nightmare

I’m just tired lmao, hit me up if you need anything, i’ll be on my main writing some slice of life, drabbles, and occasional plot updates. 

Drink water, take care of yourselves, remember what matters. 

“I tried, Night! I tried to help you! I tried to stop them, but I wasn’t strong enough!” Dream chokes out. That despair was starting to get to him…

“I wanted so badly to save you from what they did, but I couldn’t! I couldn’t protect you and I’m so, so sorry!” Tears were starting to fall. He couldn’t focus, he couldn’t find who he was looking for… Not yet anyway…

His whole body is shaking. But it’s not from fear… No, he’s not afraid of his brother… It was grief. No matter how long it had been he would always grieve over what his village did to them, to Night especially. Dream still has that faint hope that somehow he could revert the effects of the black apple…

But now it really seemed pointless.

He watches the sword move up, ready to swing down on him. His eyes fall close as he concentrates one last time.

A moment later he feels the blade slash him deeper this time. His eyes flash open as he staggers back, bow vanishing from his hand. Both hands come up as he begins to cough and choke, more golden blood seeping through his fingers. He starts to fall forward, finally grasping onto that last hope he had, the last person who could help him.

Just before he hits the ground, he vanishes.

“Sorry won’t do anything here. What use are words.” He spits, glaring into those pools of blood. 

He should feel rage, at letting his brother slip away, but no. He feels a sort of satisfaction. It’s very possible to kill him, he knows that. He came very close this time. 

Next time he’ll just have to do it again. If Dream survives and doesn’t bleed out. But oh, it was nice watching him suffer for a moment. 

He’ll enjoy it next time when this song and dance happens again. 

All those awful emotions… It feels like he might crumble under the weight of it all. His hands shake as he raises his bow again, another arrow already set. He still has hope… Somehow he still holds onto it, even if this really might be his end.

“Night… Please… You don’t have to do this,” he said, grip tightening.

This can’t be it, can it? Maybe if he can focus he’ll be able to find him and get to safety. He just has to stall a little longer.

The arrow is loosed again, aiming for Nightmare once more. Even if he doesn’t damage his brother he just has to slow him down.

“And the people in the village didn’t have to do any of the shit they did to me, but guess what brother of mine? They still did. Maybe it was fun, but hell, times have changed.” It was true, no longer was he weak of will, no he knew what he wanted and he can finally get it himself. 

“You’ve been a damn thorn in my side.” He hisses, knocking the arrow out of his way. He doesn’t even slow. No, he had one goal and if this was taken away he’ll do more to tear everything in his path apart. 

“I’ll finally be rid of you. I fucking hate you, you know? You’re a pain, a nuisance, a fucking obstacle. And now I’ll finally get you out. Of. My. Way.” 

Dear Dream, it shouldn’t have been like this. But if anything, blame your mother. Blame your village. Blame the circumstances that led up to this outcome.

“Goodnight, Dream.”

“i wasn’t gonna kill her right away. i like to play with my victims a little, heheheh.”

He tries his best to avoid the sludge and liquid despair, yet some of it manages to splatter on him. They weren’t very big spots but they were enough to burn.

Dream lets out a hiss as he keeps up his attacks, but stops when Nightmare suddenly vanishes from view. Golden eye lights dart around seeing no sign of him until he hears a sound behind him.

His sockets go wide as he sees the blade swing down at him. This time it’s his turn to vanish, but not unscathed. Gold ichor coats the blade…

Dream was hit.

He reappears out of Nightmare’s range, hand pressed to a bleeding wound across his chest. The same golden ichor seeps between his fingers and drips from his mouth. He had to get out of here and soon. Somewhere that Nightmare couldn’t reach him.

He laughs, a cruel sound of pure glee, twisted elation, and a taste of satisfaction. Good, good, he sure hope it hurt. It’s only the beginning if he can keep a good hold on the other.

Vengeance, is on the mind. Hate and anger and disgust at his brother. It’ll be good, and when it was over.

Well, free reign without a pesky annoyance to stop him now and then huh?

“Delicious, come now brother, don’t run. I’ve been looking forward to this.” If only he had the power to lock the timeline, preventing people from getting in or out. Unfortunate. But maybe one day he’ll figure it out. 

For now, the remaining blasters converge on Dream, jaws open and dripping, some preparing to blast those legs off. And Nightmare? He was making his way over with confident steps, blade resting on his shoulder, a trail of golden blood following him.

As soon as the arrow drops he jumps back, watching as the blasters are summoned to aid Nightmare. When they start to attack he dodges, doing his best to put as much distance between him and his brother.

He nocks another arrow, this time firing at the blasters. Each attack was a risk, but the more he would reduce his enemies numbers, the better chance he had. A few times he even aims for Nightmare, trying to incapacitate the source of the blasters’ strength.

“I’m not as weak as you think! I’ve taken you out before and I can do it again!” There was his hope shining through again.

The Nightmare follows, frenzied with a mad shimmer in his eyes. Troublesome prey. But it’ll be worth it. It’ll be worth it.

Each arrow he sees and steps aside to avoid them, or throws up a wall of sludge to block the path. Each of his blasters gnash their teeth and vomit the all consuming dark energy at Dream, clinging on to their purpose until they quite literally break apart. 

He can keep this up. The fear and despair and all encompassing grief he consumed is far stronger than what little hope remained. He laughs again, knocking another arrow out of his way with an extended tentacle and disappears into the smoke and haze. 

Dream is his antithesis, someone trying to deny a losing battle. Someone so up in his delusions and so goddamn disgustingly hopeful. What is there to hope for here? The world they stand on lay in ruins, an empty, dead world Nightmare saw fit to settle for a bit. 

He laughs, catching the arrow in his hands, ignoring the sting of light against his palm before watching it extinguish and drop, useless on the ground.

“You’re weak, brother of mine. That is truth.” He says, raising his hand and summoning a group of wretched blasters, firing them in the direction of his brother, hunting him as he fled, and he himself took chase, fury, rage, and genuine excitement in his eye.