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usermischief · 7 months ago

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♚ Pairing: Sterek ♚ Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale ♚ Tags: canon divergence, getting together ♚ Words: 2883

ao3

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Stiles narrows his eyes. “Satisfied? Or do you need my social security number too?”

Still, Derek stays silent as he looks at him. It’s not particularly comforting – that is, until his gaze drops to Stiles’ mouth then flicking back up again, a slow smile curling around his lips.

Stiles’ heart jolts in his chest, and he clears his throat. “Delighted my trauma amuses you,” he mutters, disregarding the fact that he continues to make jokes about it as well.

“Delighted I don’t have to kill you.”

---

Click.

Cursing softly under his breath, Stiles flicks the light switch up again. Down. Up. Down. Up. “Fucking hell.” Stiles massages the bridge of his nose. His stupid light. Everything else – even exorcising this damned place – worked out beautifully. Which is a miracle. Thanks to the residual demon, who infested this place after the previous owners fucked around – and found out – with a Ouija board in the late 50s, this house has been in a nightmarish state. Every inch of this place was a deathtrap. Rotten wood. Broken stairs. A ceiling, roof and second floor so unstable, a gust of wind could cause everything to collapse in a heartbeat.

Stiles spent more than one night in a tent in front of the house.

A bark cuts through the silence of the house, startling him out of his thoughts. Drawing his brows together, he looks past the stubborn ceiling light to the second-floor landing. The puppy he’s found under the house, white fur crusted with dirt and blood – aptly named Bobak, Bo for short – and who has refused to leave Stiles’ side ever since he fed him for the first time, is staring at him almost expectantly. Although some dog owners most likely won’t be happy about his lifestyle – flipping and clearing out haunted houses and constantly moving around – Stiles refuses to give Bobak away. Bo might not be the cuddliest or most social of dogs, he still makes Stiles’ life less, much less, lonely.

Bo barks again.

Stiles quirks a brow. “What? It’s not dinner time yet.”

Wagging his tail, Bo bounds down the stairs, nearly tumbling down the last two steps. He catches himself, jumps up the front door once before all but flying around Stiles’ legs then, finally, making a mad dash out of the backdoor and into the yard. There, he keeps zooming around, causing colored leaves to fly into the air, and barking his adorable little head off, too big ears fluttering in the wind. He’s going to miss Bo’s floppy ears once he’s grown into them.

Before Stiles can follow him, there’s a knock on the door. He glances up at the clock, narrowing his eyes once more as it passes the current bane of existence – maybe he should just get an electrician this once – and turns to the front door. It’s not late, per se, but darkness is setting in, and people are still keeping their distance to this place. So, he isn’t usually expecting anyone to swing by, even less since his closest neighbor lives around a mile away, but the person he never imagined to come over is Derek Hale.

Drawing his brows together, Stiles swings the door open.

“Hey.” Derek’s smile seems strained. To be honest, he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else – not unlike the first time they met at the only diner in town. Well, met might be stretching it. That day, Derek couldn’t finish his lunch fast enough, even Sally was surprised by his precipitate behavior. So much so, she commented on it while serving Stiles his food.

He had chalked it up to Derek sensing something about him the same way Stiles clocked him as a werewolf the second he laid eyes on him – aside from noticing that the guy is a walking and talking Calvin Klein advertisement. Instead of avoiding him, however, Derek kept showing up all over the place. It seemed accidental, but Stiles has dealt with enough supernatural creatures and grew up with a sheriff that he can recognize stalking behavior when he sees it.

Derek’s never been lurking around here, though.

Well, not until today, that is.

And Stiles’ heart is having a field day with it, which is rather unfortunate with Derek’s supernatural hearing and all.

Stiles manages to clear his throat about thirty seconds into the terribly awkward silence. “Hey.” He sounds like an idiot. He feels like one too. “Can I- do you-” Bo interrupts him with a slew of excited barks, zooming through the hallway and back out again, sending more leaves flying around; it gives Stiles a few seconds to gather himself. “You wanna come in?”

“I bought dinner,” Derek says at the same time.

They both stare at each other, and the silence makes Stiles’ neck grow uncomfortably warm.

Luckily, Derek cuts it short. “I’d love to.”

Stiles steps aside and gestures for Derek to come in. This is happening. He’s not entirely sure how or why, but it is, and Stiles is not about to complain. The last time a hot guy walked into his home was – when? Stiles doesn’t really remember. Which is sad, honestly. Sure, he’s been aware that both his social and love life have sailed off a cliff once he started dictating his life to ghost and demon hunting, but now, watching Derek stroll into his kitchen, he realized for the first time how bad it’s really gotten in the past four years.

“Looks good,” Derek remarks, almost curious in the way he’s taking everything in. “You did an excellent job keeping the old charm alive.”

Crossing his arms, Stiles leans against the large doorway leading to the kitchen. “You’ve been here before?”

Derek shrugs as he puts the bag with the takeout on the dinner table. “Teenagers and haunted houses.”

“Werewolves too?”

If Derek is surprised that Stiles knows, he doesn’t show it. Instead, an almost cheeky grin curls around his lips. “Werewolves especially.”

Stiles snorts and crosses the room. “I expected you to be smarter.” He glances at Derek, smirking briefly, and steps in front of the only cupboard he uses. The good thing about moving around so much is that he never collects any clutter. As a teen and college student, things looked very different. Two boxes, a couple of suitcases and his backpack fit into Roscoe anyway. Now that Bo is traveling with him, he’s got to figure out the new logistics.

“How’d you do it?” Derek asks as he takes the two plates from him.

Their fingers brush, either on purpose or entirely accidental. Stiles doesn’t know, but the touch sends a tingle through his whole body. A good tingle, great even, and Stiles hates to realize how touch starved he really is.

Stiles opens the fridge, scowling a little as he’s greeted with emptiness. He really needs to go grocery shopping. “Very carefully,” he replies and grabs two bottles of beer. “And lots of research." Once he's figured out where to look, finding pictures of old houses isn’t that much of a struggle. Often, he meets the previous owners, who either think he’s suicidal or are very happy to help.

Derek watches him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “The demon or the house flipping?”

“Ah.” Stiles sets the bottles on the table and leans against the edge. “That’s why you’re here.”

Derek merely watches him, eyebrows climbing higher as his expression turns more and more expectant. An alpha after all. He’s probably used to people jumping at his command.

It might be fun to let him stew for a little longer. “You know, you could’ve just asked.”

“I just did.”

Stiles snorts out a laugh, “I meant ask me about why those werewolf senses are tingling whenever you’re around me.” He cocks his head to the side and decides to put himself out there, for once, “unless, of course, there are other reasons for that.” He’s got Derek in his house already and considering that he leaves as soon as it is sold, there’s no harm done, no awkward darting around each other needed in case he’s rejected. Two months tops, and he’s out of this town, where everyone knows everybody, and nothing ever stays secret.

Derek’s lips twitch.

Good. So, Stiles didn’t exactly imagine the lingering looks whenever they, clearly not entirely accidentally, ran into each other absolutely everywhere. In a town with less than 100 people, it’s impossible to hide anyway.

“Tingling?” Derek echoes, more amused than in disbelief.

Stiles lets his head fall back, watching out of the corner of his eye as Derek’s gaze drops to his neck then back up again. “You’re a poor conversationalist.”

“And you’re dodging the question.”

Stiles clicks his tongue, rolling his head to the left to look at the werewolf again. “Geez, D, you can’t just ask people why they’re making you feel weird.”

A flicker of annoyance dances over his features, either at the nickname or his refusal to give him the desired reply. Still, Derek props his hands on the table and leans closer, one eyebrow raised. “I can if I consider them a danger to my pack and territory.”

Fair point.

However, “I literally exorcised this fucking demon.” Although nobody has died in this house in almost a decade, Stiles considers it future deaths prevented.

Derek taps a finger against the table, allows red to bleed into his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles pushes away from the table and faces the werewolf, arms crossed firmly in front of his chest. Although Derek didn’t outright threaten him, Stiles is fully aware that this evening could easily turn into his last if the big bad alpha considers him too dangerous, which would very much be the exact opposite of how he’d prefer this evening to go. He sighs. ��I was possessed by a nogitsune when I was sixteen.” Stiles doesn't miss as Derek’s expression return to stoic, listening, waiting. He sees the way his shoulders tense, the way something in his eyes shift, ever so slightly. The moment of truth, always and forever. "It did some weird shit with my body, cracked my mind like an egg, hence the whole-” he waves his hand around. “Thought I could do something good if I can pierce the veil, you know?” It makes him feel less guilty about the shit the nogitsune did while using his body like a meatsuit.

But that’s something nobody else needs to know about.

Derek straightens.

Stiles narrows his eyes. “Satisfied? Or do you need my social security number too?”

Stiles’ heart jolts in his chest, and he clears his throat. “Delighted my trauma amuses you,” he mutters, disregarding the fact that he continues to make jokes about it as well.

“Delighted I don’t have to kill you.”

“You think you can kill me?” Stiles chuckles, playing pretend. Dealing with demons is one thing. They’re very capable of murder, more so than ghosts, but depending on their strength and rank, they need time – time to get into your head, time to fuck with you. They have to chip away their target’s defenses. Knowing and being prepared for a demon makes dealing with them a lot easier. Plus, if he’s learned anything from his own possession, it’s how to keep things out of his mind. Werewolves are a different beast entirely. If they want someone dead, all they have to do is pin them down and rip their throat out.

Derek pushes away from the table and all but stalks closer to him, narrowing the small distance the table offers. “Of course, I could.” He runs his fingers along the edge of the table. It’s one of the few things Stiles could repair from the old furniture, so, luckily, Derek keeps his claws in check.

Stiles swallows drily and rips his gaze away from Derek’s hand, locking eyes with him again. “Awfully confident there, buddy.”

His words are met with a near predatory glint in the hazel eyes. Beautiful hazel eyes, at that. Easy to get lost in.

Focus.

“You don’t scare me.”

Derek stops directly in front of him. They’re nearly chest to chest, and although Derek isn’t necessarily taller than him, Stiles feels weirdly small. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but the way he is holding himself, the way he is looking at him – as if Stiles is a rabbit cornered by the big bad wolf. Red bleeding into his eyes accentuates the whole predator predicament.

Fucking werewolves, seriously.

“Cute,” Stiles comments anyway, uncrossing his arms and straightening his shoulders and spine. “Still not scared, though.” They’re probably both aware that’s not entirely true, but he’s never been someone to back down from a challenge. “You gotta do more than creeping around in the bushes and stare at me with your alpha eyes.” Especially since the latter is actually pretty damn hot, which isn’t exactly helping the situation.

“I’m not trying to scare you,” Derek informs him in a casual yet amused tone.

“Really? Could’ve fooled me, big guy.”

Derek chuckles, letting his head fall forward as he does so – and Stiles can’t help but watch his mouth move. It’s fascinating. Every time he’s seen Derek, the guy has been scowling. Stiles didn’t think he could chuckle, much less laugh.

Fuck, he’s pretty.

Beautiful even.

His heartbeat picks up when Derek locks eyes with him again. “You’re not very attentive.”

“Oh, really?” Now, that is just plain rude and so uncalled for. “How do you think I’m finding these demons? By paying very close attention to details. So, I am attentive. I’m actually the most at-”

Derek kisses him. No ifs. No buts. No hesitation. He just does, and his lips are so soft and warm, their touch makes Stiles’ stomach twist with anticipation. Derek moves his hands and cradles his cheeks, thumb tracing a slow, ever so gentle line along his skin. All of Derek’s hard edges are replaced by something tender and raw.

Stiles’ heart stutters in his too tight chest, and his mind blanks, every single thought swept away by the warm lips pressed to his own. He melts against Derek, pressing closer as he curls his fingers around Derek’s bicep and his eyes flutter shut. A soft, almost helpless sound escapes his throat as a warmth floods through him, followed by a kind of ache Stiles doesn’t quite have a name for. They both settle deep inside of him, spreading into every part of his body. His entire body lights up with a want he hasn’t felt in what feels like forever, a need for closeness more than just desire.

When Derek pulls back, Stiles moves with him, desperate to hold onto the kiss just a little bit longer.

Derek regards it with a soft chuckle, his warm breath ghosting over Stiles’ lips.

The sound alone makes Stiles wants to kiss him again, but he doesn’t, clears his throat instead. No words come, which in itself is quite the curiosity, and Stiles is almost relieved at the sound of paws hitting the wood. Here to interrupt any possibility of an awkward silence. Stiles glances over his shoulder, watches as Bo enters the room and sniffs the air. It’s probably best to be upfront.

Once more, he clears his throat. “I’m not staying.” He crouches down and can’t help but smile when Bo bumps his head against his leg, demanding attention. “At least not forever. Until the house is sold, and I found the next… target, I guess.” He runs his fingers through Bo’s soft fur as he tries to ignore the way his heart aches at the thought of leaving.

For the first time in years.

Which is ridiculous. He doesn’t know Derek; not how he is as a person, that is. He only knows superficial stuff. What happened to his family, that he’s a werewolf and that he owns the only garage in town, and that he doesn’t need to crawl under cars or get car grime and oil all over himself because he’s loaded. So, he’s either doing it for fun or for the people living in this town… or both. Derek seems to be a good person, but so is Stiles, and Stiles won’t lie — he’s not only a handful, he’s also not particularly nice. Many people called him an asshole. They’re not entirely wrong.

“I’m not asking you to stay,” Derek says as he slides onto the chair at the head of the table, very clearly indicating that he’s not planning on leaving soon. “But maybe I can convince you to come back.”

Stiles blinks up at him, scratching Bo behind his ears. “You don’t know me.”

“Yet,” Derek adds and looks down at him with a smile.

This fucking guy is going to give him a heart attack before Stiles has figured out his favorite color. Aside from that, it dawns on Stiles that he may have misjudged the guy. “So, you stalked me because you like me.”

The tips of Derek’s ears turn the slightest shade of pink. Adorable. “I never stalked you.”

Bo barks.

“He says you’re a liar.” Stiles raises to stand and pulls a chair out. “I think you followed me around, but didn’t know how to approach me.” Smirking, he sits down as Bo uses his chance to curl up under his chair.

Instead of replying, Derek opens the bag of takeout and pulls out only the best of Sally’s diner. His ears turn just a shade darker.

Stiles props his chin on his hand, not even bothering to hide the smile forming on his lips. He totally could get used to this.

#sterek #eternalsterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #derek x stiles #stiles x derek #*tv:teen wolf #*w:complete #*s:sterek #I'm still fighting my writer's block #like a mad woman #it's getting better #but fucking hell #writing is still so hard 😭

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lolsonic-idk-man · 1 year ago

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Talk to Me: Chapter 4

Chap1, Chap2, Chap3, Chap5, Chap6

I was writing chapter 4 of Talk to Me yesterday and it was over 6000 words there was still a lot more I wanted to write so I cut it, and now chapter 4 is done and just under 4000 words and chapter 5 is halfway done.

Anyway, there is now going to be 6 in total chapters unless I manage to do something else...

I'm sorry IT TOOK SO LONG! (@sfdsds)

It was nothing large this year, just your average raid with a few more people added to the mix. Which was a good thing considering Dream's mental state. Nightmare had told his men to keep the rest of the Stars busy as he attempted to speak with Dream.

He had also pulled some of the strings he had on some AUs that used him for protection or supplies. It was at times like this that Nightmare was glad that he had allowed for trade between some of the more negative AUs, they owed him to some extent and they all knew it.

The reason he had to ask them to fulfill their debt today was because everyone in the Omega Timeline knew Nightmare always planned something larger on the 21st of December, (it being their birthday after all.) So they prepped their own forces to defend, gathering as many as were willing to volunteer, which was a lot.

So it was best if Nightmare had his own army.

The AU they would attack was a fairly close copy to the original that leaned into the more positive side of the spectrum, perfect for acting like he was trying to do damage. It wouldn't really though, Error would probably get to the AU soon after, and it would be like nothing happened.

Nonetheless, the Stars showed up shortly after they started.

His men quickly took to making sure Blue and whoever else was working with the Stars that day were busy, and it seemed like Ink and Error decided it was better to watch today. Although fairly ironic. You'd think at least the Protector would join.

Regardless, Nightmare had managed to engage Dream in a timely manner. And Dream had not kid. His movements were slowed, so much so that Nightmare would more often than not have to miss him purposely. Which in turn made it harder than it should have been to herd him into a more secluded area, but nonetheless Nightmare had done it.

By the time they got to an open area in the Snowdin forest, not a single word had been spoken between the two, any of the forced glow in Dream's eye-lights had disappeared and was replaced with a stare that begged Nightmare to end it.

Nightmare let his tentacles return to his back as Dream struggled to hold his bow with his dwindling will and stared at his brother.

" I would like to speak with you Dream. "

Confusion seeped into his eye-lights as he tried to keep them trained on Nightmare. " What? "

Nightmare fixed his poster, " I, would like to speak with you Dream, and properly figure some things out. " Dream merely continued to stare but with the addition of anxiety. " More specifically about what has happened in that little apartment of yours. "

His eye-lights disappeared at the menchen. " How did you- what does it matter? "

" I've heard a multitude of things over the past few weeks, " His brother's arms drop. " And I would like to… start apologizing, for… the many things I've done. "

His bow dropped into the snow and he started to laugh. " You're sorry!? WHY!? Why would you be sorry? Do you want to get my hopes up just so that you can pour water on it? I'm sorry to tell you but I don't think that will work if you haven't noticed I'm at my end. " His arms slowly wrapped around him as he started to tremble, crooked smile still there. " You've been watching, I'm sure you know I'm giving up, so do whatever you want! Kill me, trap me in an overly negative AU, do whatever! I won't fight it. " Dream fell to the ground, curled into a ball, and weakly muttered. " Do whatever. "

Nightmare did this.

" I wish to speak with you. I wish to speak about your side of the story, what's going through your skull, voluntarily, not because you're having a panic attack and muttering it aloud. "

Dream barely looked over his arms and stared Nightmare down with dead eye-lights before sighing, " Fine, my side. My side was me being a quivering fool by listening and helping the villagers even after I saw them hurt him. "

Dream couldn't even say his name.

" I couldn't do my damned job and because of it he's gone and our AU is dead. "

" You were scared. "

" I shouldn't have been. "

" We were children. "

" And I was the Guardian of Positivity. "

" That was a role that was never meant for a child. "

" Yet it was given to one. "

" It doesn't change the fact that a child never should have had the responsibility. "

" WHY ARE YOU DEFENDING ME!? " Dream snapped. " I failed! It was my fault! What's with the sudden change? For seven years you tell me how it was my fault, and now it's not!? And as if you'd just forgive me! So what do you want? What do you want if you don't want me dead? "

A moment of silence.

" I want to make a truce, I want to try and rebuild the bridge I burned so many years ago, I wish to ask for forgiveness, but I do not expect any of it. For that is up to you. "

" Why should I trust you? Why should I trust anyone? Everything I've ever been told in our old AU was a lie. The villagers lied about nearly everything, he lied to me. Even today people use me. Some of the Omega Timeline's council try to get me to do their shit for them, even some of the people from the Omega Timeline! And I couldn't even realize it until Cross Brought it up! " His arms flung above his head to exaggerate the sentence. " I've been used from the start and I'm still being used now, and I can't tell if I am myself. So if I can't even trust myself why in the world should I trust you? "

" Well, you seem to already trust my word about your brother being gone. "

" Sort of hard not to when presented with such compelling evidence. "

" What if I forged it? "

" Then I am more naive than I thought. "

" And if I invited you to my castle for a nicer setting for this conversation would you? "

Dream takes a glimpse of the area and himself, " With where I am I do not see why not. "

Nightmare nodded and turned to open a portal, Dream was still, " Are you coming? "

Without a word, his brother stood up and walked through the tare in reality, not hesitating in the slightest.

Nightmare's tentacles dragged in the snow as he walked after Dream.

On the opposite side of the portal was a room made of the same stone as the rest of his palace, dimly lit by torches and the fireplace. The room had a wide range of furniture, from the bean bag Error demanded for his visits, the silk couch that his goop had stained more times than he was willing to admit, the RGB TV Killer begged for, and a coffee table made with bulletproof glass, even then it was replaced once a week.

Dream stood a few feet ahead of Nightmare, dumbfounded.

" Yes, I'm aware I should never let my man decorate again. " The negative Gaurdian groaned. " But on other matters, I need to call back my man. Sit wherever you desire, except the bean bag, Error will kill me if I let anyone else touch it. "

His brother gave a small nod but no move to sit down. With a sigh, Nightmare went to call the retreat.

After a little more than an hour of sorting monsters into their appropriate AUs and drilling into Killer's skull that he was not allowed to bother Dream, he returned to where said skeleton was radiating anxiety from the middle of the couch.

To be honest anyone could tell just by his body language, and the fact that Nightmare could sense it made it even more prominent. Which was odd. Normally Nightmare couldn't sense how Dream was feeling due to his positive aura hiding his feelings. Making the situation worrying.

Nightmare pushed him to this point.

" Dream. " the golden guardian jolted, turning to face his brother.

" Y- yes? " He stuttered.

In complete honesty, the dark guardian did not know what he was supposed to do. Dream was now in his place, his castle, his home, sitting on his couch as a guest instead of standing in a field of dust and blood prepared to fight with his life, and for the lives of the ones still standing.

How Nightmare had failed to realize how awkward this would be was astonishing. " I would assume you would like a tour of the palace? Or perhaps you would like some food to replenish yourself? " He gestured to the large doors in the room.

Hesitating, Dream nodded.

Understanding that his brother also had no idea what to do in the situation. He returned the action, pulled out his phone, and sent Horror a text requesting some sort of treat be set up in the dining room for when they arrived.

Placing his phone back in his inventory he turned his gaze to Dream once more, who was now standing a few feet away from him, and seemed to think the floor was the most interesting thing in the world.

Excepting the fact that there was not going to be a conversation Nightmare started the tour. " I suppose the best place to start would be here, wouldn't it? We are in the north wing, the area of the place made for more calm recreation. I am sure you've figured out this is the living room, although rarely used by anyone other than me. Other areas such as the library and kitchen will be found here as well. "

With that being said Nightmare led Dream out of the room, down a few halls, naming every meaning full room, and into the west wing, which had turned into an area his men used to train and do anything they wanted without breaking any valuable. Guests were not allowed to go there if they wanted to live because Nightmare's gang did not watch out for anyone when training.

Dream remained soundless.

The South wing was compressed of storage and where more serious business was taken care of.

" What sort of ' business '" Dream's vow of silence ended.

" How do you think I filled my castle furnishing? " He turned to face the golden guardian. " I run an extensive trading system between some of the more negative AUs. It serves me well and was fairly good at boosting positivity when it was needed during your absence. "

" Ah. " Dream shrunk.

Perhaps that last part was unnecessary. Regardless the tour continued.

The last place for the tour was the East Wing, the East Wing was where the sleeping quarters were. Nightmare pointed to where all of his subordinate's rooms were, his own, and where Dream's room would be.

Although once shown his room it was apparent he wanted to disappear inside it, alas, Horror had already prepared food, and Nightmare knew better than to leave it untouched.

" Horror made food for your visit, you can hide after you've eaten. You need to get something down your hatch anyway. "

After deflating a little and a realization of some sort, (most likely that he hadn't eaten for a while now.) he nodded and allowed Nightmare to lead him to the dining room.

The walk was no different than the rest of the time they had had together, the only sound heard was the sound of their footsteps.

Apon arrival the first thing they saw was (Instead of food) Horror with a tray above his head and the gremlin Killer, trying to worm his way out of Horror's other arm.

" Come on! I'm just gonna have one! Is that really that bad? " He wined as he attempted to escape his captor's arm.

" Nightmare wanted them for Dream. You can have whatever is left, " the large skeleton granted.

" Booooooo! " Horror adjusted his hold on Killer and threw him over the table. " ACK- "

The plater was placed by the head of the table, " They're here anyway, ya won't have to wait long. "

" Oh, HEY BOSS! " Killer shouted pulling himself off the ground and waving. " and Dream. "

Not amused by the spectacle the dark guardian massaged the bridge of his nasal cavity, took his place at the head of the table, pulled out Killer's seat with his tentacles, and motioned for Dream to take it.

The chair's normal seater let out a loud offended gasp, stopping Dream from even considering taking a seat. " Boss! You wouldn't! "

" But I have, Dream, you may seat yourself, " He motioned to the chair again.

The confused and anxiety-filled guardian took a second trying to register the situation as Killer grumbled on his way to the seat on the other side. A moment longer before he quickly shuffled to the chosen seat.

With all of the dramatics out of the way Nightmare- " Horror please explain to me why there are ten bags of chips on a silver platter. "

" Had ta make sure there was flavor Dream would like, " The giant released a deep chuckle.

Holding a groan, " You couldn't have made anything… " What was a good way to put it? " with more effort? "

" Nah, I'm workin' on dinner. Couldn't waste too much time on a snack. "

The groan had its freedom, " Very well, I expect something of exceptional quality tonight Horror. "

" Nothing less boss, " Really Horror. 'Nothing less,' Nightmare ought to strangle him. He couldn't though, Horror had already made his way out of the dining hall.

Dream had taken to looking at the chips and back to Nightmare, playing a game of ping pong with his eye-lights. A game that would only end when he got an answer of whether or not he could eat the chips.

With a sigh, the dark guardian nodded and messaged the rige of his nasal cavity.

Sweat formed on his twin's skull as he slowly reached past the Doritos for the classic lays, continuing to stare Nightmare down as if he'd change his mind at any given moment.

" Just take a damned chip bag. " Killer whines from his board form. " Boss doesn't bite. Plus I want some chiiiips! "

" Killer! " A glare threatening his removal from his boss and from Dream a look that desperately wants to say something about 'Boss doesn't bite.'

As Killer grumbled his defeat and leaned back into his chair with his arms crossed, Dream grabbed a bag and took to quietly eating it.

Not much more happened in that evening, Killer ran off with the entire plater when Dream did not reach for another bag of chips. When it was offered that Dream gets comfortable with his room he eagerly agreed. So Nightmare left him to be alone till dinner. However, feeling Dream's anxiety spike led to a change of plans. Nightmare was not about to force his brother to join them, he wanted him to feel comfortable, and have a choice in his endeavors here, or when he wanted to leave. So the offer that Horror or someone else brought a surviving of dinner to him was made, and with it, Dream's anxiety withered.

The following days happened the same. Dream would stay in his room, and someone would bring him food, sometimes attempting a conversation, only to be met with the silence of a room that felt empty or if they were lucky a hum.

It was exceptionally worrying.

The matter only became worse with how he could feel Dream's anxiety rise over time.

So a plan to get Dream out and about or just to help soothe him was devised.

Shortly after breakfast had been served, and Dream ate in his room once more, Nightmare knocked on his door and announced, " I hoped that you would join us this morning, and as you didn't I've decided we're going furniture shopping. "

A few beats of silence before the door opened slightly revealing dimly lit yellow eye-lights and a very confused stare. " What? "

" You need to get out and get some form of positivity, and with how much Ink drones on about nearly everything, I know fully well that this room is not your usual style nor the most comforting to you. Seeing as you do not plan to leave I figure your room ought to be set up for your comfort. "

A few blinks and silence was all Nightmare was met with.

" Get ready we will be leaving in 30 minutes, " With that, he nodded, walked away, and did his best to ignore Dream's confused panic.

Once the time had passed Nightmare made his presence known to Dream, before opening the door regardless if he answered or not.

Inside the golden guardian sat on his bed twitling his thumbs, wearing the outfit he wore for battle, and probably other formalities required of him by the Omega Timeline. Unexpected to say the least. Nightmare would have expected him to take one of the more casual options his boys collected for him. He supposed it was better than the white t-shirt and short shorts Dream had taken to wearing.

" Good to see that you did more than mope in your room. " Dream looked like he wanted to say something about the snarky greeting, but then realized that he had been moping in his room for the past four days. " Thought so, but let us be on our way. "

Walking through the newly formed portal and making sure Dream actually followed, they arrived in an odd AU, to say the least.

Nightmare deemed himself Lucky to have even found this AU. Its entire concept is practically the same as the original AU, just with an obsession with furniture. When Nightmare had found it it had been tilted towards the negative side of the spectrum because the humans of their world much longer than most AUs to fall into the underground, and monsters had started to lose hope of escape.

Though, through Nightmare's trading system they made it till the human fell and got them to the surface, and shockingly let them stay without any RESETS. It truly is an odd AU. But it served its purpose.

Stepping out of his portal and into an alleyway only to make sure one who did not know him did not see him come through.

He quickly made his way into the streets of an open mall-like area, mainly full of shops that had different styles of furniture, and had quite a number of Humans and monsters wandering the lots.

Dream stood close behind Nightmare trying to figure out what sort of AU this was. " Uh, where are we? "

" I'm unsure of its name, " – it's as if the creator of it made it quick just for a single quick plot point. – " But it is the reason my castle is well furnished. "

Dream stared a bit bewildered at Nightmare, " Didn't Ink make your place? "

Ah, it seemed Ink had told Dream how he had made Nightmare's home. " Indeed, but I had to manage him as he made it so that it wouldn't turn into whatever monstrosity he had planned. So you think I would let him furnish the place as well? "

" I won't deny Ink is a bit… hectic? " he looked away and sweat formed on his skull as he tried to make Ink sound like less than a sugar-high child who was given expensive art supplies and permission to do whatever he wanted with them, yes that includes eating it.

" Indeed, and from what he's told me, you took to, erm, ' Cottagecore ' for your choices in decor. " Nightmare had to look into that term to figure out what on earth Ink was talking about.

" Yes, that is how Ink described my house to me… " His eye-lights avoided contact with Nightamre's as he stood stiff.

Not wanting to live in the silence that followed Nightmare continued to the story that he had chosen for the trip, thankful that he didn't have to drag Dream, as he heard the clop of Dream's boots trying to catch up to him shortly after he walked away.

The shop Nightmare had set his eye-light apon was just up an escalator and past three other shops, so the walk should have been quick.

That didn't stop the monsters who recognized The Guardian of Negativity from stopping them to giving thanks or asking questions about Dream who had slipped his smiling mask on again, trying desperately to act like he was fine.

After a few minutes of shoving through the monsters, the few humans who got swept in by the crowd or were curious to know what the gathering was about, answered the same question " Why are you here with Dream? " who knows how many times, they finally made it to their goal.

Looking through one of the windows from the shop he could see a small dining room set up centered around a soft desaturated green, white, and light brown with a plastic vine plant of some sort draped over the edge of the table. The other window had a living room scene the main colors being nearly the same. The only difference is the soft desaturated yellow instead of the green.

Inside the shop the walls were lined with transparent pictures of different furniture one could purchase, separated by actual furnishing of varying designs.

Nightmare went to convey how large of a purchase he would be making to the monster at the counter after assuring his brother he could choose whatever he wanted.

He was not kidding when he said it would be a " large purchase. " The bedrooms of his palace had waiting rooms that were filled with seating, and the inside of the room itself was massive. It could hold its own living area, office, and gym, every room even had its own bathroom. One could fit nearly anything they wanted in those rooms. Nightmare had placed a library of his favorite books in his own so that he would be able to retrieve them without having to traverse the castle for them.

Knowing just how nervous Dream was his brother paid close attention to how he was feeling and what he was looking at. Taking note of the different amounts of affection and intrigue to different pieces, to then be scared away by the price.

Maybe an hour of looking – for cheap stuff – Dream found a few that fit whatever budget he had set up in his own head. Only for Nightmare to grab a few more of the ones Dream had taken a liking to. " You need not worry about the prices Dream, we need to fill your room anyway. "

The golden guardian said nothing as he watched his brother buy a stupendous amount of furniture. So much so that it was to be picked up in a week.

Once bought, Nightmare considered offering to get lunch in Fluffytale, a quant AU mainly known for the cat cafe run by the sans of the AU or Ccino, (Nightmare may hate cats but the coffee was worth it,) but After a look at Dream decided against it. Dream was already confused as a fish out of the water just from Nightmare's actions thus far.

Walking through his portal into the main living area as it had become customary to arrive there, only this time instead of the room being empty or dust napping on one of the couches, Killer and a skeleton wearing a complicated black and white uniform decorated with straps that make X's.

Cross.

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