Just so you know this is a terrible combination of my bullshit at 12 am (Why am I staying up this late to write shit what is wrong with me) and me trying to write something serious 

Dream poured over the old books he'd found.

School text books, stories of realistic and fantastical fiction, history of the old village.

When he'd learned that the library from his and his brother's old AU hadn't been completely destroyed, he'd been so excited that he hadn't even let Ink finish speaking before portaling over. If there was any place that might have information on how to help his brother, it was the village that studied the effects of the Tree's apples.

So far, though, all the evidence pointed to Nightmare's situation being impossible. The dark apples shouldn't have been able to turn him into that...thing.

They were only supposed to boost negative magics or increase a person's negative emotions to the point of developing chronic anxiety or depression. So what happened that Dream didn't know about?

The sense that he might finally be close to a breakthrough made every fiber of Dream's being burn with purpose. He wouldn't let anyone or anything stop him now; Nightmare would have to be breaking down his door to kill him in order for him to even look up. Even then, he'd probably just pack up his new collection of nerd and run to the nearest safe place.

He closed the book titled, The Garden of Eden and the Tree of Feelings: A Connection? It was a giant conspiracy theory. Dream regret even picking it up.

He sighed and leaned back, grabbing the water bottle Blue had brought him...at some point. He didn't remember it getting there; it just appeared at some point. He only knew it was Blue because his friend had written, 'Take care of yourself while working! Mweh heh heh!' on the label.

His eye lights roamed the piles of half-burned books he'd brought back. How so many had survived was a blessing. How any survived completely intact? A minor miracle.

His gaze caught onto one he hadn't read yet.

It was made of old papyrus paper, and was so thick Dream recalled he'd had to carry it separately from the others. He's almost crushed his fingers setting it down, where it hadn't been moved since. It's black leather binding was much too dark to be natural. All the books around it had been ash. When he'd found it, the few unburned papers had been ruined by years of rainfall. But it was unharmed by fire or water.

It gave Dream an uneasy feeling just looking at it.

There was no title on it, just a stranger symbol. It looked a little like a moon, but there were several lines breaking it up.

If he was honest with himself, Dream would've said it looked like some sort of demonic rune.

But he wasn't superstitious, so he ignored that idea.

He sighed and got up.

His legs felt numb from sitting in one place for so long. The joints in them popped and groaned in protest as he made his way through his personal obstacle course. He picked up the book, and looked back at his journey.

"..."

He decided to sit down on his bed, where the book had been sitting, instead of making the harrowing trip back to his desk.

Because laziness is bliss.

He is slowly learning to become one of us.

We are slowly corrupting him-

Wait this isn't about Dream being lazy?

Why not?!?!

*Sigh* Fine. Killjoy.

*Ahem.*

He set the book on his lap and opened the cover.

The same symbol starred up at him. But this time, underneath it, there was a title.

Libro maledictiones istæ,

"I hate latin," Dream muttered. He recognized the language, but didn't understand it.

Meaning if he wanted to, he'd have to go over to his computer and put it into Google Translate, where the author of this story got the title from.

Damn.

Being lazy was hard.

He decided that he could probably figure out what the title was based on its contents.

He flipped the page, and found the table of contents.

And it was all in latin.

Great. Time to get to the computer.

With a groan of why, Dream got back to his feet and navigated back to the only other safe spot in the room. He played the book down with a loud thump and opened Google.

If there was one thing Dream loved in times like these, it was Google Translate. Considering latin was the only old language he didn't know.

He carefully typed in the title.

Book curses

Dream, knowing that Google Translate can be off at times, deduced that there were two possibilities.

This book was meant to curse other books, or there was a word missing.

Probably a word was missing. If Dream had to guess, the full title was supposed to be Book of Curses

He frowned, and ran the chapter names through the program.

1. Before You Start

2. A Witch or Warlock's Best Friend is their Safety Precautions!

3. Materials

4. Incantations for a Curse of the Soul

5. Rituals for a Hex of the Mind

6. Spells for Crippling the Body

7. Other Ways to Get Your Point Across

8. How to Make the Farmer's Crops Rot and Not Get Blamed for it (And Other Classic Tricks)

9. Final Author's Note

Dream wrote each one down on an extra piece of paper. There were some interesting choices there. He wondered who the hell had written this, and if they'd been the victim of a Hex of the Mind.

He decided to start with the first chapter. Because he figured, if there is something in here that points to what happened to his brother, there might be a hint of how to reverse it in the...what do you call those chapters again? Maybe it was just the first authors note.

Unsurprisingly, the entire book was in latin. So Dream got the pleasure of putting the single paragraph into GT, sentence by sentence.

Hello, fellow witch or warlock. My name is Moon. I am a powerful witch of the land Earth.

Dream snickered. He somehow doubted Moon was this woman's real name; whether it was Luna or Lune or she used a fake name for her book. And 'the land Earth'? Was she an alien? He continued...

I have cast many curses and spells in my time, and even created a few myself. However, I have often seen that many of our kind don't have the luxury to own a spell book of their own; often having to create all of their own spells. While this is generally a normal part of being a user of Black Magic, it also comes with far too many risks to be worth it in my opinion. Thus, I have decided to write a spell book myself. The following will contain every hex, curse, spell, magic puzzle, and trick I have ever learned, and many that I have not. I hope you find it very useful.

And remember: If a spell ever backfires onto you, the easiest way to undo it is to work backwards; even the incantation. I also recommend using Temmie Flakes in place of any edible ingredients.

Dream read that last part over several times. Since when did Temmie Flakes have a latin translation????? He thought it was just an English term.

"Reality-defying Temmies," he mumbled.

Well. If there was anything, at least he knew what to do.

Dream started to go through chapter four, but realized he seriously needed help. These sentences were written by hand and not with the neatest handwriting.

He once more got up, and maneuvered through the mess.

He made it to the door, and opened it.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then a voice screeched, "HOLY SHIT INK HE'S STILL ALIVE-"

Another voice answered, coming from the kitchen. "HOLY SHIT DREAM CAME OUT OF HIS ROOM-"

Blue ran into his view and tackled Dream.

"Holy shit Blue calm down-"

Blue let go of Dream and crossed his arms. "You've been in there for two entire days!" Blue said hotly. "I refuse to not be happy that you're finally getting out for something."

Dream sighed. To be honest, he hadn't realized how long he'd been in there. It was nice to see the outside world for a while.

"Actually," Dream said, as Ink came out from the kitchen holding his skull-What had he slipped on? Excitable idiot- "I need some help."

Blue and Ink seemed to straighten. They must've figured that Dream would only ask for help if he'd found something.

"What is it?" Ink asked excitedly. "What did you-"

"Nothing just yet," Dream admitted. "But this one-its all in friggin' latin, and I can't just copy and paste everything into Google Translate."

Ink blinked. His eye lights turned into two question marks. "You don't know latin?"

"No."

"Huh. I thought you did."

"Nope."

"Okay. I'll get my phone since its actually been charging for once."

"I'll get mine too," Blue said, and they both ran off.

Dream took a deep breath and turned back to his room, dreading the task of making room for his friends.

______________________

Dream was typing in a long passage about making someone turn into a toad-a classic spell-when Ink inhaled sharply.

"Dream, this one had notes on it."

Dream looked over. "What kind of notes?"

Ink frowned at them. "Um...Like, someone was tweaking it to work on a specific person. And it has a specific name."

Dream looked at Ink. "Are you pausing for dramatic effect, or-"

"Someone cursed your brother."

Dream took a second to process this.

Then, he pulled the book towards him a poured over the notes.

There were arrows pointing to different ingredients and denoting a change, a word or two crossed out or changed in the incantation, and at the bottom, in dark black ink, were five words.

Nightmare won't bother us again.

"...Well," Dream started.

"Fuck."

__________________________

"Yo, boss."

Nightmare turned to his subordinate. He was busy and didn't appreciate being interrupted.

"What?" He growled.

"The Star Shits wanted to tell you they have a death wish," Killer said calmly.

A crash was heard outside. Nightmare's eye sockets twitched with annoyance.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Nightmare hissed, looking out the window. "Did he seriously make a giant glass ball just to make a loud crash?"

Ink was giggling hysterically next to a very large pile of broken glass. Judging by the minimal streams of blood on him and his I'm so done with your shit companions, there had been some sort of barrier between them and certain death.

"This curse will incapacitate the target and animate their unconscious body for many years, or until you decide that you don't need them anymore. If you happen to die after casting the spell, then too bad for your victim. The curse will continue to work without your direction, running rampant in your home, town, or even the entire kingdom, until it wears off or someone else dispels it."

"Why do I have to deal with this so early in the day?" Nightmare grumbled, turning into a puddle of goo and racing away to reform in front of the Star Sanses; well behind the glass, of course. Glass was dangerous for everyone.

Don't play with broken glass, kids. Ink is a moron. Don't do what he does. Thank you for listening to this PSA; back to your regularly scheduled shenanigans.

Ink tried to stop giggling when Nightmare showed up, but he seemed to be having a hard time getting it together.

Dream, however, looked grim.

"This particular one is also extremely dangerous because, if done wrong, the curse can go after its creator. And it is very easy to mix something up in such a complicated recipe, or stumble over the words of the incantation. As such, I recommend only skilled casters attempt this spell, and any one else to use a lesser spell of controlling their desired minion."

"What is it now?" Nightmare asked tiredly.

"I know what happened to you."

Nightmare narrowed his eye socket. "Excuse me?"

Dream pulled out a strange book. "I know what they did. You aren't my brother; you are an aberration created by a failed attempt at a horrible curse. And I now I know how to fix it."

Nightmare hissed. He recognized that book. "You really think you can get rid of me?" He snarled. "Try it, Goldy. That apple did more than just make me a negative monster. How do you think I've managed to stick around this long?"

Dream put one hand behind his back. Nightmare couldn't see, but Dream gave Blue a signal.

Blue started to sneak his way around the pile of shattered glass. Which, considering there was nothing to sneak behind, was pretty impressive on his part.

"The curse takes the form of a thick, viscus substance on the victim's body. It can form into extra limbs as well, and often these cursed humans and monsters make great guards as these extra limbs can be manipulated freely and formed into weapons. Most common are tentacles, but sometimes they gain an arm, or a leg. On one occasion, one of my victims gained a scorpion tail. It depends on the victim, and how violent they are on their own. My scorpion friend was a vicious murderer that I 'rescued' from the noose. He quickly tried to kill me afterward that, thinking quite rightly that I was going to be using him as my next test subject."

"Don't underestimate me," Dream warned. "I've been trying for fucking decades to help my brother. I don't give a shit how powerful you are; you have Nighty and I. Want. Him. Back."

Which each word, Dream's generally cheerful aura began to dissolve. In its place was the strongest determination Nightmare had ever sensed from a skeleton monster, save those who'd injected themselves with pure DT. But we don't count them because most of them are dead.

"This specific curse is very tricky to dispel; and trust me, sometimes you need to let them go. Instead of reciting the incantation backwards, you must say every fourth word in place of the second, and every second in place of the fourth. A word swap, if you will. The materials must be from another part of the plant or animal you obtained them from; I suggest a toe in place of a tooth, or a leaf instead of a petal. Now, onto the spell itself:"

Nightmare laughed. "Good luck. He doesn't know anything. He'll probably have a soul attack when he wakes up; if you even managed to succeed somehow."

Dream opened the book to the page he'd bookmarked. "So then you'll hold still while I try?" He asked sweetly.

Nightmare raised his tentacles defensively, but Ink, who'd recovered at some unknown point, was ready. He coated the end of his paintbrush with bright pink art and splatted Nightmare.

Unfortunately for Ink, he had to leap forward to get a better chance at hitting him, and landed in the glass. It didn't go through the soles of his shoes, but he slipped.

He landed on his elbows, trying not to get his face or spine in the clear, glittering pieces of pain. "OW-!" He yelled. "Fuck that hurts-!" Blood began soaking through his sleeves.

Dream winced. "You're the one who decided to use glass to get their attention."

"Remind me to never do it again," Ink said through gritted teeth, hissing as he tried to sit up. "Ow- ow ow ow ow-"

Sadly, Dream had to turn his attention away from Ink. Even though he probably really needed help. Like. Really needed help okay maybe he should just text Life real quick-

Dream sent the text and quickly put his phone away. Thankfully, Nightmare had been too occupied with the chains Ink had made around him to notice Dream's lapse of focus.

Dream took the extra moment to gather said focus back, and ignore Ink.

"Now, Blue!"

Blue, who had managed to get around to Nightmare's side of the glass pile, quickly pulled out the ingredients and stuff and dumped then on Nightmare.

Because. That's exactly what the book said. For some reason. It didn't seem very professional, but then again witches didn't work for money so none of the stiff in the book was professional.

Dream started the beat-swapped incantation.

He realized he probably should've written down how it was supposed to be read before actually coming.

Frick.

Dream suddenly felt like he was going to die. And for once it had nothing to do with the goopy octopus.

Nightmare's struggling became more desperate. He started screaming. Nothing intelligible, just...screaming.

His gang came out to see what in the devil's name was going on, but Blue casually threatening them all with broken glass stopped them from interfering. Not that Dust, with his extra powerful blue magic, or Killer with his assumed status as best knife-thrower in the multiverse, didn't try. But Blue also had very good aim and a strong throwing arm, and they doubted they could do anything before he yeeted glass at them.

As Dream somehow got closer to the end of the spell without stumbling too badly, Nightmare's body began to glow. His screams became louder. It took all of Dream's willpower to keep going and ignore his brother's voice wordlessly begging him to stop.

The goop started to dissolve. Nightmare's struggling slowed as the thing animating his body wore away.

Soon, the only thing left was a small, unconscious skeleton in tattered purple clothes, wearing a golden crown with a crescent in it.

Dream would rushed forwards immediately, but he had to go around the glass. Wouldn't want to do what Ink did, now, would he?

He didn't want to walk around, though, either, so he teleported over. Because he's a goddamned Sans. He can do that.

Nightmare began to stir. Dream took his shoulders and moved him into an upright position.

"Mmnnnn..."

Blue dropped his glass and walked towards them speedily. "It worked!" He exclaimed.

"I think so," Dream muttered. But he was more focused on his brother. Praying his being in suspended animation for so long hadn't affected him too much.

Nightmare cracked open his eye sockets and tiredly blinked up at Dream's relieved face.

"D-Dream?" He said hoarsely. "What-what happened? Where are we?"

Dream didn't answer right away. Instead, he pulled his brother into a tight hug. Nightmare made a surprised 'Agh!' noise, but didn't object.

He spotted Ink still in the glass pile, still whimpering in pain as Life used her plant magic to bring him out of the deadly AoE. He did not recognize Ink.

"Dream...?" He started again, "I don't understand. Why are you so upset? Why aren't we by the tree?" He paused, pulling back from the hug and looking around. His gaze landed on the shocked looks of the Insanity Trio. "And who the fuck are these people?!"

Dream laughed. "Its a very long story," he admitted, "But right now...I'm just glad you're back."

"But-" Nightmare blinked several times. Then he sighed. "Okay. Fine. But I want to know exactly what happened and why I feel like I've been asleep for the past century and a half."

Ink was ignoring everyone and focusing on not moving. It hurt to move his arms especially.

Blue was watching the brother fluff happen with tears in his eye sockets.

Life was a little occupied with the artist slowly bleeding out, and didn't even bother trying to pay attention to what everyone else was doing.

Dust, Killer, and Horror was deeply offended that Nightmare didn't recognize them. A little sad, too. But at least Dream and Blue didn't kill him. Then they would've been beyond pissed.