I think that’s everything!” Dream smiled proud of himself for the tour he just gave. “I’ll need to talk with my brother but please don’t hesitate to ask questions if you need anything!”

Cross nodded and Dream rather reluctantly headed to where his “older” brother was located.

“So, what are we gonna do?” Killer stated his mouth already stuffed with snacks.

“Dude.. you’re disgusting.” Cross replied disgusted by his friend’s manners. “Anyway.. I guess we’ll stay a while. It beats staying out in the rain.”

“True, well I’m gonna go take a nap since you interrupted my beauty sleep earlier.” Killer smirked before heading to the designated sleeping area.

“Whatever.” Cross waved off his friend before heading over to some vacant tables. He sat down munching on some snacks. He couldn’t help but wonder why he was so interested in the golden eyed skeleton.

“Dream you promised me no more bringing strangers here!” Nightmare snapped at his brother. “You know what happened last time! The previous guys trashed the place!”

Dream avoided eye contact with his brother while holding his arm with his opposite hand. “I know... but they looked cold and it’s raining out there.. you know I can’t just ignore someone in need!”

Sighing Nightmare shook his head. Though he was proud his brother was a caring person sometimes he cared too much. “Fine fine. But the slightest trouble they cause I’m kicking them out.”

Dream beamed with joy and embraced his brother in a hug. “Oh thank you!”

“Dream you’re squeezing my soul right out of me!” Nightmare choked out.

“Oh! Oops! Well thanks again brother. I’ll be off reorganizing the store!” Dreams twirled around with a grin plastered on his face.

Nightmare gave a slight side smile watching his brother leave. Oh boy he sure had his hands full.

~~~

Minutes passed and Dream begun reorganizing the store. It mostly involved stacking new books where they belonged and ensuring that no books were misplaced. Unfortunately, do to his short height he couldn’t reach some of the top shelves as was the case now.

He stood on his tiptoes sticking his tongue out in hopes of sliding a book in place. After a few seconds of trying his hardest he gave up and sighed in frustration.

Unbeknownst to Dream a certain red eyed skeleton had been observing him.

Suddenly Dream felt the presence of a taller figure gently take the book from his hand and place it on the top shelf. Surprised Dream glanced back only to find himself face to face with Cross. “Ah..” a slight golden hue tainted his cheeks.

Time appeared to have stopped as the two gazed into each other’s eye lights.

“U-uhm thank you..” Dream’s voice trailed off as he realized he never found out what the other’s name was. “I’m sorry I never got your name.”

“Right.. name’s Cross.” He slowly backed away from the smaller skeleton. He couldn’t help but think how shorter the being in front of him was. It sure made him that much more adorable.

“Cross.. that’s a nice name! Say uhm I know it’s not your job but.. could you help me again? I have several books to put on the top shelf and well.. I’m not that tall..” Dream gave a slight pout hating the fact that he was shorter than most.

“Heh, sure kid. I don’t mind.” Cross smirked at himself. Wow, was he actually helping someone other than himself? He must be getting sick or something.

“I’m not a kid! I’m sure I’m older than you!” Dream exclaimed sticking his tongue out.

“Pfft!” Cross covered his mouth to keep himself from laughing. “Que tierno..” Cross whispered to himself.

Dream cocked his head to the side unsure if he’d heard Cross correctly. “Perdón..?”

Cross’ eyes shot wide open with his eye lights barely visible. No way, did he understand what he just said? A dark shade of purple covered his cheeks and he tried to hide his face within his hoodie. He wanted to disappear right then and their.

~~~

Nightmare was on the opposite side of the store ensuring everything was in its place. Usually both of the brothers split the workload in half. It made it less stressful and easier on the both of them.

There’s nothing that bothered Nightmare more than seeing books be misplaced. “Why is it so hard for people to put things back where they belong!” He muttered to himself. It’s not like it was that hard right?

Continuing to grumble to himself he failed to realize that a certain skeleton was in close proximity.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Ahh!!” Nightmare yelled and jumped before flipping the skeleton on the floor.

“Ouch! What was that for!” Killer exclaimed rubbing his head as he got back up.

“Oh it’s you..” Nightmare gave a distasteful look before returning to his activities. “I would say sorry but it’s your fault for sneaking up on me.”

“Fair point.. so whatcha doing bookworm.” The eyeless skeleton raised an eyebrow while leaning against a wall.

“Tsk.. don’t call me that.” The violet eyed skeleton glared at Killer.

Killer couldn’t help but be attracted to the fiery glow within those violet orbs. He’d never met someone with so much spark before it was rather inviting to him.

“You know, that’s kinda hot.” Killer winked at his smaller counterpart causing Nightmare’s cheeks to be tainted with a violet hue.

“You’re an idiot..” Nightmare turned his head away trying to remember what he was doing. He had to admit he was rather attractive but that’s all he had going for him it seemed.

“Maybe,” Killer shrugged. “But I was being honest. So.. you have a girlfriend, boyfriend, parent, love interest or anything?”

Nightmare was bewildered. He’d just met this guy and Killer was already flirting with him? He wasn’t sure if he was impressed or creeped out.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? I’m not obligated to answer that.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Killer shot him a sly smile. “You could’ve said you were taken and I would’ve backed off you know.”

The violet eyed skeleton rolled his eyes. What has he gotten himself into?

Killer!sans belongs to @rahafwabas

Cross!sans belongs to @jakei95

Dream and Nightmare belong to @jokublog

Sharing with @zu-is-here because their page is full of inspiration and positive vibes <3

Well this took a while to write! Had a bit of writers block and needed time off to make sure the story didn’t sound forced. Anyway here we have attempts at two skele-boys trying to flirt! I guess we’ll see if it’s effective! Fluff fluff fluff <3 thanks for reading!

Pinned Posts

Neon Ash Master Post

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Post by @musingsofmala · 1 image

💬 0  🔁 1  ❤️ 3 · Master Post of Neon Ash ·  Chapter 1 - Jesse Survived. Chapter 2 - Lira Cried. Chapter 3 - Jesse Slept. Chapter 4 - The

Character Descriptions

Oraka Brightmere

Oraka's story

(Coming Soon)

The symbolism in this one had me by a death grip. I could picture it so clearly in my head, and I like how it serves as a metaphor for unhealthy relationships. Ones where X takes too much and ends up hurting Y, which hurts X in turn. Or maybe a relationship where Y reacts poorly to love, and X is made to feel like a monster/guilty for it. But, that's just my intepretation.

I spit my teeth into your mouth

so I wouldn't bit your lip

and while your tongue led mine in an aggressive tango

all 28 of them slid down your throat

My canines catch

and rip holes in your esophagus

and my molars create a blockage

at the entrance of your stomach

When our lips leave each other

I grace you with a bloody smile

that stains my white blouse

and drips onto the tile

But my mouth closes when I see the fear on your face

and the pain in your breath

and as my hands meet your's at your throat

I am left with a mountain of regret

Ooo this has me so intrigued! I did not see that last part coming at all. /pos

Spooky Short Story in a Forest

"This is as far as I can take you." The man driving the taxi said as he placed the car into park on the outskirts of a lush forest. A forest that very clearly has a path wide enough for a car to drive on.

"What do you mean? Can't you drive through?" The man was looking out the car's windshield, he looked like he didn't want to deal with customers anymore.

"No. Cash or card?" He says it with a finality that makes me give up on my curiosity enough to dig out the needed cash and hand it to him. I pushed the car door open and as soon as I stepped out and shut the door, he started zooming away. I turn my head to look at the forest. Hiking my bag higher up on my shoulder, I start walking towards its entrance. When there's a will, there's a way, and I need to get to my hotel at some point today. With each step that takes me farther into the forest, my footfalls get heavier and the impact my feet have on the ground makes bigger and bigger clouds of dirt on the path. With each step, I feel a greater need to go deeper into the forest. The dense fog of leaves over the tops of the trees block the light of the sun, clouding the interior of the forest in a kind of darkness that usually only comes at night. I pull out my phone and use it as a flashlight, which doesn't prevent me from getting my foot caught in a root that grew in the middle of the path. As I lay sprawled on the dirty ground, I feel my resentment for the taxi driver grow, and now, with a bruised ego and a skinned knee, I decide to take a break. I pick myself up, walk over to a tree off to the side of the path, and drop to the floor with my bag. With my back leaning against the hard surface of the tree's trunk, I take a deep breath in. I let my eyes slip closed as I take a few more deep breaths.

"Help!" My eyes shoot open. There are quick footsteps pounding against the forest floor. A young man came from the direction of the scream. "Help!" I scrambled up off the ground, briefly forgetting how to use my legs. Following closely behind the young man is a larger man dressed in black. I quickly looked around for something I could use to defend myself, the only feasible option being a branch that had broken off of the tree I was resting at. It was about the same length and width of my arm, and when I picked it up it seemed to be as sturdy as a baseball bat. During my search, the larger man had knocked the young man to the ground, pinning him with black clad limbs. The young man was struggling to get away, moving this way and that like a mouse caught in a trap. I move as quickly and quietly as I can, stopping just behind the larger man. I raise the branch up high over my head and bring it down with every ounce of force in my body. There is no impact. The branch falls straight through the man's body, hitting and creating a dent in the ground.

"What?" I gasped, forgetting about being quiet. It doesn't take long after that for the young man's screams of terror to turn into screams of agony. All I could do was watch as a knife was plunged into the young man over and over again, creating a pool of blood that just got bigger and bigger. As the man's screams die out, both men start to become translucent. My mouth hangs open as they become more and more transparent until they're completely gone. Slowly, I turn my back and head back to the tree to grab my bag. There's a jack rabbit in my chest as a bend down. At the base of the tree, there's a name. Adam.

Your poetry is always so gorgeous. The imagery in this one sent shivers down my spine.

I miss when you were in the margins

of my class notes

Your name and mine

held together by a heart and a plus sign

I'd flip through the pages

and know that you were waiting for me

at the end of the hour

with your hands full of wilting wildflowers

you decided to pick up on your morning run

because you didn't know the difference

between alive and dying

Petals fell to the floor

during the trip from your hands to mine

and walking proves to hurt them further

as they shake and quiver in my hands with each step

losing a little part of themselves

the further we get

By the time we get home

there are no more petals left to save

and the stems don't stop their drooping

as we put them into the vase

Water doesn't help them

doesn't give them time

they just brown and fall further

but you take no notice

as you put them on a shrine

with other wilted wildflowers

This description is so gorgeous, oh my goodness. /gen

— Excerpt from The Taste of Hallowed Earth

I adore this. You perfectly took symbolism and imagery associated with the heart that would usually be framed as comforting, and distorted it in a way that gave me chills. This poem felt extremely powerful because of that, and I love the haunting imagery you've created here.

Cracks are in the molding of the drywall

where my fingers push in the heart

I'm tired of holding

The squelch it makes when it hits the ground

notifies me of my failure and makes my voicebox

attempt to imitate that horrifying sound

My knees slip in the flood of red from it's exit

And I fall in time with it's beating

Gorey giggles bubble from my mouth

when I end up landing face to face with it

Realizing that this is karma's dealing

Oooo omg this is so interesting! Your descriptions are so vivid and beautiful. I was entranced the whole time. I could just picture the world in my head, and the ending had me so intrigued. Also, this is one of my favorite types of plots as a trans man.

Some fantasy thing I am fiddling with

She made the decision that from this day forward, she would no longer be Astrid, a peasant girl of unremarkable stock with no discernible direction. Now she’d go by Aegir, the name of her cousin who had passed from the sweating sickness many moons ago. Father’s work as a farrier kept him busy with the horses, mules, and donkeys of traders, merchants, and lower-tier nobles that kept their manors and homes close to Lykkested, the capital of Álfarune the northernmost province of the kingdom of Upplond, and the family’s name had spread far enough for those to know his high-quality work. Whilst Mother worked to help the village women watch the children and brew the mead and dark, stout ale that the village had become known for. All the while, Astrid desired to join King Ragnar’s court as a page and then a knight—a path forbidden to her.

Skinny but strong, a girl on the cusp of womanhood who lacked the curves that defined her gender at this age. Much for the better, in her opinion. Astrid wore a close-fitting under-tunic against her lean chest, with another tunic over it to hide even further. A sharp, chilly wind, smelled of brine and distant adventures, whipped off the Rømskog Sea that ruffled her reddish-brown hair—cropped short beneath the pointed ears of her people, and she even pierced the left tip with a sharp needle and kept an iron ring it, a boyish fashion and something her parents were against but did not stop their strong-willed girl.

That day, with her mind made up, Astrid—now Aegir—announced that she was her lost cousin, at least to those who did not personally know her or her family, who did not pass away but only took some time to heal from the sweating sickness. Arming herself with an iron short-sword shoved into a sheepskin sheath gave her the look of a young boy just before the age of training and education.

Despite the chill of fall on the back of the strong wind, the warming sun still proclaimed itself as summer, even if late in the season. Astrid sat on the low stone wall that surrounded her father’s tiny parcel of land, his hammer still going, even this late in the day. The land of the Álfarune was as breathtakingly beautiful and hauntingly dangerous as its people, that she felt herself proud to come from. From the sapphire-colored, icy waters to the jagged granite peaks, worn smooth by countless ages of wind and snow, that pierced the sky and were called the Backbone of the World. To the deep woods, filled with both the mundane and the magical. Their ancient trees, gnarled from the ages, twisted like arthritic fingers; their shadows cast long on those who sought to be under the shelter of their leaves. Just past the outskirts of the hamlet were fields full of ripening barley, millet, and other hardy crops that could survive and grow in the brief summers, a familiar sight that acted as a balm to soothe the anxiety in her stomach. And even now, it helped bolster her decision to leave the hamlet for Blomma Castle, and under the darkness of nighttime.

After the successful escape from her parents’ hut as they slept, Astrid took a deep breath of the sweet summer night air—honeysuckle, juniper berries, and the ever-present damp earth—a deep, cleaning breath, the first of many as she pursued her dreams, which did not include an arraigned marriage to Jozef. Her slightly-upturned nose crinkled in disgust at the mere thought of it. With no time to waste, she took off toward the western road; the ocean was a shimmering silver under the full moon. Leaving the village required careful steps; a bit of luck, and no patrolling guards or their echoing steps behind her, as she escaped from the outskirts.

The worn leather of her fur-fringed satchel creaked as Astrid adjusted the strap, its weight a familiar ache across her chest. A night-hawk cried overhead; its sharp call sliced through the subdued hum of the wind that rustled through tall sea-grasses. A shiver, born of the chilly wind and of apprehension, traced its path down her spine; she was young, undeniably so, and despite looking like a boy, was very much a tempting target in these lands, however safe they might be.

High in the inky sky, the moon, a pearl about to dip below the horizon, cast long shadows like darkened fingers. Between the trees, a faint, flickering light shone through—a tiny, defiant flame against the vast, dark forest. The crisp night air allowed the aroma of wood-smoke to linger, which mingled with the rich, savory aroma of roasting meat; her stomach growled, a low rumble against the evening. Who, she wondered, was cooking at this late hour?

****

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I like the description! It gives a good mental image of what it sounds like.

Man, trying to write a lisp is hard. I don't want to do it phonetically, since it can come off as ablist or what-have-you. Trying to mimic an interdental lisp

In a husky, throaty voice and plosive language gave her speech an aspect that she popped bubbles with her words. “I’m Kaylie King,” the young woman replied. “I’ve been in contact with Mrs. Hawke. She said that she wanted to meet me in person. At ten-thirty on the sixteenth. Today is the sixteenth, sir.”

Ooo. I'm excited to see that too! I hope you manage to get a new laptop!

Happy storyteller saturday! What are you most looking forward to writing in your current WIP?

Currently I'm most excited to just be able to continue my writing in general, gotta get a new laptop or spend my writing time on my partner's PC.

As for specifics though, I'm super excited to continue writing the intricacies of Jesse and Lira's adventure through life together! I have a few vaguely planned ideas but nothing super concrete yet!

Ooo I loved this! It gave me the chills. It felt so visual to, I could just visualize each scene.

— An extra-narrative writing exercise based on my work, The Taste of Hallowed Earth

Actually being a little guy? Nah. Little guy status is all you need. /lh

I'm late but happy world building wednesday! Any favorite animals who've created or modified for your story?

I'm late to answer, as always xD

I think the massive spiders in The Poison Complex, or maybe the radiation squirrels that are still really jumpy like they're not the size of rabbits and as fast as a cheetah. They still have little guy status. In my heart.

Love the idea of having a diary for a character, and this is so beautifully written!

5/2

The death of winter is the birth of spring. There’s a certain melody to spring that I can’t quite capture. Is it the hum of the insects leaving their hiding spots I’ve not yet found? The chirps and caws of the animals greeting the still frigid morning? Or could it be the wind that no longer bites at my skin with a deathly cold but instead carries new life: seeds. The scenery is foreign to me now. I had grown used to the blank, muted world, where only the orange from the flames in my hearth broke through the colorless world. Spring comes every year, and yet, I grow no less used to this continuing cycle of life. I am always surprised by the way life continues after tragic deaths.

This book had sat on my desk, untouched for months. It had gathered a thick layer of dust. I stared at it many nights, knowing I had much on my mind. Still I did not write. I have grown comfortable speaking in my own head. Holding the pen is uncomfortable, the ink drips in the pages as I hesitate with my words. I will write, and need to practice what I am not used to. Before I had learned this skill I was ashamed of my incompetence. And yet, having now learned, I find many excuses not to write. My friend would find this humorous. I know that very well. But I love to see his laugh.

MY HEARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT! That was so precious. You could just feel their history together, and now they're gonna be together. 🥺 Glad they had a time to relax and talk, even if they'll need to have a deeper discussion about it later down the line.

The compound sounds so cool! The descriptions you gave were great. It really feels alive like Jesse said, and you can just feel the activity buzzing with in. It'll be interesting to see how Jesse and Lira integrate into the compound. With their skills, I imagine they could be a great help around the place.

I also already love Maive, and Veyra always makes me smile. She's definitely one of my favorite characters now, though of course I adore Jesse and Lira.

Chapter 7 - Comfort.

The room was quiet, save for the soft crackle of a candle burning low on the far table. The air was warm, still, and heavy with the scent of wax—faint, but unfamiliar enough to remind them they weren’t home.

Jesse stirred first, her eyes blinking open against the dim orange light filtering in through a covered vent. For a brief moment, she forgot where she was. Her muscles tensed on instinct until the sound of soft breathing from the next bed grounded her again.

Lira.

Jesse turned her head, watching as Lira lay curled under the blanket, her hair slightly tousled, lips parted as she breathed slowly. She looked younger like this—less guarded, less ready to fight the world with her fists clenched.

Jesse sighed and let her body relax fully for the first time in what felt like days.

Eventually, Lira stirred too, eyes opening just enough to catch Jesse watching her. “Morning,” she mumbled, her voice rough from sleep.

“Or… whatever time it is.” Jesse gave a sleepy smile.

They sat in the quiet for a few beats longer, neither rushing to move. It was the first moment they’d had where survival wasn’t the immediate priority, and both of them were reluctant to break it.

Then Jesse sat up slowly, stretching her arms over her head. “So this is peace, huh?”

Lira nodded, rubbing her face. “Feels weird. Not fighting for once.”

Jesse gave a soft laugh. “Maybe we should get used to it. At least for now.”

Lira rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she shook her head. “No, it’s probably best we don’t get too comfortable yet.”

“I guess you’re right, but we could at least take this morning slower than normal and just relax… right?” Jesse asked, her voice almost pleading with Lira to slow down and relax.

Lira’s expression softened as she laid back into the bed again. “We have been going pretty hard… I guess one morning of peace and comfort isn’t the worst.”

Lira stood up and grabbed Jesse’s shirt, admiring the softness of the fabric before tossing it to her. “Put this on though, we should at least get comfortable with the new area.” Lira turned to give her friend a hint of privacy as she felt a blush rising up on her cheeks again.

Without hesitation, Jesse nodded and pulled on the shirt, the shoulder’s dull ache a calm reminder of what they had been through. As soon as her chest was covered, she stood and walked behind Lira, pulling her into a tight hug.

The sudden pressure of Jesse’s chest against her back made Lira jump and blush even more.

“I-I…” Lira stammered, her voice wavering.

“Don’t worry, Lira, just relax with me. Whether it’s in this room or out there, we’ve got each other’s backs.” Jesse squeezed Lira tighter and smiled, resting her head on Lira’s shoulder.

The two sat in a comfortable silence with Jesse holding her close, Lira’s head leaning to the side and resting on Jesse’s.

Then, a soft knock on the door, the sound of knuckles rapping on the metal before it slowly creaks open, Veyra poking her head around the corner. “I trust you two are…” Veyra’s eyes widened softly as she looked at the gentle scene, “oh good, you’re getting along just fine.” She giggled and stepped into the room fully.

Lira blushed even further, but Jesse couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Come now, you think I’m not used to seeing this kind of thing between two obvious lovebirds?” Veyra asked, smiling softly.

Lira was speechless, her jaw dropped as she looked down at Jesse.

Jesse’s eyes shone beautifully in the candle light and Lira couldn’t help but relent and nod. “My question is how long Jesse has felt this way…”

Jesse giggled and shrugged, finally managing to peel off of Lira’s back. “It’s been a little while…I could feel it brewing since the moment you walked into my life.” Her voice was dripping with sincerity, soft and calm. “I’ve liked you for a long time now… longer than I wanted to admit.”

Lira chuckled softly, trying to mask how flustered she had grown.

“Seems like you two are ready to explore the compound now,” Veyra smiled softly, pushing the door open the rest of the way.

Through the cold metal door frame, they could see a much warmer view of the rebel compound. There were still groups of people speaking even as the evening became night time.

Before the two walked out together, Lira whispered in Jesse’s ear. “Looks like we’ve got some talking to do later.” With that, they stepped across the threshold together, taking confident strides as their hands brushed against one another, sending a jolt of white hot connection through the two.

The cool night air hit their skin like a wave of ice water.

The sound of conversation had picked up slightly, growing more focused on the two of them.

One woman stepped forward from her group, offering a hand to both of them. “You two must be Lira and Jesse,” she said, her tone calm yet curious. “I’ve heard you’re planning on staying just the two of you. If you change your mind, you’ve got my support.”

The woman who’d greeted them had short, choppy hair dyed deep violet, and a jacket covered in stitched-on patches—most of them worn so thin you couldn’t make out the words. Her hand was calloused but steady as she shook both of theirs.

“I’m Maive,” she said, her voice carrying that quiet steadiness of someone used to surviving rough places. “Been here a while. Helped Veyra set up some of the security protocols. If you need help finding your footing, I’m around.”

“Thank you,” Jesse replied, her voice softer than usual as she tried not to shrink under all the attention. Lira stood slightly ahead of her, clearly taking the lead again.

Maive gave a reassuring nod. “You’ll be fine. People around here talk a lot of shit, but most of them mean well.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Come on, I’ll walk you around before they start asking you questions.”

The compound wasn’t a bunker so much as a repurposed skeleton of an unfinished underground transit hub. Graffiti and torn banners hung from exposed steel beams, and faint techno beats leaked from some unseen speaker system deeper in the compound. A few people nodded to them as they passed, eyes lingering just long enough to feel noticed.

There was a corner with crates stacked high—supply cache, maybe weapons. Another hall smelled strongly of spice and broth—mess area. Someone had built a makeshift garden under industrial grow lights, rows of leafy greens taking root in salvaged plastic tubs.

“Don’t expect comfort in the corpo sense,” Maive said, leading them through a dim corridor lined with mismatched doors. “But you’ll eat. You’ll sleep. You’ll have people who watch your back.”

Lira slowed near the garden, curiosity flickering in her expression. “You grow your own food here?”

Maive nodded. “Some. The rest gets traded or stolen. Depends on the month.”

Jesse trailed a few steps behind, eyes wide. This place wasn’t just a hideout—it was alive. Worn-down and stubborn, but real.

When they looped back toward the main chamber, Maive paused and gave them a final once-over. “There’s a war coming whether you join it or not. But if you do—” she pointed back toward the candlelit hall, “you won’t be fighting alone.”

Jesse giggled and nodded. “I appreciate it, Maive. We appreciate it.”

Lira nodded slowly, still taking in all the wonderful things around them and unable to hold back a smille.

It's so sweet that Veyra can already tell the connection those two have, lowkey calling them out by saying they can share a bed if they want lol. I feel the found family growing, and I can't wait to learn more about Veyra. Plus see Lira and Jesse's relationship develop more. I wonder how they'll realize their feelings.

I'm all caught up now. So glad I found this story, it's awesome and you're doing a great job with it! The descriptions in these latest chapters were so good.

Chapter 6 - Hope.

“Good. Now, try to follow my exact footsteps.”

Veyra didn’t wait for a response. She turned sharply and slipped deeper into the alleyways, her steps quick and deliberate. The path she led them down was a maze—twisting turns, tight corners, low-hanging wires. The girls followed close behind, hearts pounding, stepping where she stepped, careful to leave only one trail in the mud.

The neon glow behind them faded with every turn, replaced by dim streetlights barely clinging to life. Eventually, they reached a part of town untouched by the usual buzz—no ads, no corporate banners. Just shadows, whispers, and the occasional flicker of a broken sign.

Clusters of people were gathered around makeshift tables, voices low, eyes sharp. Every conversation seemed to stop and start again with passing glances. It wasn’t chaos. It was control.

Lira and Jesse kept their eyes fixed on Veyra as they followed, her stride unbroken as they passed table after table. Some were groups of men, others women, all casting glances that cut sharper than the silence.

Each group radiated the same quiet tension—alert, wary. They recognized the newcomers, not from introductions, but from whispers and headlines. Two women whose defiance spoke louder in one night than the entire movement had in months.

“Don’t mind them, dears,” Veyra called back, her voice smooth and disarming. “They’re just admiring your passion—and the power of your voices.”

Lira met a few gazes head-on, pride swelling in her chest. For once, the attention didn’t feel like a threat. But Jesse shrank instinctively behind her, trying to disappear into Lira’s shadow. Her pinky tapped out its familiar rhythm against her thigh, each step syncing with the pulse.

tap… tap… tap-tap… tap…

Finally, after what felt like an hour in Jesse’s skin, Veyra stopped at a heavy metal door set into the back wall.

“This is where you’re welcome to stay.” She motioned to the door with a tilt of her head.

Lira stepped forward, pressing her palm against the cool steel and giving it a push. To her surprise, it opened easily.

Inside, the room glowed with flickering candlelight. Two beds sat side by side, neatly made, as if they’d been expecting them all along.

“This is… much cozier than the apartment,” Jesse murmured, eyes scanning the warm shadows. Then she looked back at Veyra, nerves creeping back into her voice. “And if we don’t agree to join… what then?”

Veyra’s gaze dropped. “Then I’m afraid you won’t be welcome here. You’d both be on your own… in a city that wants you dead.”

Lira grabbed Jesse’s hand, squeezing it softly as they locked eyes—a silent conversation worth a million words passing between them.

Veyra smiled at the bond they shared, whether or not they realized it.

Just as the silence stretched too long, Jesse finally spoke. “Then I guess our best shot at seeing this city reformed is with you.”

“Oh good,” Veyra giggled, clapping her hands together with sudden warmth. “I didn’t want to send you out of here after what you’ve been through today. Now, make yourselves at home and relax. You can use one bed or two—your choice.”

Veyra slipped out, the door shutting softly behind her, leaving Jesse and Lira in a welcome silence.

“So… this is our life now, huh?” Lira said, giving Jesse’s hand another gentle squeeze.

“Yeah. Really living the dream,” Jesse chuckled, a small smile forming at the corners of her mouth.

“What do you wanna do first?” Lira asked, voice somewhere between caution and wonder.

“I could go for a nap…” Jesse yawned, pulling off her jacket and tossing it onto a hook.

She padded over to the bed, peeled off her shirt, and flopped under the covers with a sigh of relief.

Lira smiled as she watched her, a light blush creeping up her cheeks. Eventually, she rolled her eyes and joined her, flopping onto the other bed with a quiet huff of contentment.

This is getting so exciting! I can't wait to see wherever Veyra wants to take them. And also who else is on her team. It sounds intimidating, though it's definitely one of the few chances they have at safety.

Though I am a little confused when it comes to Veyra's description. She is originally described with white hair, and then dark hair. You may want to clarify for readers.

Chapter 5 - Mysteries.

They followed her at a distance—neither too close to spook her, nor too far to lose her in the crowd. She moved through the market with the kind of grace Jesse only ever saw in dancers or predators. Her coat was long, matte black with subtle electric-blue threading that shimmered like circuit lines when it caught the dim light. It didn’t match the worn, chaotic energy of the market; it was too clean, too calculated.

Her boots struck the ground with purpose, soles silent despite the grit beneath them. Jesse noticed the way people seemed to part for her, even without realizing it—like their instincts warned them to keep a respectful distance. She wasn’t just any local.

Lira leaned in close to whisper, “She’s not armed—at least not obviously. But look at her posture. Center of gravity’s low, hips slightly forward… Combat trained.”

“Military?” Jesse murmured.

“More likely corpo security. Or worse—ex-corpo, off-leash.”

Jesse kept her eyes fixed on the woman’s hair—a sharp, asymmetrical bob dyed white-blonde, the ends faded into an unnatural cyan that pulsed faintly under the neon signs. The back of her neck was bare, save for a glowing datajack with an old corporate logo burned into the skin like a scar that never fully healed.

She’s not hiding where she came from, Jesse thought. She wants us to know.

The woman glanced over her shoulder once—just once. Sharp eyes like twin razors. No surprise, no fear. Just confirmation.

“She knows,” Jesse whispered.

Lira nodded grimly. “Good. Makes it easier to skip the lies when the shit hits the fan.”

The woman chuckled, a soft sound that felt oddly out of place against the sharp edges of her presence. “Hopefully the only thing blowing up is going to be Omnigen, dears.”

Jesse tensed at the name. “I assume you’ve done your research?”

“Of course I have. Can’t go scouting for new team members without knowing exactly who you are.” Her voice was calm, clipped, like the decision had already been made for them.

“Team members?” Lira’s tone sharpened. “We tend to fly just the two of us. Not sure how well that’s going to fit into your little operation.”

The woman didn’t flinch. “Oh, I don’t expect that to change. Omnigen—and every other corpo snake—has eyes on you. If you suddenly had backup, they'd double their security before we had a chance to strike.”

They trailed behind the woman through a narrow alley choked with rusted fire escapes and neon reflections bouncing off puddles. The city’s usual noise faded to a distant hum, replaced by the sharp clicks of the woman’s boots echoing against the damp concrete.

Jesse quickened her pace just slightly, stepping closer. “So…who are you exactly?” Her voice was soft yet eager, the corners of her mouth twitching with the hint of a grin. “I mean clearly you know us, it feels kinda unfair not to know your name.”

The woman glanced over her shoulder with a half-smile. “Call me Veyra. That’s all you need for now.”

Lira stayed behind them, eyes sweeping over rooftops, windows, any reflective surface. She didn’t like how quiet this part of town was—it wasn’t abandoned, just… too still. “And what exactly do you want with us, Veyra?” Her fingers flexed, itching for the comfort of something familiar—like the spray can she kept clipped to her belt.

“I want what you want,” Veyra said simply. “To burn the rot out of this city. But if we don’t get smart about it, we’ll die trying.”

Jesse furrowed her brow. “I assume that means building a team?”

Veyra nodded slowly. “A decentralized cell. One no one can pin down. You two are ghosts—they’ve already spun stories about your ‘terrorist ring.’ Let them think it’s bigger than it really is.”

Lira narrowed her eyes. “You’re talking like you’ve already made the decision for us.”

Veyra stopped suddenly, turning to face them fully for the first time. In the dim light, Jesse could finally get a better look at her—mid-thirties maybe, sharp cheekbones, a jagged scar bisecting her left eyebrow. Her hair was dark and cropped close, her leather coat having seen more years than it should have. But her eyes… her eyes burned like dying stars.

“I’m talking like I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been breathing,” Veyra said. “But I haven’t survived this long by forcing people into fights they don’t believe in.”

Jesse tilted her head, intrigued. “Then why us?”

“Because you started something.” Veyra spoke calmly, eyes flicking from Jesse to Lira. “And because you don’t look away when the world bleeds.”

Lira folded her arms tightly. “That’s not a compliment. It’s a death sentence.”

Veyra didn’t disagree.

She simply shrugged, a faint smile creeping across her features. “And yet here you both are—following a strange woman who has a very obvious corpo past.”

“We don’t exactly have a better option,” Jesse replied, her voice firm and muscles tensed. “The apartment’s compromised, and we don’t have many alleys or markets to hide in.”

Veyra smirked, sensing the tension in the air. “Your apartment never was truly. Omnigen already knew exactly where you lived. They let you stay there to lull you into a false sense of security—until you started making too much noise. They wanted to scare you into submission, stop you from joining something bigger. Like my team.”

Lira clenched her fists at her side, her voice was ice cold. “And who says we’re joining your damn team?”

“I didn’t say you were,” Veyra said calmly. “I just figured I’d show you a place that’s safer than your busted apartment or the middle of a protest about to be gunned down.”

Lira and Jesse both froze, stealing a glance at each other.

“That…does sound like a better deal than just hoping we don’t catch another bullet.” Lira said, her voice an admission of guilt and defeat that Jesse had never heard before. Softer, more willing to submit to Veyra’s words.

Jesse watched carefully, unsure what scared her more: the bullets, or the tone in Lira’s voice.