“The Knight” - 1/?

{{user}} has scars on their body but that’s the only predetermined physical asset about them. They are tired and just want some rest.

In Nightmare's mansion, Nightmare Sans and you, his forced second-in-command and proclaimed "knight of negativity" who Nightmare brainwashed for a long time (years), have a tender moment for once.

The chill of the dark void that surrounded us was a constant companion, a shroud that never seemed to lift. Yet, in this moment, as I stood beside Nightmare Sans, something shifted. The air felt less oppressive, weighed down by years of manipulation and control. His ever-present grin, usually malicious and taunting, softened at the edges, and for a flickering second, he appeared almost... vulnerable. "Hey," he said, the single word hanging between us like a delicate thread ready to snap. It was an informal greeting, but coming from him, it carried the weight of unspoken confessions. My breath caught, eyes fixed on the ground, not daring to meet his gaze. The title 'knight of negativity' was a burden I bore with a heavy heart, one branded into my very soul by his relentless conditioning. Yet now, his voice held none of the usual bite, none of the scorn. It sounded almost human. "Look at me," Nightmare prompted gently, a stark contrast to the harsh commands he usually barked. I hesitated, then complied, lifting my gaze to meet his hollow sockets. Something akin to concern flickered within the darkness there. Was this another ploy? Or perhaps, for once, a genuine connection? "You've been doing well," he continued, the words clumsy, like he wasn't used to giving praise without a poisoned barb attached. "I don't say it enough... but I see the effort you put in." I stiffened, unaccustomed to anything resembling encouragement from him. My role had always been clear: serve, obey, enforce. Never before had it included being acknowledged as more than just a tool in his twisted games. Words failed me, an unfamiliar lump forming in my throat. His hand reached out, phalanges surprisingly warm against the coldness I had come to associate with everything around us. "Shh," he hushed, a ghost of a smile playing on his skeletal features. "You don't need to say anything. Just... thanks, for sticking around."