The Guardian of Negativity, sometimes called the King thereof.
He's one of the coldest, meanest beings in the multiverse.
So..why does he suddenly have small footsteps scurrying around the house?
Nightmare Sans story. I do not own Nightmare Sans or...
The person singin' the Twelve Days of Christmas must be a bird enthusiast; their true love gave 'em 224 frisking birds-
Because apparently the golden rings are also a type of bird and we have been lied to-
True love must be the owner of some bird emporium or somethin'-
Note: the time correspondance in these shorts is likely not on-par with the main story, and I'm not sure if I ever specified specific times, so..please enjoy this.
The events are ( at least mostly) canon to the Christmases, however, and each short takes place a year after the previous one.
Also have a picture I drew of each prompt I'll be uploading :3 can you guess them all (pretty easy ngl)?
It was a lil' rushed since I decided halfway through that I wanted to post it here..but that's okay!
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Me, casually uploading the night before because I can't wait:
Comments are welcome and appreciated!
Please enjoy!
~~~~~
I had adopted my son a few months ago, and Killer was happy. The lovely month of December had descended upon us, and Christmas was right around the corner; Killer was excited. The orphanage he had previously lived in hadn't celebrated any holidays, only giving each child a piece of candy and leaving it at that; I intended to do things the right way for Killer, and that involved spending time with my son. Overworking wasn't something I did often, but I knew how to tip the balance ever so slightly as to give myself a bit more personal time; I had done so yesterday, and I now had a few days to spend exclusively with my son. December was a busy season for my job due to all the happiness and general joy, but I would make do with what I had. I had decided a while ago that I didn't want Killer to celebrate the holiday just for the toys and gifts, which was why I was going to show him the more relaxing aspects of the season.
"I'm cold." Killer shivered, holding onto one of my legs closely as we walked.
Perhaps a walk in the park wasn't the best idea for the end of autumn, but it had still been pleasant in the beginning. I had bundled Killer up fairly well, in my opinion, but I supposed that the cold was just too much; I had a lessened sense of temperature, with my goopy exterior.
"You'll get used to it after the first few weeks." I assured. "Would you like to ride on my shoulders?"
"Y-yes, please." Killer nodded.
"All right, up you go."
I lifted my son with a couple tentacles, and he landed safely on my shoulders, enjoying the warmth offered by hugging my goopy skull. Our walk continued for a short while longer, until Killer expressed his desire to go home; with the temperature's dropping, I decided that it would be best. I took my son back home, and I set him on the living room couch to better take his jacket off. After I had put it away, he shivered once again.
