Chapter Text
Laying in bed, Nightmare watched as the bed's canopy gently swayed when the air conditioning turn on. It was late, that much he knew, but he didn't want to look at the clock. He didn't want to know how much longer he had to lay there before the sun started rising.
He doesn't know why he decided to set-up a canopy over his bed, it's not like it protected him at all from outside dangers while he was asleep, it gave him slightly more privacy for when he's sleeping, that's all. Maybe he was trying to simulate a more enclosed area when he stole it? Why would he do that though? As much as he'd love to have a safer feeling sleeping space, he knew such a luxury was far from a being like himself.
Shaking his head, Nightmare forced his gaze away from the canopies curtain as he rolled over, burying his face into one of the many pillows lining the bed.
He glanced towards where his balcony door would be if the curtain was opened, checking for the slightest of light, only to find none. Nightmare groaned, rolling over once again to his other side, grabbing one of the pillows on his way and throwing the covers off. He was too hot.
Nightmare pulled the pillow closer to his body, curling around it to the best of his ability, hiding his face into it.
Surely just one look at the clock would be okay..? No, that would make it worse. It's late, he knows, but it's also too early. Late enough the moon is out, too early for the sun to rise. He knows this and looking at the clock would make this more agonizing then not knowing.
The skeleton shivered, grabbing the blankets and throwing them over himself. He was too cold.
He shifted around, feeling restless in his own bed. He felt too wired to sleep, too uptight to relax. It was stupid, he knows. The self-proclaimed King of Negativity, unable to sleep because of his own lesser instincts feeling lonely in his own bed. What a funny joke that was..
Nightmare rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He felt himself on the verge of tears and tried to blink them away. Stupid emotions. He knew this loneliness would pass, it always does, but the fact that it happens in the first place makes him irritated to no end. After all these years, his body still couldn't accept the fact that he's not getting a mate? or a pack for that matter? It would be funny, though he couldn't find it in him to laugh.
It's nights like these that Nightmare is forced to remember that, at the core of his Soul, he was still an Omega, despite his hardest efforts to pass-by as other.
Groaning once again, Nightmare throws the blankets off of himself and sat up, sitting criss-crossed on his bed. He looks up, tiredly, at his poorly made bed. Pillows scattered across the bed, looking like a destroyed version of a nest. Blankets were folded up awkwardly and shoved in strange spots. The only consistent part of the bed was the sheet that covers the mattress.
It was uncomfortable at best.
His body twitched with the urge to fix everything, to line the pillows nicer and fix the blankets to make the bed softer, make it comfortable and look nice for a mate-- no no-- where did THAT come from!? He can't have a mate, his body has to accept that, whether it wants to or not.
He can't keep going like this, he knows, one day his body will break and fall apart from the lack of.. well, everything. He can't have a mate, everyone is either afraid of him or would use it against him, would hurt him. He can't really have a pack either and if he see's his lackey's as part of a pack then it'd be way harder to hide his second-gender. He can't afford them to know, they'd use it against him!
Nightmare blinks as he feels something cold and wet land on his hand. He stares down at his hand, watching another drop of water fall onto it as his vision get's more blurry-- oh, he's crying. So much for holding it together.
With a sigh, Nightmare wipes away the tears from his eye. He faintly imagines someone else doing it, someone else comforting him and wiping his tears away. He feels his thoughts drifting to a reality that doesn't, and won't, exist for him, but he can't quite bring himself to stop it. Is it possible to trigger your own Omega head/subspace? Did he even want that answer?
The short skeleton stares blankly at his own bed--nest--, being vaguely aware of his thoughts becoming muddied, harder to hold, like trying to grab smoke or steam. He really shouldn't be letting himself get lost in a fantasy, but what else is there to do in the dark?
Laying back down and rolling onto his side, Nightmare closes his eye-socket. His mind drifts to a fake world, a world where he had a caring mate. He curls into a pillow once more, allowing his made-up fantasy to sooth him back to sleep, knowing that his mood will plummet the moment his brain catches up to the fact it was not real, but right now, he's okay, he doesn't feel quite-so alone right now.
Waking up, Nightmare feels warmer then normal, a little lighter, like he was basking in the rays of the sun in a soft nest. He opens his socket a little, only to be blinded a bit with the sun that peaks through the canopy, he closes it, hiding his face into the pillow below him, only for it to move with a chuckle.
He doesn't know why that doesn't freak him out like it should, in fact, if nothing else it makes him feel more relaxed. It was strange, to feel this warm and relaxed for once.
"You awake, sweetheart?" A voice asked softly, like they were worried to disturb him. The voice sounded low, like a male, yet not quite. It was rough sounding too, like leaf's on pavement. It.. calmed him, weirdly enough, and he found himself nudging closer with a whine, which earns another chuckle from the person.
"Not quite, I see." They spoke and he feels the brush of a kiss on his temple. Nightmare slowly opens his socket again, grumbling at the sunlight as he adjusted to the brightness.
The King looked up at the person, yet he couldn't make out any details, they looked fuzzy. He thinks they're a Monster..? He can't be sure.
"Good morning, dear. You sleep well enough?" The person asked, their tone sounded loving. Nightmare feels like he's known this person since forever, he love--likes, he really like's this person.
He gives a grumble in response, gently headbutting his mate, earning a soft laugh from the other as they a hand up to cup his face. He nuzzles into their hand as they hum.
"You're adorable.." They muttered out to him and a purr kicks up in Nightmare's chest. He feels.. happy, he thinks.
The taller pulls Nightmare closer, nuzzling him as they did so. They make sure the blanket is covering him, keeping him warm and close to themselves.
The blanket feels warmer and softer then usual, Nightmare liked it. He couldn't help but run his hand over it, sighing contently at the feeling of it.
"We still have another hour before we have to get up, how does sleeping in sound?" They asked with a slight yawn, staring at Nightmare with adoration.
The person shifted, getting closer to Nightmare and tangling their legs together, almost pulling Nightmare on top of them in the process.
More sleep sounded good to him.
Nightmare nodded, his purring getting louder as he buries his face into his mate's shirt. This close, he could smell their scent, they smelled of an ocean breeze with a passing of mint. It was.. nice.
Another hour of sleep sounded nice, cuddling with his mate in their nest, alone for another hour..
The sound of an alarm going off jerked Nightmare awake, he rolled over, turning it off. He opened his socket, the sun just barely rising. Strange, he faintly remember's the sun being higher then that..? He shifts, feeling more uncomfortable then before. He nuzzles into the pillows with an un-characteristic whine, faintly wondering why he can't get comfortable.
He suddenly jerks up, sitting up fast enough it leave's him dizzy.
He stares at his messy bed--nest-- with confusion. Wasn't it just..? where was his mate? Nightmare looked around frantically, blinking a couple of times as it dawned on him that he had dream'd all of it. He slaps a hand over his face, cursing at himself for being stupid.
The skeleton sit's there for a long couple of minutes, staring at his mess of a bed as he fought the urge to cry. Why would his mind do this to him? Now he has to deal with his instincts throwing a tantrum all day. Fun.
The bed was cold, too cold, and he could faintly still smell the scent of the ocean and mint, though that's probably some sort of 'phantom-smell', his body creating something that wasn't there.
The sheet's felt grimy and itchy--he needed to wash them-- and there wasn't anything remotely soft enough on his own bed.
Nightmare wraps his arms around himself in a hug, gripping his humorous tightly as he tried to ground himself and his instincts to reality. He pulls his knees up to his chest, allowing himself just a moment to curl up pathetically.
He shuts his socket tightly and grits his teeth as tears tried to fall, he refuses to grieve over a dream. It was stupid, everything about it was stupid.
With a deep breath, Nightmare uncurls himself and wipes his tears, exhaling before he pulls back the canopy and moves his legs off the side of the bed, getting ready to stand up.
He looks over at the desk in his room with a faint feeling of dread, not wanting to deal with paperwork and planning today. He wanted to go back to bed, fall back into that comforting dream, but he had responsibilities, he had a team to keep alive and a reputation to uphold.. Surely a day off wouldn't hurt...?
Nightmare shakes his head aggressively. What the fuck was he thinking!? A day off? really!? If he wants to keep his 'Alpha' ruse then he can't afford a day off! His gang is way to perceptive for their own good and would know something was up, and if they assume something is up, they might find out he's not actually an Alpha like they've been told, and if he's not actually an Alpha then they'll go out of their way to find the truth. A day off is way too risky!
But he can't stop the idea from repeatedly popping up, he wants to claw his face off. But he can't, because that would mean he's getting worse and it'd be hard to hide at that point. He can't be getting worse! He's a deity for crying out loud! he's not supposed to be held down by things as stupid as second-genders!
Taking another deep breath, Nightmare forces himself to calm down, he can't afford to lose his cool around his gang. He's made it this far, has gone over six-hundred years like this and he refuses to let himself break now.
So what if he's had an increase of harmful urges? They're just urges, as long as he doesn't act on them, then nothings wrong. He's not breaking, he's fine. He hasn't done anything yet, he'll be fine.
Clenching his hand into a fist, Nightmare stands up, moving over to his desk to collect the paperwork for today. If he keeps himself busy, he can ignore the urges. It's worked thus far.
Turning towards the door, he can already hear people moving in the hallway, on their way to breakfast, and he sighs, collecting his paperwork and heading towards the dining room. Today is going be agonizing.