Summary: Do not worry the octopus-

The inky tip of Nightmare's pen absently tapped atop his paperwork. His brows furrowed, stony expression morphing into a scowl as minutes passed while his cyan eyelight scrutinized the blank document beneath.

Though the dark lord loathed to admit it (perhaps even as much as he despised to acknowledge his past in Dreamtale- t̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶o̶f̶t̶ ̶w̶e̶a̶k̶ ̶N̶i̶g̶h̶t̶m̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶d̶i̶e̶d̶), he was on edge.

The entire day, he had sensed a restrained series of emotions from the residents of his castle. Flickers of impish glee, sparks of carefully concealed joy, faint impressions of congratulations- all of which his power struggled to sense a hint of. It was nigh maddening to the Guardian of Negativity, not knowing what was going through the minds of his subordinates.

Dust and Horror? He could tolerate being blind to the insanity plaguing their minds. For a short while.

But, Killer?

Killer's silence was unbearable. The murderous Sans tended to be blunt and open when it came to what he thought/felt, despite the issues with his soul; For him to suddenly be so closed off brought up some concerns.

Nightmare jolted, tendrils flailing and sharpening at their tips, when a loud knock sounded from the other side of his office door.

Perturbment settled in his soul.

His followers hid their emotions so well he hadn't even noticed one of them approach his general vicinity. It would seem they were using their teachings on how to more effectively avoid Dream to their fullest potential.

The negativity-laden skeleton always knew teaching them that would one day backfire on him.

He willed his tendrils to relax, giving himself a faux air of dignity and composure to cover up his underlying discomfort. Not a second too soon either, for the monster on the other side of his office door swung it open without any regard for permission to do so. It came as no surprise, seeing as the skeleton beyond the door's threshold was the most impatient amongst his crew: Killer, the target-souled menace of Nightmare's day-to-day life.

"Hey, boss!" The Sans greeted in a playful, sing-songy voice.

Joy trickled past the steely invisible wall he had set up between Nightmare and his emotions, eliciting a few displeased twitches from the dark lord's tendrils.

"What is it? Can't you see I'm busy?" The Guardian of Negativity growled, glaring down at his empty sheet.

Killer sauntered forward, making his way around the sofa seated in front of the desk, and planted his hands on the wooden surface before leaning forward. "Can't a skeleton visit his favorite dark lord unannounced?"

Nightmare glanced up at the other and raised a brow.

"What? No?" The target-souled skeleton gasped in mock offense.

"Killer."

"Fine, fine- You caught me," Killer slipped around the side of the desk and leaned over Nightmare's armrest, clicking his teeth against the dark lord's jaw. "Happy anniversary!"

The negativity-laden guardian blinked as the other drew away, tendrils twitching while a cyan hue spread across his cheeks.

He rolled his eyelight and huffed, "Sentimental fool."

"Come on; You know you're a sentimental fool too."

Nightmare sniffed, pointedly ignoring how a dark viscous tendril snaked around the Killer's waist and tugged him close. Nor acknowledging the way the murderous Sans snickered before leaning into the hold.