My exams are over 😍😍😍😍😍

This is a really fun oneshot guys, I hope you enjoy very happy fluffy Mm

I've realised that nearly every fight scene I write is in snow but but but but

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Blood is pretty in snow

 
 
The air was frigid. Snowflakes consumed the air, spiralling from the sky to crash into the snow. It made breathing sharp, every breath like a prickle of needles. Pine trees bowed beneath their weight, groaning with each cruel breath of wind. Each crunching footstep echoed off the rough tree trunks, trapped in the clearing where the blue sky beat down upon them ceaselessly. The sun watched.

Copper burned on his tongue. Spitting red, Dream wiped his mouth with the back of his glove and ignored the smear it left behind. His body ached, weighed with the burden of time and stung by experience. Blood leaked from the rough scratch on his chest, messy. He was sure that through the numbness, he could feel two ribs broken. He had taken a beating that would leave repercussions for at least three days. But he was still standing. His opponent wasn't.

Twisted on the floor, someone gasped for breath. His heels dug into the snow, fingers grasping unsuccessfully at air. His hoodie and clothes were ruffled, shirt hitched to show bruised ribs. His eyes eyes were wide, silver pupils slits. Black tar stained his cheeks, running down to his neck where it pooled before dripping into the snow that surrounded him. Crimson blossomed at his chest, spreading with feather-like fingertips over his chest to seep into the snow, staining it mauve. A fibreglass spear jutted from his jest, split through his sternum and cracking out his spine the other side.

With each wheezing breath the fallen skeleton gave, he stepped closer. He was duly aware his leg might be broken, his foot dragging with each step. But it didn't register, mind only able to focus on the fact that he'd done it. After years of fighting, years of torment, he'd finally struck him. Killer had survived death, avoided capture, outlasted teammates and escaped Dream since the moment they'd first met. And now, finally, he'd wasted the last of his nine lives.

Lying broken on the floor like that, Killer looked decidedly unattractive. He usually had a cruel quality of handsomeness to him, a sharp smirk and enticing eyes. Now however, with blood dribbling from his lips and expression ashen, he had lost that fire. Twisting his neck to the side the assassin gave a hacking cough, blood painting the snow in burning flecks. Death was never pretty.

As he crouched slightly Dream became aware of yelling behind him. Tipping his head, he glanced back to watch the skeleton's teammates.

Dust had caught sight of what had happened, his fight against Blue forgotten as he watched the man he'd grown up with be beaten to the ground. "Killer-!"

It was one of the first times he thought he'd heard Dust speak, his voice gravelly and scared. His shoulder rolled back, ready to rain a curse down upon him. Dream's gaze managed to flick to Blue in time to see him tackle Dust before the words could spill from his lips. The two tumbled across the snow, leaving scuffs of dirt and blood as Dust tried his best to break free. Bones speared through his body, ripping through his shoulder to pin him to the floor. The other yelled, ripping ligaments and snapping limbs.

A brush of air washed the back of his neck and he cursed, rolling just in time to miss the stab of a jetting tentacle. Nightmare snarled, claw-like fingers striking his side and nearly removing his hipbone from its socket. Staggering to his feet he lurched out of the way of two more tentacle strikes. The Negative Lord wasn't someone he was currently capable of fighting.

From his position in the snow, he watched as Nightmare crouched over Killer's feeble body. One claw like finger reached down to brush over the wound on his chest before he was struck around the back of the skull. The crack was haunting, echoing across the forest as the metal banded tip of a particular large paintbrush collided with bone. The artist was a bur, swinging the brush around again to send him crashing into the nearest tree.

Blue bones speared all the way up his body, jutting into the tree and pinning him in place. Dream staggered to his feet, skull ringing as he watched the Lord tear his body free as if they were merely needles. He could be negligent, but Nightmare wouldn't let a team member die. He'd fight until the snow was red and he'd lost the ability to fight. The blue arrows wouldn't stop him. Only his arrows would do damage.

Eyes rolling down to the spear jutting from Killer's chest, he grit his teeth and stepped forwards. Cold, aching fingers curled around the spear and gripped tight to its structure. Magic pulsed through his fingertips and with one rough movement he tore the weapon from Killer's chest. The assassin's anguished scream melted into the yells of his teammates, Killer's body jerking roughly. His hands slapped to his chest, blood bubbling between his fingers.

The spear twisted in the air, manipulated into the shape of the willow bark bow he'd carried since his new life had begun. With the last magic he could summon he strung an arrow. Firing.

It slammed into Nightmare's shoulder too fast for his body to become mailable. The screech that followed sounded as if it had clawed up from the depths of hell. He strung another arrow, faintly aware of Killer hacking his guts up into the snow. This one hit its mark deep in the skeleton's leg, his body falling to the ground. He snarled, eye burning flames into Dream's soul. A third arrow burned in his fingertips, taunt on the bowstring. Yet this one never met it's mark.

Sailing through the air, the arrow clattered to the floor in pieces. Stood in front of Nightmare, seething, was Cross. His blade burned against the dying light, sweeping an arc through the snow at his feet. Spitting at the floor his eyes peeled the other apart, gripping him from his very soul. "You've done your damage-"

Eyes flicking down to Killer he found the other was staring back at him, pupils dim and fading. His mouth opened but only pink spittle flecked his lips. He could hear Horror and Dust struggling against Blue and Ink behind him but dismissed it, crouching slowly. "Ink, get rid of them."

Killer stared up at him, breath failing him as he heard the yell of his two best friends be forced through a portal into a different timeline. Where were they going-? They couldn't leave him here- he was going to die in filthy ground like some rodent. His glorious purpose reduced to ashes. The guardian crouched in the snow beside him, the crunch of his knees against the flakes drowning out Cross' yells and Nightmare's snarls. Through his faded vision he saw Ink advance on them, eye sockets void and smile cracked.

"Killer."

His attention snapped back to Dream and all of a sudden he felt like his throat was clogged with blood. He heaved, but air didn't come.

"You fought well Killer, just not for the right cause." Dream's eyes flickered over the other, listening to him gurgle in his own fluids. His limbs twitched, body thrashing weakly on the snow to paint a bloodied angel on the ground beneath him. As Killer stared back at him he saw something he hadn't seen in the other before; fear. It was thick in his expression, heavy in his eyes. As he heaved air to no success a sob fled his lips, wild and scared. He was dying and he knew it.

Cupping his skull in his hand he sighed, watching as the other's eyes sought wildly for his friends. "They can't help you now, Killer."

"Hhurts-" It was hardly even a whisper, a fleeting breath on a wisp of wind. "Mmmake i-it stop- ppplease.."

As he watched the other's life ebb from his body, he felt a moment of guilt. He worked to bring justice, not cause the suffering of others. Dragging through the snow, his fingers sought the smaller's fallen blade. It was stained with his own blood, moisture causing it to run in rivers down his wrists.

Grey pupils followed the path of the blade and he smiled, skull sinking backwards. The blade hovered over his soul, it's shape already trembling and cracking. With Ink's cruel laugh and Cross' hoarse yell in the background, the blade shattered the soul.

For a moment Killer looked shocked, his eyes wide. But they slowly slid shut, a sense of almost calm falling over his expression before he finally lay still. If not for the ugly stain at his chest, he'd look almost peaceful. At rest maybe. As the soul dissipated he watched the assassin's fingertips begin to crumble, dust sinking into the once pristine snow.

Rising slowly to his feet, he looked up in time to see Nightmare and Cross disappear in a crack of thunder. The last thing engraved in their minds would be the sight of their teammate flaking into ash ten feet away from them both. They hadn't saved him.

At his feet Killer slowly seemed to dissolve, the only indication he'd ever been there being a shallow indent in the ground.

"Such a waste.." Ink's cruel voice echoed in his skull, sneering. "Not even thirty, and he threw away his life."

Dream wasn't sure how long he stood there replaying the final look of terror in Killer's eyes, the painful hacking coughs, the weak struggle. His body was numb by the time he finally stepped away, the stain of Killer's life bleeding through his mind.

Such a waste.

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This idea basically stemmed from a simple comment in my favourite rp and it spiralled from there

I don't know why I seem to have an obsession with killing off Killer, but I can't help it. I promise I cry each time too 🥰.

Um so I think updates should go back to every other Friday but no guarantee

Tell me what oneshots you want to see next 😍

Writing nightmare kinda feral is fun 😉 look at his bf coming to save the day but not Killer 😩👎🔪

-Jess-