Just Another Day

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Summary: Just another day being the leader of the "bad guys."

The day was like any other day for Nightmare, spent hunkered down at his dark oak desk with a pen in hand, scribbling away, and a stack of neatly organized papers beside him

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The day was like any other day for Nightmare, spent hunkered down at his dark oak desk with a pen in hand, scribbling away, and a stack of neatly organized papers beside him. Paired with an occasional break spent staring out the large window behind him, admiring the view of his castle's inner courtyard. And watching the boys do anything stupid if they were out there.

Unfortunately, like any other day, it still had the more undesirable aspects in his routine.

Killer wordlessly threw open the dark king's office door moments after he finished a particularly tricky part in his work. The jolt-inducing sound produced when the door slammed against the wall caused Nightmare's pen-wielding hand to veer to the side, making an unsightly mark on the page below. A single cyan eyelight trailed up to glare at the noisy skeleton.

The anger and annoyance behind it failed to deter Killer as he immediately walked further into the room, grinning; the telltale sound of poorly hidden giggles echoed in the air. Once at the edge of the desk, he halted and seemingly struggled to remove something from his inventory without laughing. If it was another newt or weird plant, the Guardian of Negativity swore he would toss the idiot out the nearest window. Violently. He had no such reason to own as much wolfsbane, foxglove, lamb's-ear, thyme, and other herbs as he did. It made organizing them in the castle gardens the very definition of his namesake: a nightmare.

"Night," The murderer said through stifled chuckles. He then managed to produce a handful of walnuts from his inventory and continued. "What would you do if I called you-"

Before the no doubt terrible pun concluded, Nightmare blindly grabbed the closest item beside himself - the neatly stacked papers - and threw them at the pun-loving monster's head. The impromptu projectile could not be dodged in time, leading to sheets impacting and scattering all across the floor.

Fighting off a frown at the careless mistreatment of his work, the dark lord growled, "I don't want to hear you finish that sentence or even the slightest whisper of it from any of the others."

"Hmph! Jokes on you, it would have been great." Killer pouted and shook a loose paper off his foot.

"You mean like the time you all banded together to get me a pet newt." Said creature sat in a half land, half water terrarium on a long oak dresser on the far right side of the room. At one time, thoughts of getting rid of the slimy little thing were strong, but the boys would surely hate him if he did that. Killer further proved that point by offense permeating his target-shaped soul coupled with a deep frown and furrowed brow, angry on behalf of the newt they'd grow so fond of.

"Hey, Newty is a beloved member of our team!" He smirked and crossed his arms, adding confidently, "Besides, you make a great witch, and what great witch doesn't have a faithful newt by their side."

Nightmare sighed (somewhat fondly), giving a shake of his head. "I am not a- Nevermind, why don't you go stir up some trouble in an Underswap or Underfell and leave me to my paperwork. I have an important deadline to meet by the end of the week." Before the other could turn around to leave, he chided, "Don't forget to pick up those papers on your way out."

The hoodie-clad skeleton released a dramatic sigh but otherwise complied with his request and carefully shifted the loose pages into a pile, then picking them up as a group.

"Wait a minute," Killer paused, pulling the script closer to his empty eye sockets. Soon after, a sly grin spread across his jaws as he realized what the papers really were: another installment in Nightmare's hit novel series "Lunar Days." A set of stories built around a misunderstood yet loveable villain with a supporting cast inspired by his own unruly gang and the ridiculous things they did. (The Guardian of Negativity would be lying if he said it wasn't the story of his life.)

An odd profession for a king and guardian, yes, but it was necessary. He needed a way to receive a steady income, after all. Stealing money from AUs wasn't always a viable option, and it made purchasing necessary goods like healing items and food far easier. Plus, he may or may not have grown quite fond of participating in the literary arts. It seemed almost as enjoyable as sitting down with a good book on a quiet afternoon.

Regardless, the dark lord certainly did not want nor intend for any of his boys to read it, much less spoil the story for others before he could make a few extra G off it.

"Killer, hand me that right now!" Nightmare snapped, standing up from his chair quickly enough to knock it back a few inches.

Instead of obeying the command, Killer drew the papers close to his chest and stepped a few paces back with a horribly mischievous expression on his face. "Boss, why have you never mentioned you're a creator?"

"Killer-"

The warning got cut off by the other's excited exclamation. "Error is gonna be so mad!"

In a flash, the hoodie-clad skeleton bolted out the door and down the halls while shouting the crazed destroyer's name. Nightmare quickly followed.

"Get back here this instant, you uncultured butter!"

"Only if your insults get better!"

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