"you Poor Thing.... Look What They've Done To You- For A Group Who Call Themselves Heroes They Do Forget

TWST Pokemon AU Part 1: Heartslabyul

I saw @twsthoodstar​‘s Pokémon au posts (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3) and was inspired to do my own.

Be sure to check out their blog. They write several crossovers. 

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HAPPY VALENTINES DAY GUYS!!! Have some cute cards of the cuties~

Boys are from @bonelyheartsclub

He is absolutely a lil' shit, and we love him for it.

"Never gonna give you up" Plays on the decepticon war ship on loop for a week in Primeverse, who bails? Who suffers through it? Who goes nuts? Who tries their best to fix it? And Whos the one who started the mess?

((Oh sweet Primus this is amazing.))

Who bails ship: Starscream, Airachnid, Knockout

Who suffers through: Dreadwing, Megatron, Soundwave

Who goes nuts: ST3-VE, Laserbeak, G4RY, Breakdown

Who tried to fix it: Soundwave

Who started it: Bumblebee

((Because we all know Bee is enough of a lil’ shit to do this))

(((ST3-V3 = Steve/Vehilcon #1; G4RY = Gary/Vehilcon #2)))

~~Ohma~~

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑!𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐗 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑!𝐘/𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

if u want to be tagged, then send an ask bc i somehow already have a taglist for this 🐥

the tag for this series will be #streaming dreams

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@justanotherotaku1102, thank you sm for commissioning Skull from the coffee shop AU being a loveable boye 🥺 he is Everything

---

This wasn’t your first attempt at dough. You felt increasingly, though, like it was going to be your last.

It was the very early morning, at your coffee shop, sunshine was already peeking through the windows of the kitchen. 6am... you’d already set up the cafe for the 7am opening, machines cleared and prepared, cutlery and dishes cleaned and ready to go, food out in the display cases. You and your only employee were now just cleaning up, preparing for opening- you’d felt like you had enough spare time this morning to attempt some baking.

...

You probably would’ve been better to just throw the ingredients straight in the garbage.

You had no idea what it was. It seemed like you were cursed, or something. You really thought that by now, you’d be able to successfully manage something as basic as a bread dough- you were hoping that your time around your professional baker suitors would’ve meant that some of their prowess would’ve rubbed off on you. Sans’ ability to craft the most intricate and incredibly delicate pieces, Red’s magic touch with even the most complex pies, surely you’d pick up some skills?

You really hadn’t.

... You stepped away from the oily, sticky mess on the countertop in front of you, fingers caked in mixture. You were getting unreasonably frustrated over some fucking bread dough... looking at your wasted work, you felt choked up and angry.  

...

“... struggling?” Skull asked.

You looked over your shoulder at him. He was by the oven, big eye quietly observing you... you could see why he used to scare you so much. But right now, Skull was the only person who could talk to you without you exploding. A softspoken giant with a gentle temperament, he was a baker by trade- he had been here in the kitchen since at least 4 in the morning, making the pastries and cakes that decorated the shelves of your cafe. Stars knows you needed him, given your absolute dogshit baking skills.

He had been quietly watching the whole time. You knew he had. You bit back frustrated tears, smearing your sticky hands over your apron- “Yes. I’m giving up.”

“... the dough?”

“Going in the trash.” You choked. “Where my cooking belongs.”

“... can i... see?”

Skull didn’t like food waste. Any kind of food waste. You deflated... suddenly feeling bad for talking about throwing it away. Some of the anger dissipated.

“... Sure. You can try and save it.” You stepped back from the sticky mess of oil, flour, water and yeast. “Do what you want.”

... Skull moved over. He walked slowly, with a gentle lean, like one side of him weighed slightly more than the other... he stood beside you at the countertop, looking at your ‘work’. His jagged face meant he preferred to spend his days at the cafe hidden away in the kitchen, cooking while you handled customer service. He was at his happiest when making something.

He stared at your mess.

...

“jus’ needs... more flour.” He mumbled. “and... kneading.”

“I can’t knead.” You said, dejectedly.

He glanced at you.

“... show me.”

You looked up at him- you didn’t know why he wanted you to show him when he’d probably seen your sad and frustrated kneading attempts earlier. But you did as he asked, moving back in front of the bread. He had said more flour, right? You took a handful of flour out of the bag and generously dusted your terrible creation. You pressed your hands into it... doing the closest you could get to the method you saw in videos and on TV.

...

Skull moved behind you. And suddenly, his huge hands were on either side of your own. 

You froze; wait, he was standing behind you? So close, too... close enough that you could feel the warmth coming off him. Your heart thudded- what?

His chest gently bumped your upper back.

“here.” He said softly, breath ruffling your hair. His big, scarred hands reached forward...

... And took yours in his own.

You clamped your mouth shut to stop the tiny squeak from escaping you. You felt like you were being swallowed, and you didn’t dislike it. He smelled like cinnamon. Skull guided your hands patiently- he angled your palms, and helped you push the dough, the ball of your hand first. His precision and experience was clear with the smoothness and direction of his movements... and on top of that, he knew exactly how gently to hold your tiny human hands.

“... push n’ roll.” He said. “s’that simple. don’t worry... bout speed. people who... knead fast... have been doin’ it for years.”

You could hear your heart in your ears, now. You’d seen this guy lift up your fridge with one hand, so he could sweep underneath it- you knew the feats of strength he was capable of. And yet, he somehow held your hands like they were glass, while still applying enough pressure to guide them. 

You tried your damndest to concentrate, to make the most of his clear expertise. Push and roll. Push and roll...

...

... And... oddly enough, not fussing about the bread too much because you were constantly thinking about Skull’s slow breaths tickling your scalp and his massive arms around you, you found you were robotically performing the motions he was guiding without your usual overthinking. It only took a few moments for you to realise you were actually kneading the dough. Properly.

... A swell of pride in your chest, and a little smile on your face. Maybe you weren’t cursed after all?

“... there we go. you got it.” He murmured, affectionately, almost right up against your hair. The way he said that, him murmuring so close, his deep voice through his chest... you were kinda glad he was behind you, he couldn’t see you blushing. Would he catch you if you fainted?

“R-Red kneads fast.” You managed to get out. He kept kneading with you.

“he’s showing off.” Skull said, disapprovingly.

You couldn’t help but snort. The dough was starting to take on a smooth, flawless texture. “And Sans?”

“probably... can’t make bread. bread’s not... science enough.”

A warm laugh escaped you. For a moment, you could’ve sworn Skull paused- but not too long.

... Skull was right about the bread. I mean, of course he was. But it was still nice to see your mistake gradually turning into something that would probably look alright in the oven. With some flour, and some kneading, it more and more resembled an object that could soon become edible. Your efforts (and the ingredients) weren’t totally wasted.

Skull finally took his hands off yours... placing them on the counter. You immediately missed the warmth. But you now had, before you, a lovely silky-looking ball of dough.

“... Then it proves. Right?” You turned, looking up over your shoulder at him. Even though he’d taken his hands off yours he didn’t take his hands off of either side of you. His big, warm eye stared down at you.

“... mhm. ‘bout n hour.” He tilted his head. “want... me to prove, and bake? since... you’ll be... busy.”

“You trying to put a bun in my oven, Skull?” You teased.

...

Skull’s eyelight widened. And his whole face, just like that, flooded with an ultramarine blue.

“u-uh.”

...

You made yourself smile, despite your furious embarrassment and burning face. You moved to the side- he took his arm off the counter, letting you slip out from his enveloping personal space bubble.

“I-I should go wash my hands and open the store.” You blabbed, smearing your hands on your poor apron again. You’d need to grab a replacement, no way you could greet customers like this. “Would you like another coffee before the doors open?”

He nodded, dumbly. “... m... mhm.”

You scurried away, desperately needing a moment to cool, so your cheeks weren’t on fire when people started coming through the door.

...

Skull, alone in the kitchen, busied himself with readying your bread dough for proofing- trying to find a way to distract himself, and stop the loud purring that had immediately started filtering out of his chest once you were out of earshot.

ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙ-ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡɪɴꜱ!

Thank you! 😭💞💞💞 I’ll be adding more onto it eventually but for now these should be all if not most of the important details! If you or anyone else wants to add on or give ideas go right ahead!! 💞💞💞

A Twst sci-fi au that is inspired/is in an among us like universe.

Ok, I think I got everything? @minzart

There are still imposters and humans. However the non-human characters in twst are still their respective races. Our Savanaclaw boys are still beastmen, Octavinelle still mermen/merpeople, Diasomnia still (mostly) fae/fey, you get the idea.

Well, not exactly.

In this au most of our twst boys are imposters (you'll find out why not all of them are imposters in a moment). I'm going for a kind of uncanny valley vibe where they do look like humans/beastmen/merpeople, but aren't actually that.

Anyway.

Imposters can take the shape of other races without issue and doing this is their natural way to live. Some have take certain preferences to which race they mimic, which has given the imposter race unofficial 'subspecies'—nicknames really—called beastmen imposters, mermaid/mermen imposters, and even fae or fairy imposters. Most of the time, when an impostor chooses their first form to take, they don't change it again. (This explains why our twst boys still look like themselves, and if for one reason or another they need to look like someone/something else, they can just shift back)

One of the few things that is different from an impostor and their mimicked (e.g. who or whatever they have mimicked) is that their eyes' sclera—if their current form has eyes—will always be black.

Nobody knows where the imposters came from. It is suspected that they simply boarded a ship that had landed on what was thought to be an uninhabited planet, and spread out from there. The first know reports of them were received from a number of different ships within the timespan of a few days to a few weeks.

All imposters are incredibly smart, it's what let's them blend in with the crew on a ship and not get caught. Nowadays, if you encounter an imposter on a ship—whether or not you realize it—it is more than likely that they are not new to traveling within a group of other races.

Thankfully, imposters don't eat just humans. They can, but usually it's only the particularly hostile imposters that do. Those kind of imposters are usually a little less than sane (none of the twst cast fall into this category, don't worry) or absolutely starving. They can eat other kinds of meat as long as it is raw, if they eat cooked meat it can make them nauseous.

Like when choosing a form to take, each imposter has a preference for what food they eat. Some will prefer raw steak and others prefer fish, it's unique to every imposter.

Most will try to avoid eating crew members, ever since the imposters snuck onto the ships they have figured out that as long as they don't eat any of the crew, they more than likely won't get caught.

Imposters tend to either travel alone or fall into groups of 2 to 3, however there are exceptions to this. If an impostor or imposters are... docile enough, they can and/or will adopte other kinds of races into their group.

Despite most imposters being relatively peaceful, their less than good first impression left them with a (metaphorical) bright red label on their name marking them as extremely dangerous.

Due to this, most people who are in a position of power have aimed to catch and experiment on at least one imposter. With the main goal of trying to weaponize them.

The impostors are not only in danger of getting thrown off a ship through the air lock, but also in danger of getting kidnapped by officials of the Galactic Empire (or whatever is running the show here is called) to be experimented on.

This is where Yuu and most of our non-imposter twst boys come in.

It is their job to make sure that the impostors don't get snatched and weaponized by official hands. They are apart of a group that prioritizes their safety, however, if they know an impostor can handle a situation they don't step in unless it is absolutely necessary.

It was founded by someone who wanted to protect the imposters (or at least those who deserve it) from an undoubtedly horrible fate. No normal citizen knows about the group, only the Galactic Empire's officials and people who deal with mostly illegal business do.

The Galactic Empire ever-so-fondly calls the people apart of the group I.N.2

Imposter Number Two.

The difference between a normal person and an I.N.2 is their pupils. I.N.2's, due to having two (screens/chips/contacts/etc.) implanted into each of their eyes, have white pupils (because why not? :p).

These implants let an I.N.2 see how dangerous an impostor is or can be. At the edge/corner of their vision numbers will show up when they are looking at an imposter, showing things like how dangerous they are and how hostile they are.

(At some point I'll draw what the eyes for imposters and I.N.2s look like, it'll probably soon lol)

(I'm still debating if I want magic to be a major thing or not. I'm mostly leaning towards having magic still exist, but it can only be used in small proportions for select people–unless it to someone's unique magic or it's people like Malleus and Lillia who are both fae and very powerful. Sebek might also be adapted to using magic, just not nearly as powerful as Malleus or Lillia, but better at it than most people with it. Imposter or not, if someone has magic then they have magic I guess?)

Here is a list of our cast:

Riddle - Imposter

Trey - Imposter

Cater - I.N.2 - Human

Ace - Imposter

Deuce - Imposter

Leona - Imposter

Ruggie - Imposter

Jack - I.N.2 - Beastman

Azul - Merman

Jade - Imposter

Floyd - Imposter

Kalim - Human

Jamil - Imposter

Vil - Imposter

Rook - I.N.2 - Human

Epel - Imposter

Idia - Imposter

Ortho - Mechanical/robot Imposter

Malleus - Imposter

Lilia - I.N.2 - Fae

Silver - I.N.2 - Human

Sebek - Imposter

Reblog if you have ever:

Failed a class

Eaten Nutella by the spoonful

Committed arson

Been caught dancing wildly in the mirror

Watched Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse past the age of 12

Pulled an all-nighter

Broken a bone

Out-Pizza'd the Hut

Sent hate but not on anon 'cause you ain't no coward

No one will ever know what you did.

Zillow house listings

Thank you @thats-one-cool-dude for this commission, inspired by itsxroxannex's amazing art. Nothing quite like Nightmare himself <3

---

... You were in a dream.

The realisation hit you, the moment you became aware of yourself and your surroundings. Ironically, it felt like you had just ‘woken up’- snapping back to reality. But you couldn’t have been more conscious of the fact that this reality wasn’t yours.

You still felt like you were dreaming. Partly. It was hard to think, there was still that signature disconnect between your head and your body. And yet... you could feel things you didn’t normally feel in a dream, sensations that were usually either muted or entirely gone. Was this what lucid dreaming felt like? You'd never been able to do that before. You’d never woken up, and immediately known with every fibre of your being that you weren’t really ‘awake’.

... You looked up. There was a small table before you, draped in a spotless white cloth, and decorated by a single lit candle. Very gentle piano drifted through the air, jazzy and slow, like you were in the middle of a nice restaurant... two chairs pulled up on either side of the table.

... Someone occupied one of the chairs.

He was a skeleton. A tall skeleton, his bones were slick and dark, bluish black as a midnight sky, with the faintest iridescent sheen like the shimmer on a bubble or an oil spill. He looked as if he were made of tar. A clean smile of ice white teeth... one eye, a powerful, electric cyan blue, the other socket covered by that same tar-ish substance.

... He was wearing a suit. You didn’t expect that. A nice suit, it outlined him well, it made him look well-proportioned and tidy. Somehow, the liquid of his body didn’t stain the white cuffs or collar. Dream logic? You had no clue.

Were this any other situation, you probably wouldn’t have reacted as... calmly. But because you were in asleep, your mind felt far more forgiving of the bizarreness of the situation. Sure, a skeleton with inky bones and one glowing eye was waiting for you at a table set up like a date. Why not? You'd had weirder dreams.

That, and...

... Well, his face looked so... gentle. He simply stared at you, with a low smile, like you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. The candlelight flickered against him... he had a nice face. Strong curved cheekbones, a pretty defined jaw. His skull was handsome in a regal, timeless sort of way.

Your cheeks felt hot.

“ah. finally.” His voice was silky, low, and dark. Very pleasant to listen to, and exactly the kind of voice you expected to hear from a creature that looked like him. “i thought you’d never sleep.” 

... You looked down at yourself. You were dressed for a date- an outfit you definitely didn’t normally wear. 

“... come on, now. don’t be shy. i’ve been waiting for you.” He said, sweetly, patiently. “come sit with me.”

...

Well. It was just a dream, right? So you had nothing to lose. You shuffled over to the table, sitting down opposite him. His grin lifted, the flickering candle played with the shadows on his face... the gentle piano continued.

“i’m sans.” He shifted his elbows onto the table. The black parts of his suit, although it was clearly fabric, very faintly had the same iridescent sheen as his bones. “don’t worry, i already know your name.”

“... You do?” You asked. Was that something you needed to worry about?

He chuckled. The sound was handsome. “of course. it’s only a dream, right?”

“... Oh. Yes, right.”

Remembering that this was a lucid dream gave you a strange sense of... confidence. It made your chest puff up a little, it brought your hands out of their curled position on your lap, the anxieties you usually always carried finally melting off. Warm confidence flooded your system- he was right. You didn’t have to be embarrassed, or scared, did you? This was your dream, wasn’t it? You could do whatever you liked. Man, lucid dreaming was great.

‘Sans’ gained a slight twinkle to his beautiful blue eye. He kept looking at you like you were everything- it was making you feel warm. Important.

“i know it’s a boring question. but do tell; how was your day?”

“... Slow.” You replied. He had such a nice face. This was a nice dream. “Very slow.”

A knowing look. “sometimes a slow day is better than a frantic one.”

... You let out a little laugh. He leaned a fraction closer to you. “Yeah, I guess. I’d take a slow day over the kinds of days I normally get.”

“what would a normal day be, for you?”

“Like you said. Frantic.” He had instantly put you at ease. His dulcet tones, his impeccable sense of dress, his gentle aura... despite the fact that you were having a conversation with a skeleton, it felt like you were talking to an old friend. “I work a lot. Then on my few days off, it feels like I’m so exhausted I have no energy to spend on anything other than recovery. It sucks.”

“i think you aren’t alone in feeling like that. today is far too fast-paced.”

There was suddenly a wine glass in front of him. And in front of you, too. An expensive-looking bottle beside the candle, in the middle of the table- Sans picked up the bottle, offering it to you.

“shall i pour you something?” He asked, invitingly.

... You paused. “I... don’t really know if I should...”

“come on now.” He purred. “it’s a dream, right? you won’t have a hangover. when will there ever be a better time to have something to drink?”

“... Pft.” You felt... kinda silly for saying no. “Oh, alright then. I guess you’re right.”

Sans grinned. He poured you a generous serving, the liquid was a beautiful tyrian purple, and once he stopped pouring the candlelight in the wine made it appear as if your entire glass was filled with ruby. He filled up his own glass as well. It was good wine, too, it was exactly to your taste.

“... What is this, by the way?”

“... wine?”

“No, this.” You gestured around. “Are we on a date right now?”

“of course.” He placed his glass down and chuckled. Sans had such a warm gaze, despite the cold blue colour of his eye. It almost looked... adoring? He hadn’t stopped staring at you since the moment you woke up in this dream.

“Why?”

“because you’re wonderful.” He knitted his fingers together, using them as a cradle for his head. The ends of his phalanges looked sharp. “and i think you deserve a good date. none of those terrible, thoughtless outings you’ve been on recently.”

“How do you know I’ve been on dates?” You asked, but teasingly, drinking a bit more. Of course he knew, this was your dream. His eye flickered to your lips as they touched the rim of the glass, but they returned to your own eyes so fast you couldn’t tell if you really saw the movement at all.

“those fools don’t know what they’re doing. who tries to take someone back to their parents’ house on a first date?” He looked like he still couldn’t believe it. “despicable.”

You snickered at that one. Who wouldn’t?

“They weren’t so bad.” You said, softly. “Rough around the edges, sure. But they meant well.”

He leaned a little closer again. Every time you laughed, he seemed unable to stop himself from drawing nearer. The space was getting more and more intimate.

“you’ll realise how terrible they were when i show you how good dates can be.”

“I’m sorry, but...” You traced the rim of your glass. “am I going to get any more context on who you are? Or are you just too mysterious?”

“i’m nobody important.” He said, reaching the wine bottle across the table again and refilling said glass. “i haven’t any ulterior motives, dear, if that’s what you’re afraid of. i just want to get to know you.”

... You liked the way he said ‘dear’. It made you feel warm again. You swirled the wine around the glass, admiring the strange colour- huh, funny. Even though this was a dream, you could still feel that familiar sensation of being tipsy.

“... This is nice.”

“yes.” He murmured, gazing at you through a lidded socket. “it is.”

“I don’t really want to wake up.”

His eyelight flashed.

“... now. don’t go saying things like that, dear. someone might think you’re serious.”

///---///

You woke up with a lovely, soft, cosy feeling. Right down to your core. Far from your usual stuffy, too hot/too cold awakenings, the bed felt like a pair of arms around you- a comfortable pair of arms that made the thought of just closing your eyes and slipping back to sleep again all the more appealing.

...

You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling. Morning light was seeping through the curtains; as nice as it sounded, you couldn’t really go back to sleep right now. The day was starting.

... You could almost still taste the wine. You almost felt like its fuzzy warming effect was still thrumming through your body. And, in your mind’s eye, you could still see him- looking at you, smiling, like you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“i just want to get to know you.”

...

... Sans, huh?

///---///

“hello again, dear.”

The same feelings of ‘waking up’. The same knowledge you were dreaming. And, when you opened your eyes... the same skeleton in front of you.

No suit, this time. Just normal clothes, all toned as black as his bones, sharing his faint iridescence.

... This dream wasn't set at a table. It was on a sunny street corner, in a musical-looking city, bright blue sky and quaint cafes surrounding you, bicycles and colourful pedestrians and trees on every inch of available pavement. People busied past both of you, like you weren’t even there- like there was nothing strange about a large, ink-black skeleton holding the hand of a bewildered human.

... Holding your hand. You blinked, looking down... his midnight claws were entwined with your fingers.

You looked back up at his face. “Sans?”

He grinned, evidently delighted you recalled his name. There was so much you didn’t know, in his eye, so much he understood but you didn’t.

“surprised to see me? i said you i’d take you on more dates, didn’t i?”

Yes. You were very surprised. It took you a few moments to gather the words, mouth opening and closing again, dumbly.

“... I-I just... it was a dream.” You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. “My dreams don’t normally...”

“repeat?” He squeezed your hand gently, brushing his thumb over the back of your palm. “perhaps they do. perhaps they just weren’t worth remembering before now.”

You flushed at the casual touch. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“well." He tilted his skull. "are you the good kind of surprised, dear?”

Again, yes. But you didn’t seem to need to say it, judging by the delighted softness his smile took on.

“... Where are we?”

“you're so cute. paris.” He replied, amiably. “i took the liberty of finding the nicest looking side. it’s a charming city, certainly... but not all of it is this pretty.”

“... I never thought I’d...”

“... be able to go?” His voice was a disarming, lulling purr. “i told you. i want to take you on real dates. we can go anywhere you want- anywhere at all. time and distance are no issue.”

“Why?”

“i said so before. i just want to get to know you.”

... You looked around. At the beautiful streets. You could hear people talking, smell baked goods and coffee. It was so romantic... so unlike anywhere you’d ever been.

...

“Could... we go somewhere high up, when the sun goes down?” You asked. “To see the lights?”

... A small laugh left his chest. Like your question had an incredibly obvious answer.

“... of course we can.”

///---///

Sans, whoever he was... he was quickly becoming a staple of your life. 

He kept his promise. He took you on dates. Wonderful ones, hopelessly romantic ones- strolls through starlit woods, picnics on hills overlooking the ocean, scenic boat rides through canals and rivers alike, city tours that felt so impossibly vivid and real despite the fact that your feet never ached. Various delightful places across the world you were certain you’d never be able to visit in your own reality. 

... Sans was charming. Charming in a sophisticated, cultured way, he had that lifted air to him that made you feel so important when he seemed to so much enjoy listening to what you were saying. He spoke sweetly, he was effortlessly funny, he knew precisely how to make you unwind. He already knew more about you than most people in your life.

Though you still knew nothing about him.

You’d never been so well-slept. Your dreams were starting to become your favourite place. Why wouldn’t they? Nobody in the waking world treated you so kindly. There was nowhere else where you felt so consistently cared for, listened to. If you ate together, you would wake up not hungry anymore. If you drank, you would feel the faint buzz even after your eyes opened. 

... And you always felt warm.

...

You hadn’t researched Sans until now. There was just... something that felt prying about it? You had no reason to think that way. Today was the day you were going to try and find out something about your nightly visitor.

... It was worth researching. Dreams that recurred that often probably had meaning, right? 

A few google searches wouldn’t hurt.

///---///

You saw him again the next night. Because of course you did.

... It was a much simpler setting than usual. Sans usually took you to places that would take your breath away... here, it was just a park bench in a flower garden. 

“morning.” He said, with a teasing lilt to his voice. “how was your day?”

You sat down beside him. Your heart was starting to beat faster. “... Could I talk to you about something?”

He paused. Only for a moment. It seemed like... he could sense your apprehension.

“... oh. of course.”

“I... did some research today.”

A flicker of something in his face. He covered it quickly. “the fun kind of research?”

“Research about dreams. And nightmares.” You fiddled with your hands, looking anywhere but him. “It took some digging. But I found something eventually. Old legends, really old, about a being that can enter people’s minds while they sleep and influence what they dream about. A skeleton with black bones.”

...

“... interesting.”

“... A lot of stuff was different. Like... tentacles, ‘evil’ energy, making people have night terrors so bad they’d give themselves insomnia to avoid sleeping. But, I mean... a skeleton with black bones that enters people’s minds while they sleep?”

... Sans had gone quiet. You glanced at him.

“Are you... uh... are you ‘Nightmare’?” 

...

As you held his blue eye, a strange sensation fell over you. 

It was like... you had come home, and a door you were certain you left closed was wide open. The feeling of staring into a room and knowing, just knowing, there was someone in there that shouldn’t be there. 

An interloper. 

His face... suddenly didn’t look quite as inviting.

...

Had he always been that big?

...

“i see.” He said, softly.

...

Then you were awake. Staring blankly at your ceiling.

You didn’t feel warm. Not at all.

///---///

It was a normal dream, at first. A busy room full of people you didn’t recognise, a nonsensical list of reasons you had to be there that only made sense because your higher thought functions were locked away. Your head felt as though it were stuffed full of sand, and you had little care in the world aside from the base anxieties your brain was projecting onto the scene before you. A test, a missed train, you couldn't even recall.

A normal dream.

...

Something in the corner of your eye flickered. A shadow, moving the wrong way.

...

Just like that, you were aware.

The hair on the back of your neck prickled, the faces around you blurred and unfocused. You felt... singled out. Alone. A real person, in a room full of mannequins.

... You could tell he was there. You'd had enough dreams with him to know when he was nearby. But you couldn't see him- you turned around, only the rest of your dream behind you. But you could feel it... he was in there with you.

"... Sans?" You said.

... Nothing.

Your voice wobbled. “Are you... are you there?”

Silence.

...

“Nightmare?”

“no.” He said, softly, right in your ear. You jumped- it sounded as if he was standing behind you. “do not call me that.”

You didn’t turn around. Something told you there was a reason he was remaining out of view. “... Why did you disappear?”

He hissed. “i never wanted it to be like this.”

“Like... this?”

“it should’ve stayed a dream. it was never meant to be real.”

...

Your gaze dropped to the floor. The carpet, a product of your sleeping mind, repeated itself over and over.

... You suddenly felt... stupid. For a lot of reasons- but mostly for letting yourself feel hurt by that. 

What did you think was going to happen, getting so attached to a random guy in your dreams that did little more than take you on a few pretty looking dates and say a few sweet words? All he had to do was feign interest in what you said, and you were like a fish on a hook. Idiot.

You wanted to wake up.

...

Hands pressed against your shoulders.

“ ... that’s not what i meant.” His voice was a lot softer, suddenly. Softer than you'd ever heard it before- softer, even than your 'first date'.

It was your turn to not respond.

“dear.” It felt like he wanted you to turn around, now. You didn’t. “i promise that’s not what i meant.”

When you spoke, your voice was sullen. This was the end of your nice dreams, wasn't it? “... What else could you possibly mean by that?”

He didn’t let go of your shoulders. “i... it was...”

... Him needing a moment to speak... it didn't exactly cheer you up, but it made you return to the moment a little. It made you listen. You were so used to him knowing exactly what to say at any given moment, silken words coming so easily- the fact that he needed time to gather his thoughts made what he was about to say seem a bit more genuine.

“... the waking world is so complicated.” He finally said. “dreams... are the escape. i didn’t want this to be complicated.”

...

“... Complicated.” Your tone had significantly eased. He wasn’t wrong. Things had definitely become more complicated, as soon as you brought the real world in. 

“i wanted to see you.” His hands moved, from your shoulders to your torso. “i wanted to know you, but i didn’t... want you to have to think. i just wanted to be a dream, for you, someone you could escape to. i wanted to be a good dream for once.”

You didn’t reply. He was convincing. But you didn’t even know if you believed him.

“... don’t wake up.” He murmured. You felt his face press to the back of your head... his arms tucked around your middle.

“I don’t know if I can trust you.” You said. “I don’t know anything about you.”

“i didn’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“Should I be?”

“no.” Instantly, breathlessly. Like he couldn’t believe you asked that. “no, of course not.”

...

You sighed. 

“What’re you willing to tell me?”

“whatever you ask.” 

... It was an interesting way of wording it. You didn’t miss the specificity- whatever you asked him, he would answer. But volunteering information seemed beyond him for now.

“we should go somewhere. to talk.” He offered. “where do you want to go?”

You paused.

...

“Well. How about... somewhere you want to go, this time?”