Between Stars And Shadows ~Evil Sanses x F! Reader

CHAPTER 8~ Watch

Nightmares P.O.V

Nightmare's boots struck the polished floor in sharp, deliberate steps, each one a quiet warning to anyone foolish enough to cross him right now. The echoes followed him down the hallway, heavy and steady, like a heartbeat drumming against the stone as he made his way to his study.

His tendrils shifted faintly around his shoulders, reacting to the storm twisting inside his chest.

"Children."

That was what they were. Dust. Killer. Horror. Three beings meant to be his weapons, yet they spent more time fighting among themselves than dismantling the Stars' fragile little world.

Dust's laziness disguised as indifference. Killer's insufferable jokes. Horror's endless, idiotic puns.

Useless. Absolutely useless

He clenched his jaw, stepping past a row of tall windows overlooking the barren field leading to a haunting forest beyond the castle walls. "I didn't bring them here to play," he muttered, voice low and sharp, the words slicing through the silence. "I brought them here to destroy."

But instead, they'd failed him. Again.

The memory of the shattered chandelier burned in his mind — all of them carrying on as if he wasn't standing right in front of them. As if they'd forgotten who it was they served.

The shadows around him trembled faintly as his frustration deepened.

And yet, his thoughts kept circling back to her.

Y/N.

Every time he thought of her, of the way she looked at him when they'd dragged her away to the dungeons, something inside him churned unpleasantly. Not guilt. Never guilt. He'd carved that out of himself long ago when he finally grew a spine. But there was something — something sharp, something heavy — sitting deep under his ribs, and he hated it.

Hated her for putting it there.

Hated himself more for letting it stay.

The plan had been simple: break her spirit, use her to control the Stars, crush Dream beneath the weight of his own failures. But she wasn't breaking fast enough. No — worse, she was adapting. When he paid her a visit, he saw it in her eyes. That flicker of defiance. That quiet resistance she thought she hid so well.

And that was dangerous.

Because if there was one thing Nightmare couldn't afford, it was hope festering inside his prisoner's heart. Hope spread. Hope infected. Hope was the seed Dream fed on like a parasite.

So he tested her.

He'd left the cell door unlocked on purpose — just once — and waited. Watched. Curious to see how far she would go.

She took the bait.

He felt her slip into the castle's veins like a thread of living breath in a corpse's body. He let her roam, let her believe she was clever, unseen. Every echo of her soft footsteps vibrated faintly through the castle. Did she honestly think she was unnoticed? That he couldn't feel her negativity? That he had actually forgotten to lock the door?

He hadn't decided yet if he wanted her to succeed... or to fail spectacularly.

But then there was that moment.

The one that had been gnawing at him all evening.

He had been walking toward the foyer — drawn by the faintest disturbance, the barest shift in the castle's weight — when he'd felt it. Her presence. Fragile, quiet, but there. Scared shitless.

And he almost caught her.

Almost.

He remembered standing in the shadows at the base of the grand staircase and then walking towards her, tendrils sliding faintly across the marble, just waiting for the smallest breath, the faintest sound to confirm it. Give him a reason to find her—

"Nightmare's not gonna be happy about this!"

Dust's voice.

Loud. Careless. Breaking the tension like a blade across taut string.

He'd wanted to tear Dust apart right there, for ruining it — for pulling his attention away at the exact moment he was certain he had her.

And so he'd let her go.

Purposely.

Because there was power in letting her think she'd gotten away. Power in letting her believe he hadn't noticed.

A mouse grows bold when it thinks the cat is blind. And when the mouse grows bold... it makes mistakes.

Nightmare wanted her to make those mistakes.

The tendrils trailing behind him twitched faintly, reacting to his restrained anticipation. He wanted her to try again. To keep testing the boundaries. To keep convincing herself she had control. Because when she finally believed it — when she truly thought she could escape — that was when he'd take everything from her.

He reached his study and pushed open the massive doors, the darkness inside greeting him like an old friend. The obsidian desk loomed at the far end in front of a large circular window with panels of coloured purple and gold glass depicting a version of himself lost long ago, the desk covered in maps, and coded reports from his network of spies scattered across the multiverse.

He rested his palms on the cool surface, leaning forward on the desk, letting the silence breathe around him.

Dust. Killer. Horror. Even Cross and Error. All of them were replaceable. Tools, weapons, pawns on a board he could flip at any time.

But Y/N...

She was not.

He needed her. Not because of sentiment, not because of weakness, but because without her, the balance tipped in Dream's favor. She was his leverage. She was the knife aimed at Dream's throat. She was the key to victory, even if she didn't know it yet.

And if she slipped through his fingers — if she reached Dream before he was finished with her, it would mean giving Dream a foothold he could not afford him to have.

His grip on the desk tightened until the obsidian cracked beneath his fingers.

"If she tries to run again," he whispered, low and cold, "I will make sure she remembers who owns her fate."

The room seemed to hum faintly, alive with the quiet threat of his words.

Nightmare stood there for a long while, staring down at the black-veined maps of fractured timelines, his jaw tight, his thoughts circling like vultures. He hated this. Hated that Y/N occupied space in his head at all. Hated that some part of him was still unsettled, haunted by the possibility she'd do exactly what he feared — slip through his fingers.

And if that happened, if she escaped, if Dream found her first...

Nightmare's jaw clenched.

For now, he would wait. Watch. Let his pawns squabble and fight, let them underestimate her, let her think she had room to breathe.

But the next time she tried to run from him...

She wouldn't make it to the end of the hall.

A/N: Thought I'd just do a short one for today lol, personally I like writing from Nightmares P.O.V, it's just more interesting and it gives more of what he's thinking rather than y/n's interpretation.

FYI, chapters 1-13(?) will most likely be dedicated to the plot (cause where's drama without the plot?), which isn't anything huge (for now maybe) it's just the Dream vs Nightmare thing.

However you will soon (eventually I know, I'm sorry, we're getting there) form better connections with the others.

and maybe some new characters. Hint hint, nudge nudge, ones on book cover.