Oh, Maybe A Moor?

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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?”

there’s nothing purer or better than how much kids enjoy being picked up and then hurled at soft surfaces

Oh

I got LOL in given

didn't even know I could do that!

“NNAAOoooOOOOo!! You can’t ship them! They hate eachother!” Hehehe salty Gingerbread go *Gut-wrenching slurping noises*

what

i don’t usually post non-art related things here but today i received the mondstadt ost boxset which includes an official venti wisp keychain and i NEED everyone to share in the forbidden knowledge i have just obtained, by which i mean: WISP VENTI HAS ARMS?

𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖉: 

Summary: With the death of your only child, life hasn’t been well. The house has never been this empty, and the memories of your child has been plaguing you. But two years has done enough to help you with the grieving process, and life is a bit better. You’ve taken up Genshin again, since it has been one of Tiana’s favorite games to see you play. Life is getting better.

Then you find yourself somewhere not your bed. Isn’t this place…Genshin?

Pairing: Zhongli x reader

Warning: death, god!creator if some prefers not to read that kind of reader

Notes: was v impatient about this so i kept it in queue to not be tempted to rewrite :’)

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There are many records that tell of the beloved creator of Teyvat. There are many stories, many legends, and many myths. Many of them tell of their divine hands, their distinctive appearance in the eyes of mere mortals. Many speak of their blood that flows rivers of gold, eyes that hold the secrets of the world, hands and feet that create wherever they go. 

Many tell of how Tevyat came to be, in the hands of the creator. How they formed it with a loving hand, a soft voice. Such came the existence of the adepti, the humans, the archons. So came the creation of life and death, and such came alive the world of Teyvat. 

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