A Step In The Right Direction | Nightmare x Swap | Platonic Fluff

51 1 1
                                    

Requested by nightmare_sans on AO3

-----------------------------

Given the situation. Post-truce, at peace, his group stayed with him. Nightmare's group. Sure none of them had jobs anymore since 'peace and stuff', as Dust labelled it. However they were all still thankful to Nightmare for giving them a purpose, yet the man still couldn't accept that. He wasn't a good person, but he was different to them, even if he didn't realise it. Teaching Nightmare to be 'good' would be no easy task, that's why none of them took it on, either because they couldn't be bothered, or because they genuinely believed it to be impossible. Great negativity still poured from the castle. And yes a fair balance must stay put, but even then with Nightmare in his current state, he saw very little reason to leave the castle, eat, drink or do anything. Each of his group took turns making his food, coffee, bringing him water and making sure he was alright. He had no obvious way to turn. Either break the truce, angering his group. or stay, annoying himself and then. It felt like there was no way to turn. For he saw himself doing no good. Which may not be entirely false, however there were things he could do. And one person was determined to show that.

Swap, dubbed 'Blue' by those who knew him. Traditionally taking the role of a 'Papyrus', one of which Nightmare never had, it was hard for him to understand his sheer optimism. Even when he tried to look past his negative shell, he would always attempt to show you that you were better, even if you were going to die. Each time he did it to Nightmare in battle, especially towards the beginning it never worked, but on the 10th, 20th and however many more times it happened, Nightmare found himself hesitating a few times. He remembered Dream. Dream was more like a Papyrus without the undying loyalty to pure optimism to the point where it was detrimental. Dream could be stupid sure, but sometimes Swap's felt as though he was blissfully unaware as to the danger he was in. It's not a surprise his original counterpart is often associated with bravery, even if the bravery mentioned is most of the time because they aren't aware of a threat. The obvious part aside, Swap had been attempting to speak to Nightmare every day for a week straight, and if he got in, Nightmare never let him in. But most of the time he didn't get in. His group looked out for his safety.

This truce was less about destroying negativity and more about forming a balance. It was impossible to have a natural balance due to how extreme Nightmare's aura was, although it had noticeably calmed down, especially since he allowed Killer to have his soul formed into a heart. Without the constant fuel Nightmare had less to feed off of, and thus grew weaker. He could still kick anyone's - including Dream's - ass easily. But especially his aura had weakened. The castle did still radiate dread, and that wasn't going to change. As the time ticked towards 3pm Nightmare sighed, resting his elbows upon his desk. It's the first time he's really stepped out of bed in days. Normally laying there and not doing anything. He had just bathed and had dried himself and put new clothes on. As to how he washes his clothes is complicated, but it does happen. Regardless, it was now the time when in around 15 seconds he would hear Swap knock on his door - if he makes it in -. He counted to 15 in his head.

... 13. 14. 15- KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. Perfect timing. Nightmare was thinking about shrugging it off. He didn't really care for the blue creatures feelings much. However him doing this every day would annoy him, and his group more. So, for the first time, he spoke to Blue. "Come in." 

Blue wasn't expecting that at all, starting to prepare to leave again, but he held his head high, and opened the door, walking in. The room had a negative aura but that was obvious. Other than that the room was a mess. Nightmare didn't have reason anymore. He didn't have any reason to clean up after himself. He had no image to hold. He was just some coward leader who submitted to a truce that he didn't really want to. So as a result he just stopped. As mentioned, hardly getting out of bed. Essentially letting he and his room rot. Sure he did bathe and put some fresh clothes on this morning, but that was from a sudden urge to do so that he himself couldn't explain. It's not that he wanted to, he just felt like he had to.

Sanscest Oneshots | Bored Lmao | Requests OpenWhere stories live. Discover now