#ALSO another example: i had a dream when i was little that i still remember where i shrunk and my stuffed dog was MASSIVE

[dravidious]

I think you're quite cool y'know

I have this maybe-not-exactly-fear of really big stuff. Like, the thought of a colossal Thing looming over me is like. idk. makes me uneasy? I don't know the feeling exactly but whatever it inspired a magic card. I sure hope tumblr doesn't make the image way bigger than it needs to be!

[apathyfairy]

not me considering buying putt putt for the switch

[bamsara]

I'm new to this blog, what's dream lamb and dream narinder?? They're cool but I do not understand I wish to comprehend

Dream Lamb (And Dream Narinder) is exactly as the name implies; dream versions of the counterpart that only appears within Narinder's (Or Lambert's) dreams at night.

They are a visual manifestation of the subconscious, they are not real individuals. They can reflect what Narinder/Lamb's true feelings are about something/someone, or torment them about things that they perceive to be true.

One example is that Dream Lamb often makes Narinder remember how fondly he thinks of the Lamb ("You think of them so poetically" + all prior friendship he had with them in the gateway) or pointing out how his words contradict his actions; behaving and believing them to be a traitor and insufferable but doing things of his own will (resurrecting the crab, not killing their flock because it makes them upset, allowing Leshy to live, ect ect).

Dream Lamb ALSO points out the complicated feelings with his siblings; ie reminding him of how he used to help raise his youngers, and the mixture of emotions he feels towards individuals who he claims he despises.

Dream Narinder (Who is not into written form yet and is only in comic form as of this post) who instead of tormenting the dreamer with confrontation of feelings being denied, instead sews doubt and guilt. The Lamb feels even though they stayed true to themselves, they cannot help but feel like their perceived betrayal has damaged the friendship between them and Narinder beyond repair. Despite that grief for the loss of friendship, they'll accept what little companionship they can have from their best friend left over.

Dream Narinder fuels on this, often echoing their worst fears and worries ('You've done a good job as my vessel, so I no longer have a need for you.") So he acts non-nonchalant and often mocking/teasing, or even indulgent with the acknowledgment that none of it is real. Where as Dream Lamb confronts Narinder with feelings he's wanting to push back, Dream Narinder goes the opposite route, and calmly and casually reinforces what they believe to be the reality.

Dream Lamb represents Denial of the Truth, While Dream Narinder is the Acceptance of a Lie.

However,

Because they are corrupted visuals of the subconscious, but still their subconscious nonetheless, this means that these behaviors can change or be different depending on how the dreamer thinks/feels, and how they're processing their emotions in relation to something. Especially when they're confronting it.

In other words, the closer Narinder gets to accepting his feelings and understanding the Lamb's reasoning for their 'betrayal', and the closer the Lamb gets to realizing Narinder's care for them still persists, the more accurate and truer the dreams become.

Like in this comic, where Dream Narinder is tormenting the Lamb, but after their snap back that Narinder would not say something so cruel to them, despite his outward attitude, they are practically rewarded with a praise for it.

For Dream Narinder specifically, his eye remains closed....but opens a little more the closer and closer the Lamb gets to believing how Narinder truly feels about them, whether the real cat has accepted it or not.

As for Dream Lamb, they go from being very aggressive about their confrontation to something more docile, eventually as Narinder starts to process everything.

Another thing: the Dreams are linked. Not always, but they have to be on the same...wavelength for it. An understanding, perhaps. But they do affect each other, sometimes.

The dreams can be nice too, depending. That's why they're not always nightmarish. Meaning, with enough push and pull, eventually:

Why all of this dream and nightmare stuff is happening? Yet to be revealed.

Remember guys if you avoid your feelings in real life they might hunt you down in your dreams, and possibly bluetooth you to the object of your affections dreams as well if you're nice about it

[quitealotofsodapop]

I've sent a similar ask before, but in peachsoup I want to see everyone's reaction to Sun Wukong being named Peaches.

Nehza: *face palms.* No memories and he is still subconsciously pining.

Erlang: *on the floor laughing* It takes a special kind of simping to do it with no memory.

Macaque: *crisis because even with no memory, Wukong chose his nickname for him as a name, but also he's supposed to be angry about dying but peaches-*

Prev.

Dont worry about resending. My inbox is stuffed to the gills and I get lost in it. Also indenting doesnt seem to work right when im on mobile.

I ended up making a bit of character dialogue based on this ask between Peaches and his school-friend "Nez"

Nez: "So how did you get the name Peaches?" Peaches: "Oh! When Dadsy- uh dad found me and MK, he called me it because peaches were pretty much the only thing I ate." Nez, agreeing hum: "Make sense." Peaches: "Then when we were adopted, we needed new legal names - so Zhu Taozi it was!" Nez: "So... you never considered having another name? I mean, the legal folk definitely gave you time to think about it. Why did Peaches resonate with you?" Peaches, twirling hair in thought: "This is gonna sound weird... but I felt like it's always been my name." Nez: "Really?" Peaches: "I know! It sounds so weird! But when I heard it for the first time, it just sounded so natural. Like someone I care about a long time ago called me it? Nez, intrigued: "Oh... so you think it was a nickname from a sibling or a parent or...?" Peaches, confidently: "I think it was someone I was in love with." Nez, memory thread unlocked?: "OH. Oh um... how can you tell?" Peaches, blush creeping: "I don't know! When I sit and meditate on stuff like this, I can just imagine someone just so beautiful with this deep voice chuckling my name like it was meant for me." (*hugs his own body lovingly*) Nez, honesty touched: "Aww..." Peaches, little embarrassed: "I'm sorry. Thats sappy." Nez: "Nah, it's really cute. Who knows? Maybe it's a sign from Yue Lao about who your soulmate it. He sometimes uses dreams to push fated lovers towards one another." Peaches, tail swishing with excitement: "Oh my gods, you're right! It could be a premonition! I wonder if my fated one is as beautiful as I see them! Nezha, internally: "He can't remember over 2000 years of life, but he can remember what his mate used to call him. It would be funny if it wasn't so bittersweet."

Once Macaque gets back, it's hard to see where his face mask begins and end. Learning that even with his memories gone Wukong chose to be called "Peaches", sends the shadow monkey into a conflicted mess. He's mad about getting KO'd obvs, but "Peaches" is both a tragic example of what if Wukong had died (Peaches is almost his own monkey after all), and a revelation that Wukong never truly forgot his mate.

Erlang is laughing his ass off as all of this goes down. His third eye was just spitting patch updates to him one day and BAM; Wukong's mate is back, and just learned that his amnesiac mate remembered and valued his pet name enough to make it his new name. It's way too funny to keep quiet about. He tells all his sworn bros about it.

When Peaches' family realises that "Peaches" was the pet name his big bro's crush called him back when they were a couple... they think its really cute. But the bad boy still isn't coming over for dinner.

[lawofangie]

Hello. I just saw your post about your manifestation journey while struggling with depression and I’ll probably just be another rant about “how difficult it is to manifest”, but honestly I just want to talk a little bit.

I’m at work right now. I’m a trainee in a law office and my relationship with my boss is deteriorating gradually.

While I was at school, I would always think that I would be happier at a job, because I like to feel useful and competent. But now that I have a job, I just feel miserable.

I already received complaints twice about “being distracted” and “not doing my best”, which came as shocking because I’ve been doing my best. I have two bosses and while one looks like she really appreciates me, the other one might be the contrary.

I always fails to do what she wants me to do.

So I have been having really tiresome dreams. I had one where they asked me to type a document and after a while it turns out it was a “you are fired document” and asked me to sigh it.

They laughed and said that “I wasn’t doing enough” and “I wasn’t attending my classes at college” which I WAS but it didn’t matter.

I actually can’t imagine my life better. It’s like my mind just blocks it from me. I feel like I can’t delude myself even if that’s what I want the most.

I really want to just escape and live happily but I just feel trapped and miserable. I think I can predict what you are going to advice me but…I just don’t know what to do. I’m scared.

this is actually kind of relatable. i've felt similarly at many points in my life, i struggled to function, i thought external things would make me happy, applying the law was difficult. i couldn't imagine my life any better either. i understand where this is coming from, i'll try to give less generic advice, but i'm going to be brutally honest, and, this still won't be anything special. its important to remember that regardless of what i say here, manifestation is still just assuming you have your desire and persisting in that fact.

anyways, it honestly gets to a point where you have to realize that you're just wasting your time feeling trapped and scared. you're doing yourself a disservice. no one and nothing can save you, nor is anything or anyone going to. as unfortunate as your circumstances are, you have to do it yourself.

you have to take what you want and prioritize that above how you feel, anyone's made you feel, and how anyone feels about you. your life is meant to revolve around you and no one else. its YOUR life for a reason.

you SHOULD NOT waste the best years of your life being miserable, feeling like a failure, like a victim, like you can't change, like you're trapped like this forever when that's completely illogical. everyone and everything changes. people change in age, appearance, personality, sexuality, preferences, etc. it's physically impossible to be incapable of change unless you're not alive. people change all the time.

you genuinely do not have the time to be so self loathing and miserable, not when you're going to literally grow old one day. and according to those who've made it there already, that day comes fast. do you want to look back at your life at 80 and see what you wasted it doing? when all this information was right in your face? when all you had to do was take a chance and have some faith in yourself?

changing yourself isn't impossible, you're just too scared to assume anything good about yourself, perhaps because you've gotten so used to being miserable. "changing yourself", by the way, just so we're clear, simply means to assume something new about yourself. for example, you already believe you are a failure, and to change would be to simply assume you're successful. that's quite literally it. you just believe in something without physical proof, that's assuming. we assume all the time. you're just assuming about yourself now. the law is extremely simple to utilize, but it's the simplicity that leads to people overcomplicating it themselves.

also, delusion is, by definition, a false belief that is resistant to change, even when presented with evidence that it is not true. an assumption, by definition, is a belief that is taken as true without proof or evidence. you need to realize the difference here. we are telling you to assume, not to delude yourself. we are promising you that the "proof" comes after you've fully accepted it as true. we're not telling you to actively deny something despite accepting it as true. what would be the point in that? if we're telling you that your assumptions, aka the things you believe to be true without proof manifest, why would we tell you to continue to accept something you don't want as true? does that make sense?

being delusional and making an assumption may seem similar in theory, but in practice, they are completely different. one is literally the result of a mental illness, the other is a very normal, very human behavior that we do every day. we make assumptions about ourselves, people, and situations. all. the. time. it seems like it's only a problem and called "delusional" when it's about yourself, and it's something good.

it's like being confident in yourself, believing in your abilities despite what others have to say about you. for example, you have a great confidence in a talent or skill, and the you believe that you will get better as you get older/more experienced/more knowledgeable, and you'll make it places and have great opportunities in the future. let's say some random person decides to insult you and say that you'll never make it anywhere in life. would it be "delusional" to not listen to them? to not let someone else dictate your future? or would that simply be having some faith in yourself and not letting others define you?

this is literally all we're telling you to do, believe in yourself even if your reality seems to be against you. don't fight it, just accept that the unfavorable isn't true and move on. continue to believe in yourself.

and besides, if any person successful to date operated with that "i don't see it so it's not true" mindset, they wouldn't have become successful, would they? would anyone accumulate any kind of success with a mindset like that? the people who have came from nothing and made it to where they were now, had an unwavering confidence in their abilities and the fact that they'd be something one day. despite what anyone's told them, or tried to project onto them, it didn't get through to their unwavering sense of self.

the point is, we are promising you something. all it takes is for you to have some confidence in yourself. to quit hurting yourself. is that so hard?

anyways, the point of manifesting is when you change yourself, the things in your external reality change.

assuming is easy. believing things to be true without proof is easy. you just have to get comfortable with the fact that you need to change before anything changes externally. again, instead of believing you are a failure, that you are trapped, you simply assume you are successful, and you are not trapped.

people also change their minds all the time, they grow to have a different opinion, they realize they were wrong, they want to give something else a chance, or without a reason, they simply change their mind. these things are not impossible, they happen all the time.

i'm saying this to say that manifesting isn't being delusional. to be delusional is feeling stuck and like things can't change, when they so clearly do, all the damn time. you're not special enough for the concept of change to not apply to you. for instance, you are certainly not the same person you were when you were 6 compared to however old you are right now. you changed, therefore you are capable of changing, and i proved it to you with that simple example.

you only feel stuck because you decided you are, you decided that you'll never be unstuck, and so you haven't been. the law is working, just not in your favor. everything you see in your reality right now, perfectly matches whatever you've assumed to be true. that is not a coincidence. it's important to remember that the law isn't a thing with feelings, it does not care about you or your situation. all it does is continue to operate. it's up to you to use the law's indifference to your advantage.

also, you seem to have a victim mindset. it's very obvious in the way that you try to explain yourself, that you were doing as you were supposed to, but it still 'didn't matter'. you're putting so many things (your job, your bosses, proving yourself) on a pedestal, over what really matters, which is yourself. do you even like your job? did you pursue something you were passionate about? because if not, then you have no business subjecting yourself to any kind of mistreatment, not when you didn't even want to be there in the first place. you should be putting yourself and your desires before even thinking about pleasing anyone or meeting any kind of requirement.

your own standards and requirements should come first. remember : you chose to work for them. you have a choice. you also need to remember that your bosses and colleagues are regular people. outside of work (and in the workplace if we're being honest) they have no kind of power over you. you shouldn't be letting such irrelevant people in your life have the power to instill so much fear in you, to the point where you're having literal nightmares.. about typing a document incorrectly.

also, about feeling useful and competent, that's something you have to decide about yourself. are you useful? are you competent? do you honestly feel this way about yourself? definitely not, which is why you're seeking validation from others. but at the same time, it is what's made you so miserable, because you're definitely not getting that validation. and any you get only gives you a short lived feeling of satisfaction. your opinion on yourself matters more than what anyone has to say. that's literally why confidence and insecurity exist. and either way, you still feel a certain way about yourself that outweighs anything anyone has to say about you.

here's another example, let's say you've been insecure about your looks from a young age. if one day, someone randomly tells you you're beautiful or they think you're pretty, is all the insecurity you've felt for years suddenly going to go away? or will your mind find reasons to reinforce the fact that you don't feel beautiful? and if someone confirmed your insecurities, saying you weren't their type, they didn't find you attractive, wouldn't you just justify that reaction in your mind since you feel that way about yourself already?

with that in mind, how much does anyone's words really matter? do the words of others honestly have any significance when they aren't reinforcing something you already believe about yourself?

your reality works in a similar way. whatever you decide to assume/ accept as true/ shift your awareness to/ decide is true/ feel is certain, your reality will reflect. as well as a bunch of reasons to continue believing whatever it is is true. the law is very indifferent and has no bounds. it does not care about your feelings, your specific circumstances, and so on. that's why i'm telling you, you only feel these ways and experience the things you do, because you decided you were. this goes for being miserable, being stuck, feeling useless, feeling incompetent and living in fear. there are no exceptions.

so, with all that said, what do i suggest? first off, you need to practice being secure in yourself. work on being confident in yourself first, then work on your self concept. i say "confidence" as in feeling secure in yourself within the 3d. so, your looks, your body, your social skills, your physical skills, etc. because "self concept" has to do with having confidence in your manifestation abilities. find a helpful method that works for you, like affirming, visualizing, scripting, rampaging, or just simply deciding something new about yourself and accepting it.

self confidence has to do with things like liking yourself, being your own validation, having optimistic thoughts about yourself, and self efficiency. you can't care about what others think, you have to put yourself first, and you can't let anyone dictate your future. be selfish. the only thing that should matter is you and how something makes you feel. nothing bad comes from putting yourself first and not worrying about others.

once you feel confident in yourself, or even while working on your confidence, practice using the law. you could start by manifesting something small, something specific that would prove to you that you can manifest, then work your way up. manifest bigger things or just a large quantity of things, just to prove to yourself that there aren't any limits. remember, manifesting is just assuming: believing something to be true without proof. i mean that in the most literal, simplest way possible. like the example of success i used earlier.

once you've proven to yourself that manifestation is indeed real, play around with it. also, work on your self concept. decide that things always go well for you, that you deserve good things, you're the creator of your reality, learn to mentally reject unfavorable things in the 3d, and so on. this is what i would do if i were you.

i know this was kind of long, but i hope you understand my words and find them useful. feel free to dm me or send another ask if you have anymore questions. 🩶

[skywalkr-nberrie]

To piggyback on my previous post! I talked about how Anakin and Padmé were so close that they wanted each other in all aspects of their lives, and I discussed a little about how they have fun and let loose as close friends whom are also husband and wife, enjoying their time together and letting loose.

But, there’s more to it than just that! We know that Anakin and Padmé wanted to be in each others lives not just as husband and but also as best friends. But it’s also true that they weren’t just friends either… but they were a duo in all categories! Whether it was on the basis of senate work, or in the battlefield together. They stood side by side, doing the right thing, hand in hand!

This excerpt from the Brotherhood novel so beautifully uses the opportunity to express this layer to Anidala’s relationship! Anakin sometimes sits with Padmé when he’s on world, visiting her, with her senatorial duties. Helping her with her research, uploading files, and remembering to pass along key information to OW for her when he had the chance. Anakin who’s revolted by politics puts his disdain on the back burner to be a good and supporting husband and partner for the love of his life. Because they’re a duo, and they’re a team no matter what the situation is.

And I can’t make this post without mentioning what a battle couple they both are together. We see beautiful examples of this in the AOTC movie itself, when they fight side by side on Geonosis, and how often they’re seen teaming up and going on missions together in TCW, but also some of my favourite examples are in the comics themselves! (Star Wars Adventures #5 and #12, and Halycon Legacy.)

And apart of me also feels like this was why Padmé was okay to let Anakin remain a Jedi while they had their baby. Yes, we all know that she encouraged him to stay because the Republic needed him, and Padmé is someone who’s loyal to justice and peace, but a bigger part of her didn’t want him to leave (despite wanting to run away with him.) because it was something that meant a lot of Anakin himself. She says as much in both the ROTS and Junior ROTS novels.

Padmé knew that she could still have ways to serve the people while also having her dream life with Anakin, raising their babies someplace safe. But her worry was always with Anakin. She loved him too much to see him give up on his dreams. He would be in her life either way, as her husband and the father of her children no matter what, so she was content with settling for sticking to their duties while also having their baby.

And this brings me back to my original point, that this is a result of Anakin and Padmé including one another in all levels of their lives, that it’s the point where they’re basically inseparable. Of course, Padmé also just wanted to run away more than anything with Anakin at the end of ROTS leave behind duty (and of course, that’s what they decided to do in the end.) however, there’s also always that justice seeking drive in them both that makes them want to help everyone in need. It’s a core value they both share, and that’s why they’re supportive of each other’s respective positions. It’s even why they adore and admire each other. Their capability to love one another so much, and to ingrain and desire each other in all aspects of their lives and not just one, is one of the very many reasons why Anakin and Padmé are so compatible.

Truly a transcendent love 🚀💛🪷

[mikimakiboo]

Tiny menace

I really have to do everything myself around here /jk

Liiiiittle summary: Bitty Nightmare got adopted by three very creepy skeletons ! Turns out they are nice, but they still give panic attacks every hour

HEAVILY inspired by A Blackened Soul Finally Lightened on AO3

Maybe I will write a sequel... maybe I won't... you tell me

Part 2

And if you like angst with a happy ending, you can check out You Will Be Fine, Now, which is unrelated to these parts but is focused on bitty Nightmare too !

Tw: mention of euthanasia

Bitties have always been very popular. There were so many of them, anyone could find one they would like, and just as any popular thing they were produced in numbers. If bitties originated from a single AU and reproduced naturally at first then it wasn't the case anymore: bitties were now selectively breeded by " specialized farms" in such a way that there would be numerous versions of the same bitty depending on their popularity, which was mostly among children.

Two particularly popular bitties were part of a twin set, they were called Dream and Nightmare, two white skeletons made to be opposites, one being positive and the other one negative. You couldn't separate them, if you wanted to buy one you had to buy the other too. But the more you produced the more you were at risk of making mistakes. In some rare occasions, the Nightmare bitty would come out... wrong. Instead of white bones and two bright purple eyelights, they would come out covered in a black substance with only one cyan eyelight. They couldn't be sell, they were deficient, and bitties could live just as long as any monster or human, so keeping these deficient versions would be a waste of space, time and, above all, money. They called these deficient bitties "Corrupted", and each time a Corrupted Nightmare happened, they would be euthanized.

Only one escaped this fate. An association specialized in rescuing bitties from breeding farms got their hands on the case and managed to definitely close one of the farms, taking every bitty in there to put them in a shelter, with way better living conditions, where they could be adopted. One of the bitties was a Corrupted Nightmare, the only one still alive, a rare one that everyone thought would be the first to be adopted. But no one wanted him. He wasn't as cute as the others, he wasn't appealing, and his personality didn't help: most bitties were sociable and energetic, a few were calmer but they were still loving in their own way, this Corrupted Nightmare wasn't, he was aggressive, he didn't like physical contact, he preferred to stay alone and never went out of his enclosure to see the customers, staying hidden in the dark corners. He wasn't suitable for keeping company and definitely wasn't suitable to play with a child.

How much time did the Corrupted Nightmare spend in the shelter ? He did not remember. More than a year, maybe even more than two, he didn't count, so he didn't really know. He spent his days the same way each time, staying in his enclosure, only going out when the staff forced him to, they said it would help with first impression and getting adopted, but all it had done was confront him to disgusted looks from the customers. "Tomorrow is another day" the staff always said, but to the bitty every day was the same. His enclosure was a little comfier than the others', because unlike the others who didn't have much time to adapt before being adopted, Corrupted had plenty of time, so he gained some advantages such as his own heating lamp instead of the community one for the lamia bitties, as his mucus, his corruption, often tend to be cold. He had many cushions all around his enclosure to lay down, his back often hurting due to the four little tentacles he had. All the bitties had little houses for their intimacy, decorated with some accessories that would be sold with them, such as clothes for example, but also some items. Corrupted had many books, a rocking chair, a bean bag and a little lamp shaped like an apple tree for his reading corner, he also had a room with a round bed with purple sheets and a little bathroom. He liked his little house, he was much better inside of it than sitting in front of the glass wall of his enclosure, watching everyone pass by and never stopping to great him. Some of them looked at him, but quickly turned away to go see some cuter bitties. He eventually got used to it, no longer trying to catch someone's attention by tapping on the glass, he just sat and waited until he could return to his house after spending enough time outside.

He had watched so many bitties leave, all of those who were brought here with him had already been adopted a long time ago, and every bitty who had been brought here after that left too. He had seen the shelter renew so many times, and yet he stayed. Always. Because he was unwanted. Maybe he should have been euthanized like all the others... he knew what happened to them, he knew it because the other bitties told him, the ones who were in the farms with him, they told him that every Corrupted Nightmare would get euthanized, and that it was such a miracle that he was still alive !

He didn't like that miracle. He despised it. He was so scared of dying but he was so done with living. He knew he was going to be euthanized, he remembered that cold metallic box, he remembered all the needles and bottles, the heat of the stove, the look of disappointment on the farmers' face, he remembered all of that... and somehow he got out alive, so relieved, but for what ? Spend his life in another box ? Sure his enclosure was way better, but it was still a box and he was still unwanted.

He got up from where he was lying down, a fluffy pillow near his heating lamp, only to jump with a scream of fright at the sight of two big empty sockets against his glass. He fell backward on another pillow.

- Oop, sorry, didn't mean to scare ya !

He heard the stranger chuckle. He slowly looked up, analyzing the person standing in front of his enclosure: a skeleton monster with empty eyesockets and black tears running on his cheeks. What was this monster doing here ? Shouldn't he be looking at the others ? Since when was he watching him take a nap ? The Corrupted bitty slowly rose his tentacles menacingly, not understanding what he wanted from him, and not reassured by the way he looked at him.

- Ooh threatening me I see, you're a fierce one ain't ya ? Such a tiny menace.

He said, visibly amused as a sharp smile appeared on his face. The bitty didn't like that, what did this skeleton want ? Why did he seem so pleased to see him defending himself ? Did he want him to fight someone ? Was he going to make him fight other bitties ? He had heard the staff talking about dismantling many clandestine bitty fights, many of the bitties ending up in the shelter, was it why this skeleton was there ? The little bitty started to shake, hiding a little bit more behind his pillows.

- Aw you're so cute, the guys are gonna love you !

He cooed, getting up to go directly to the counter, leaving the little bitty even more scared. Was that monster going to buy him ? Why ? He didn't want to fight ! He didn't want to spend the rest of his life fighting other bitties to survive ! He rushed to his house, trying to hide, he didn't want to go ! Not with him ! Why couldn't get a child or a grandma like everyone else ?! Why did he have to get the crazy looking guy ?! He saw the lid of his enclosure opening and pressed himself against a corner, feeling his breathing fastening as he was scooped by a member of the staff to be put in a square cartoon box with little holes so he could breath. He tried to wiggle free, hitting the hand with his tentacles, he screamed, but he was dropped in the box and it was closed before he could get up. He felt the boxt moving and being put somewhere, probably the counter, he heard noises all around him but couldn't decipher what it was, his own soul pounding too loudly to hear anything else.

He was about to pass out when he felt the box moving again, waking him up brutally, he couldn't see what was happening but judging by the air he could feel through the holes, he was outside. He heard a noise, and there was no air anymore.

- I'm hoooooome !

The skeleton sang. Home ? Were they at his house already ? How ? They just left the shelter ! And who was he talking to ? Were there other people ? Would he fight right away ? He pressed himself a little more against the corner of the box, curled up in a ball with his tentacles in front of him, shaking. He heard another raspy voice.

- Brought... food.. ?

- Yep, I got the food ! And I even got better than food !

Food ?! Was he going to be eaten ?! Were they going to eat him ?! To feed him to a snake like a mouse ?! He needed to get out ! If he hit hard enough, maybe the cartoon would break !

- Killer I swear if you brought another chicken I'm gonna make it shit on your bed.

A new voice said. How many were they ?!

- It's even better than a chicken !

Killer, apparently, responded as he put the box down on a table to open it, revealing a shaking bitty curled up in a corner, looking up at them with a wide open eye and fat tears running on his cheek like a waterfall.

- Ta-daaa ! ~

Three skeletons were above him, Killer, the one from the shelter, a big one with a hole in his skull and a glowing red eye, and another one with a hood on, making it impossible to see his face apart from two red eyelights, the one on the left having some blue in the middle. The one with the hole spoke.

- ... Looks scared...

- Why did you buy a bitty ?

The one with the hoodie asked, visibly annoyed.

- He was so cute ! I couldn't leave him behind ! Plus the guy selling him said he had been is the shelter for four years, so I basically rescued him !

He argued. The bitty watched them argue until he flinched, the bigger skeleton was looking at him, frowning. He stepped back for a moment and the bitty couldn't see him anymore, until he reappeared and put his hand in the box. The bitty flinched again, pressing his tentacles against him to protect himself, but he didn't feel anything... he hesitantly looked up, the hand was gone, and a little cube of ham was in front of him. He looked up, the skeleton was looking at him again. What did he want ? Did he want him to eat this dice of ham ? Why ? Was it poisoned ? Was it how he was going to die in order to be cooked ? By being poisoned ?

- For you.. eat..

The skeleton said. The bitty hesitantly shook his head, he didn't want to eat that... the skeleton frowned again but seemed to understand that he was to scared to eat anything. Maybe it was because the bitty didn't know them ?

- Name's Horror.. this is Dust.. and Killer..

He introduced everyone before pointing at the bitty.

- You.. ?

The little one didn't answer. Did he have a name ? He was called Corrupted but was it his real name ? Or was it just because he was a deficient, corrupted version of another bitty ?

- Oh his name's Nightmare ! It's written on the b- ... oh I forgot you couldn't read, sorry..

Nightmare ? But... he was the corrupted version of the Nightmare bitties, why give him their name ? Anyway, that didn't matter as he was going to die soon.

- Did you at least take things to take care of him ?

Dust asked. Nightmare looked at him, still shaking. What did he mean by "take care of him" ? Killer smiled brightly.

- Yep ! Everything is in the second box !

He proudly announced as he went to grab the box and put it on the table next to the first one to open it. Nightmare didn't want to see it, he didn't want to see the tool that would kill him, he didn't.. ! He... he felt everything become dark, he couldn't hear them anymore, couldn't see them... it was all black...

He felt something soft under him as he slowly woke up, he was lying down on what seemed to be a big pillow, big to him at least, as it was normal size to the skeletons gathered around him. Killer was kneeling on the ground, his face at the same level as the bitty, looking worried, while the other two were behind, Dust sitting on a couch and Horror standing up behind Killer. Nightmare looked up slowly, he was on an armchair. He felt something brush against his skull, it felt.. good.. soothing.. he looked up to see what it was and jumped off of his pillow when he saw is was Killer's hand. He heard him cuss as he quickly grabbed the bitty before he fell off the armchair and put him back on the pillow.

- Hey lil' guy it's okay, don't be scared.. !

Nightmare's tears resurfaced as he backed up against the chair back, his tentacles pointing straight to the skeleton.

- You said.. you said you were gonna eat me.. !

Nightmare choked on his tears, his voice quiet, used to not talking that much. He saw the look of confusion on the three skeletons' face as they looked at each other before returning to the scared bitty on their armchair.

- We're not gonna eat you, what made you think that ?

Killer asked, tilting his head.

- You.. you said you bought food...

Nightmare hesitantly answered. Killer frowned for a second before realizing what he was talking about.

- Oh ! No no no, I wasn't talking about you ! He chuckled, I went to the store before passing by the shelter, we were out of vegetables, we're not gonna eat you !

Oh. Nightmare felt his cheeks getting warm, he felt so dumb right now. But that still didn't resolve his first worry: was he going to fight other bitties ?

- Why did you bring me here... ?

He asked, his tentacles still sharp and pointing straight before him.

- 'Cause you were so cute on your little pillow ! At first I was just planning to have a look and then go home, but man, love at first sight ya know.

Nightmare didn't know if it was a good sign or not, after all he had seen some very cute bitties in the shelter who came from clandestine fights. He didn't feel any vile intention coming from any of them though, only excitement, curiosity and caution, so maybe he was safe after all, maybe this skeleton really adopted him to take care of him...

He lowered his tentacles slowly, still shaking a little. His stomach gurgled, catching the attention of the three skeletons. Horror got closer and bent down to hand him the same cube of ham that he must have kept in case Nightmare was hungry.

- Eat.. ?

He asked. Nightmare looked at him for a moment before looking at the ham, he wasn't supposed to eat normal food, it contained too much magic and protein for a bitty, so they had special food mimicking the normal one but with appropriate dosage for them. A treat from time to time wouldn't hurt, though. He slowly reach out to the cube and took it, smelling it before finally taking a bite. The big skeleton gave him an approbating look, glad to see him eat.

He flinched when he felt something touch his skull, one of his tentacles reacting before him by hitting the thing away, thing that was in reality Killer's hand as he made a pouting sound.

- Maybe don't touch him right after he thought he was going to die ?

Dust said from the couch, having been silent until then. Killer sighed and got up.

- Okay, okay, I'm gon' make him a nice lil' spot for the night, I'll go buy wood and everything tomorrow to make a better nest.

He said as he left the living room, leaving the bitty with Dust, Horror and his snack.

- Gonna make dinner..

Horror announced before returning to the kitchen, leaving Nightmare with Dust who was still looking at him from his place. He bent over, his elbows resting on his knees, looking at the bitty.

- I can see why Killer choose you.

Nightmare flinched, looking up at him.

- You were unwanted, right ?

What kind of a question was that ? What was he trying to do ? Nightmare frowned.

- Four years in the shelter, bitties are usually sold faster than that.

He chuckled as Nightmare looked down on his half-eaten ham. Four years. He had spent four years in the shelter. He thought it had been two years, which was already long, but four ? Was he really this bad ? He knew he wasn't as affectionate as the others, he liked his privacy, but was it such a big problem ? He didn't caught it when Killer said it the first time, too busy being terrified, but now that he thought about it, four years was a really long time...

- It's kinda like... a necessary condition to be part of our group you know. I think he saw himself, saw us, in you.

Dust continued. Nightmare looked back at him, confused. What did he mean by that ?

- It's not my place to tell you their story, you'll have to wait for them to tell you, but we all kinda had to deal with rejection one way or another. I think Killer took pity in you like he took pity in us.

He explained. Was it why Killer said he rescued him ? Did he really adopt him to "save" him from the shelter ? A part of Nightmare's soul warmed up at the thought, for the first time in his life someone genuinely wanted him, someone deliberately PAID to have him, to bring him back to their house, and he had been so scared... he felt a little bad for that, judging Killer by his look when he was complaining about how himself was being looked over specifically because of his look.. what a hypocrite he had been.

- Hey lil' guy do you want to sleep by the fireplace ?

Nightmare jumped, clenching on his piece of ham, he didn't expect Killer to appear behind the armchair. He looked at him, looked at the fireplace on his right, and looked at Killer again.

- I can put, like, a blanket with your bed for tonight, so you have a place to sleep while I make a proper nest. I can put it somewhere else tho.. I can put you in my or one of the guys' room if you want ? Oh right I didn't show you my room.. or the whole house... want me to show you around ? I can carry you in my hand or you can rest on my shoulder if you prefer ?

There... there had been too many questions for Nightmare. He looked at Dust, unsure of what to answer, but the skeleton was on his phone. He slowly looked back at Killer who was still waiting. It would be good if he showed him the house, he didn't want to get lost.

- I... you can.. show me the house... ?

Killer smiled at that answer, carefully reaching out to scoop Nightmare in his hand. The bitty tensed at that, not used to being handled, and munched on his ham as a reflex, his tentacles curling around Killer's fingers to ensure stability. In case of stress, eating was apparently the right thing to do, which made Killer snort: Horror did the same thing.

- Want to go in the hood ?

Nightmare nodded, trembling on the hand, he didn't feel safe this far from the ground but at least the hood would be more stable than a hand. Killer carefully placed him next to it, letting le bitty crawl inside at his own speed. Nightmare shifted once inside but ended up finding a comfortable position, letting only his head pick through the fluff. It was so warm here, and so soft too... he felt a gentle pat on his head that made him tense a bit, but he quickly relaxed, seeing that the contact wasn't painful and was even enjoyable...

He fell backward in the hood when Killer moved and had to grab some of the fluff to sit up again, the last piece of his ham in his mouth.

- So you already know the kitchen and the living room, which is also the dinning room, so all that is left is the bathroom and our bedrooms !

He announced as he walked up some stairs before pausing in a hallway with two doors on each side. He opened the first door on the left.

- This is the bathroom !

Nightmare stood up in the hood to look over the furr. It was a small room, with a bathtub, a shower, some cabinets and a sink.

- But it's too big for you so I'll make you a lil' bathtub, don't worry.

They left the room, Nightmare sliding back inside the hood. It was so warm inside of it... warm and cozy...

- That is Horror's room !

Killer exclaimed. Nightmare slowly looked up, seeing a rather messy bedroom with what looked like to be a record player with the records in a box next to it. Did Horror like listening to music ? Nightmare didn't see any books, but given the fact that Killer said he couldn't read it wasn't really surprising. The bitty yawned as they closed the door to go to the next room.

- That is Dust's ! I'm not allowed to go inside.

He said as he opened the door to enter.

- Good thing I don't care.

There was a strong smell of chemicals inside and Nightmare could see many bottles and notebooks opened. No doubt Dust liked to make some experiments... they didn't spend too much time here and closed the door again. Nightmare struggled to keep his eye open.

- And last but not least... this is mine !

This room was messier than Horror's. Like, really messier, with clothes on the ground, bedsheets in a ball on the bed, knives stucked in the wall, ... if one day Nightmare slept in a room, he would chose Horror's. He didn't like the smell in Dust's one. But, for now, he was more likely to take a nap in Killer's hood. He didn't want to, he didn't feel safe enough to do so, but he had such a stressfull day, he just couldn't fight it any longer, he really needed to sleep... he looked up one last time to see that Killer was talking about his collection of knives, but he couldn't understand the words as he was already drifting away, but it was okay, he just needed five minutes... just fives minutes...

- So yeah that's it ! Soooo, where do you want to sleep ?

Killer asked, but received no answer.

- Lil' guy ?

Still nothing.

- Nightmare ? ... oh shit I dropped you ??

He turned his head to look over his shoulder, shoving a hand inside his hood, he let out a relieved sight when his fingers came in contact with the bitty's little tentacles as he made a tiny grumpy noise. He carefully scooped him to hold him in his hand, seeing that he was asleep, he gently pat his head with a loving smile. He put him back in his hood before leaving his room, seeing how he started to shake from the cold air.

- Sleep well Nightmare, and welcome to the family...

Killer already loved their little bitty so much, he hoped he would rapidly get accustomed to them and trust them, he really wanted him to be happy here... he was their little guy now.

- the end ... for now ? -

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! Ok so at one point I remember when answering an ask you said that when making animal based characters to just stay away from making any rat ones because of negative connotations (which I totally get)

So my question is would it be ok to have a whole humanoid race that is mildly based on mice? They look like humans but their ears vaguely look mouse-ish, they have tails, and their feet are sort of like paws. I am considering two different options with the tails in case I should stay away from the mouse thing, one looks like a mouse tail (kind of the main thing making them mice themed) and the other is a similar shape but fluffy especially at the end (A little like some versions of unicorn tails I've seen)

I would like to include disabled characters so if the mouse thing still isn't recommended I'll redesign them

Hello!

Most of the time when we advise that people avoid a certain trope/concept, it isn't a complete ban on it. It's generally more of a "be careful with how you approach this" type thing.

For example, we often advise against making a disabled character that's a villain because of their disability. If your only disabled character is a villain with chronic pain that kills people because their disability stops them from their dream job, that's not great. BUT if you have this same character and you also have a wheelchair user who runs the tech stuff for the hero side (Oracle-style, for my DC folks) and a Deafblind hero who leads the charge against the villains and an autistic sidekick and an amputee henchman for the villain and several able bodied villains and so on, then its less of a problem. It might not be gold medal representation but because you're no longer equating disability with tradegy and hatred and instead showing that villain as part of a cast with diverse stories and, more importantly, as a person with their own unique experiences, it's much better.

This is all a very long way of saying that most tropes that are generally best avoided can still be okay in some contexts.

In this case, having this whole species is completely fine and it's great that you want to include disabled characters! I see nothing wrong with this.

If you had a world where the characters were all anthropomorphic animals and the only rat character was also your own disabled character, that'd be a bit of a problem because it's singling out your disabled character -- presumably to poke at their disability.

In the concept you've presented, though, being part of this species is a trait all (Or most) of your characters share. Which is fine!

As a few final notes of caution:

If you're worried about certain unintended connotations or messaging coming across, it's generally best to spread your cast out as much as possible. By this, I mean that if you have other species in this world, don't have all your disabled characters be part of this one species. Likewise, don't have every member of this species be disabled. Instead, consider having your disabled characters be from different species. For example, have an amputee character be from this species but have a blind character be from another species.

Certain specific disabilities do have individual associations to watch out for. Be careful making associations between a character with a cleft lip and hares/rabbits (Because of the derogatory term "harelip" that has been used). Likewise but to a lesser extent, be careful with associations of blind people and moles, mice, and bats. This is because of the naked mole rat, the Three Blind Mice, and "blind as a bat" respectively. There are a few of these out there.

This is less of a warning and more just something to consider but keep in mind how their animal traits can be impacted by their disability. Would a character that's paralyzed have use of their tail? Would a blind character trip over their tail or would their same "sense of self" extend to the tail like it would an arm or leg? How would a character in a wheelchair adapt their chair to their tail? Etc.

Hopefully some of this is helpful!

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

[sepublic]

I can't remember if I've already said it, I don't think I have... But I can see the parallels to Bill and King, with the first and most obvious ones being their appearances; Specifically, Bill's 'costume' and King's natural look. They're both pretenders that way, Bill intentionally, while King was accidental when it came to his past.

They're scrawny little guys with delusions of grandeur, and they rely a lot on the bigger, taller people around them to help out; Such as Tarak and the other Titan Trappers, but even the Archivists. Likewise, King in S1 often had to resort to calling upon Luz or Eda to destroy his enemies for him.

And indeed, that obsession with destroying others to prove their strength is there; But Bill took it genuinely seriously, and because of that is a factor into King being an orphan, the last of his kind. But most of it can be attributed to the Archivists, whom I theorize made Bill immortal, which is why he's still alive even after all these years.

There's their relationships with one Archivist in particular, the Collector: Bill's is insincere and remote, he's using the kid for his own purposes not unlike Belos with the Titan, and also like Belos period. King doesn't do that, but had he met the Collector a lot earlier, he could've! He very well could've. The Collector even mentions Bill as one of the people they felt used and betrayed by, and they mistook King for another in their paranoia and cycle of being hurt.

And what intrigues me is that based on the murals we see, there might've been a giant Titan Trapper that helped the Archivists kill the Titans; Of course, this could be more of a visual metaphor for the group as a whole. But a part of me wonders if this was meant to be Bill in his youth, and that's why Tarak holds him in such high regard. Obviously he's a puny wimp now, but considering it's been probably millions of years since those times, Bill is technically looking great for his prehistoric age.

I can see the parallels between this and the stylized depictions of King's 'original' form as the King of Demons. They're both giant monsters who slay their enemies and have followers, although by the present-day Bill's an actual example of someone past his prime; All of the other Trappers are presumably descendants, because they've never seen a living Titan themselves.

This makes Bill the last of his generation, his 'kind' in a sense; And so is King. Because of Bill and the Archivists; Likewise, Bill can only be the last survivor because of the Archivists, per my speculations. Him, the Collector, and King had their worlds rocked by the Archivists in different ways, as I wonder if Bill wasn't even able to successfully hunt Titans until his 'Grand Huntsmen' came along.

But now he's ruling over people who can only dream of that fame, and King ruled over toys and plushes and the like. The Titan Trappers are fake; They wear fake costumes, they call themselves that despite only one having actually had that experience, it's a delusional dream. And King was also fake, a kid who misunderstood the world around him and was admittedly encouraged to by his mother. Of course, the way Eda feeds into King's dreams is different than how Bill does his younger Trappers.

I dunno; Maybe the Archivists are the older, powerful, magical beings like Eda; Bill and King, as I've explained; And the Collector and Luz, who have their own magic. But Bill's relationship with the Collector is so parasitic and insincere, whereas King looks up to Luz as his big sister and his worst lies to her have been merely kiddish (because he's a kid).

Makes it all the more fitting that King and Bill have a pseudo-confrontation in the finale... Maybe not exactly, because it's ambiguous as to how conscious Bill actually was in his puppet state. You can't help but wonder what happened to Bill and the other Trappers; If him and Tarak were turned into puppets, they must've either arrived at the isles during the two-month time skip, or the Collector's spies scoured the entire planet.

I wonder if the Collector recognizes Bill pre-imprisonment? If he worked with the Archivists, they might've seen him... If they didn't then, they did when Bill needed a new Archivist after the adults ditched him. Oh to see that scene of Bill trying to take his 'rightful place' next to the Collector, only to see an actual Titan there, and King has all the power to destroy this dude. But after all of his self-reflection, and not wanting to enable this behavior from a kid he's trying to make reasonable, King just settles for "These guys make me uncomfortable, puppet them" and that's it.

But afterwards... Did the Collector free them too? And the Titan Trappers were sentenced to community service like Kikimora? Did everyone agree to turn a blind eye to Bill at least, and he's trapped as a puppet somewhere in the depths of the Archives, or somewhere else, to be forgotten forever...

Okay that last bit sounds too dark for the protagonists and the lessons they're trying to impart to the Collector but man. To be a broken record, I have to wonder if we would've gotten more conflict and a proper resolution between King and Bill. To see him realize from the nightmare sequence or something else that Bill contributed towards and probably killed some of King’s older siblings, the ones he mourned and wanted so badly as well!!! To have King WEH Bill in the face and destroy his mask; Maybe it’s a second death for that one sibling of King’s, but like their dad (augh) it at least keeps their body from being desecrated and misused any further, and exposes Bill for the liar he is!!!

[petrichormeraki]

Tips For Writing C!TommyInnit, From A Loser With Brainrot

Tommy is LOUD. Whether he's angry or excited or playing around, he's usually yelling. He is not aware of how loud he is unless he's specifically raising his voice to overpower the conversation (which he usually only does when he's angry at someone/thing, or to make a point). He's only quieter when he's serious, at peace, or very very sad

TOMMY IS SMART!!! He thinks things through when he has time to do so. He is strategic and considers other people's behaviors when he plans something out (ex building the tower overlooking the prison slowly, so Sam didn't get as suspicious, and making a point to only inhabit it when it was dark to be less noticed). Tommy knows how people act/think if he's familiar with them, and he uses that to his advantage.

However, Tommy's very impulsive, and his emotions overrun his brains very often. This happens the most when he's angry or scared.

Tommy lets people take pity on him 80% of the time. Unless it's a serious situation and he's trying to prove himself, (ex Logstedshire) he LOVES free shit and he very easily falls into the "oh poor little TommyInnit, he has no family to his name and is dirty and cold, won't you spare some netherite for his poor soul?" narrative.

Tommy is childish. He bickers over things that don't really matter and is the epitome of "he started it!!" when he gets in trouble. He also constantly nags at people until they cave to get what he wants. I have no idea how CC!Tommy plays being a youngest sibling SO WELL since he's an only child but that is exactly who C!Tommy is

Tommy is not brave. He hides behind people to avoid danger and he runs away from conflict if he can. The times where this didn't happen (Exile, Final Disc Confrontation, November 16th) were because he was backed into a corner, literally or figuratively, and was forced to fight back.

more under the cut bc this got very long lmao

Tommy is not very private UNLESS it concerns his past trauma. He will talk about what he's doing, every thought in his head, and what he thinks of everything he sees, UNLESS it's recounting what happened to him. Getting information like that from the source is like pulling teeth, even for people he trusts completely. The reasoning for this (best as I can tell anyway) is that he simply just doesn't want to relive it.

Tommy has a very black and white way of thinking about his allies. If someone helps his enemy, they are his enemy too. He doesn't really care about personal motivations or reasonings unless they're close to him (Tubbo) and he does not forgive easily.

However, he also recognizes power. When Tommy ran from Logstedshire, he ran to the person who killed his best friend because he knew Technoblade was very powerful against Dream. Another example is when he ran to Phil when Dream escaped prison and went after him, even though Phil destroyed L'manburg WITH Dream AND killed Wilbur, two things that Tommy vehemently hates him for. Tommy seemed to not be thinking very clearly when either of these events happened, so this may have been a purely impulsive decision made out of fear.

Tommy squirrels away his riches. He only breaks into his ender chest when he really needs the resources, ie diamond armor and weapons for a showdown. He actually has quite a lot of diamonds and gold if I recall correctly, but he still resorts to stone/iron tools and no armor in his day to day.

Kind of related to above, Tommy keeps momentos of people he cares about in his ender chest, where no one can reach them but him. He is terrified of losing these things because they remind him of when times were good, and he had people he loved. (This was actually said by him, I just don't remember the stream sorry ;;w;;)

Tommy is very stubborn. He doesn't cooperate very often and views the way he does things as the best way. The only time to my memory that he defaulted to someone else was when Wilbur was alive (L'manburg, Pogtopia)

Tommy likes maintaining his surroundings. This includes harvesting crops and replacing them, patching up creeper holes, and replacing missing blocks from his house or the Prime Path. He does these things without anyone telling him to, on his "down time" if you will, and doesn't really call attention to it

TOMMY LOVES ANIMALS. He doesn't like killing them and tries to eat carrots instead of killing for meat (although he doesn't seem to have qualms with eating meat that other people give him)

Tommy has a soft spot for kids/small creatures. He tried very hard to hate Michael because he was bitter about Ranboo and Tubbo's friendship but he broke almost instantly if I remember correctly. He fawns over "cute" things and gets thoroughly distracted from whatever he was doing if he notices a baby chicken or something

Tommy is rarely still. He almost always is doing something with his hands (ie building, chopping trees, etc) if he's in conversation with someone. The only times where he actually sits down and stops is when he's watching the sunset on his bench, or having a self reflection moment/processing heavy information.

I'll stop here, but I plan on making another post that more goes into his speaking mannerisms and whatnot. I hope this helps somebody trying to write C!Tommy, feel free to send me an ask if you have specific questions!!

[aotopmha]

In celebration of spoiler embargo lifting I want to talk about probably my favourite dungeon in Dawntrail so far and how it examplifies the shift in dungeon design while also being really cool narratively.

This dungeon is Tender Valley.

First, I think this might be one of the few dungeons in the game I absolutely love all of the bosses from on a gameplay level.

Barreltender flexing between attacks is super fun, but almost all of his attacks being broadening AoE effects makes him a really fun dance. You have just enough time to react to them.

I think the exploding cactusses are the hardest to dodge because the safe spot is so specific and fairly small, but you never have too much downtime and always have to pay attention somewhat.

It's a great example of bosses being more engaging, rather than necessarily "harder" and I think a great fresh take on a classic Final Fantasy enemy.

Anthracite, on the other hand, has a really interesting dance that you need to read your environment for solving.

There are the obvious big AoE bombs, but there are also two different shapes of holes that lead to the labyrithine sewer system.

If a bomb falls into the round opening on one side, the attack will go through the round openings on one side of the arena.

If the bomb falls into the square hole on the other side, the attack will go through the square holes you can see on the other side of the arena.

It took me a bit to figure out there were two different shapes, but combining this with the base AoE can make for a little more involved dance, since, once again, you can't sit still for long.

This boss is a great example of also testing your environmental awareness in a little more of an inventive way than maybe some other encounters.

As you move towards the third boss, the environment changes and enemies styled after the Skydeep Cenote.

Or are they?

And then there's an interesting mob situation where you enter a room, which the mob essentially uses to attack with lasers while you have to use the walls in the room to dodge them.

But just like with Skydeep Cenote, the reference point is now pretty obvious.

This is strangely similar to some of the mobs and contraptions in Qitana Ravel.

And who else is the final boss, but the Greatest Serpent of Ron-Tural!

Yes, Tural!

I has such a grin on my face when I saw it.

It's a great punchline if you've done at least even the starting part of the questline in Rak'tika with Quinfort and his dreams suddenly fit perfectly within lore. He just had dreams of The Source.

It's like a perfect capstone to that questline.

I suspected the Ronkan connection the moment I saw Y'Shtola with those tablets in the trailer, but considering the Ronkan principles of "history being learned, not remembered" and in turn their similarity of the Yok Huy's principles of "we die when we are forgotten", it all falls into place in a great way.

Very smooth ties here. Now that we have this setup all nicely established, I wonder what else they plan to do with it.

It's "minor" enough on its own that it can just stay as a fun bit to further confirm Source/Shard connections, but I feel like Ronkans and the Yok Huy just might have some more important lore stuff coming.

We have the Shard travel plot line with Unukalhai and Cyella and the 13th and Ryne and Gaia also still truly looking to restore the First.

I'm curious if Rak'tika might just become extremely important regarding these plots now since we have this clear connection.

But this also is an optional dungeon.

We'll see.

To finish off talking about the dungeon itself, though, The Greatest Serpent of Ron-, I mean Tural, combines the two aspects of engagement of the previous two bosses.

You have the reactive aspects with reading the Bouncy Council (great name) and the various AoEs and the environmental aspect with Greatest Labyrith, where you have to find the correct path of arrows out of the maze.

I think there are varying solutions for the maze, but I'm not entirely sure. It's another great call back to Rak'tika, though.

I enjoyed the puzzle solo duties a bunch and I still think they're some of the more cool and unique ones from the game.

It's a very specific kind of "great" to me.

Some are really great at specifically gameplay/story integration (Amaurot, Dead Ends), some have really great set pieces/bosses (Matoya's Relict, Bardam's Mettle) and some just combine some really cool important "side" lore elements with great bosses (The Twinning).

Tender Valley feels like a Twinning moment to me where technically it is all "side" stuff, but not really because it is still connected to pretty important big picture stuff.

I'm curious what they'll do with it. And honestly okay with the answer is "nothing much", but I also don't buy it wouldn't have more importance in some way.

[clonedchaos]

GUYS GUYS GUYSSSS IM LOSING MY MINNNNDDDD TRANSFORMERS ONE WAS SO GOOODDDD THIS IS LEGIT ME RN:

Okay, but seriously though, I really enjoyed it and want to make plans to see it again. So if you haven’t already, I highly recommend the film. It’s criminally underrated in terms of the box office, so go show it the love it so rightfully deserves!!! 🥰

Anywho, if you want to hear nonsensical spoilers, feel free to read below the cut.

Childhood me would never think I’d be somewhat shipping Optimus and Megatron but like… yeah I understand what y’all are getting at in your tumblr posts. (Fr though, their friendship was so sweet. D-16’s betrayal really did hurt. And it’s been a while since I’ve seen such a well done relationship like that in the media. They’re just two silly lads who genuinely cared about one another and yet got driven apart by vengeance.)

Every single time Bee said “Badassatron” I’m sobbing— He’s such a goober. Bumblebee was always my favorite as a kid, so I have a soft spot for him (even if Orion and D16 were my favorites in this film). “KNIFE HANDS” he’s a safety hazard. (Also him being slightly insane and making inanimate objects his friends to talk to and being self-aware that they’re fake— I AM STEVE?!)

Sentinel essentially saying “Nu-uh” to D-16 when he was rambling about his plans.

Why did they keep saying miner? 😭

Starscream is such a neeerddd per usual. Dang he’s simping for Megatron (I’m kidding y’all, I miss poking fun at the silly plane man)

Trion basically adopted these tiny 4 robots and yes it is canon 💯 (Bro shouldn’t have died, I wanted silly dad shenanigans 😭)

Orion- “Hey Darkwing, my finger can transform”. Meanwhile D16: *knocks Orion the heck out and then proceeds to get punched by Darkwing* My favorite part of the movie ngl

I am very Bumblebee core tbh. He’s just a silly little guy. A silly guy with knife hands.

Bee saying his dream was to work for the government had the theater and I howling (this was a very fun theater experience actually, loved the vibes)

The boys are just casually scared of Elita. Girlboss 💅 (Also I love that her and Arachnid had a fight. I vaguely remember them having a fight/maybe rivalry? In Transformers Prime. Speaking of which, I need to rewatch that. Its been years and I never finished it)

I’m sorry but the whole “Starscream” namesake and then D-16 damaging his vocal cords is obvious irony but still. Nice touch.

”Why did you gag him?” “He wouldn’t stop talking.” “Even when he was unconscious?” “ESPECIALLY WHEN HE WAS UNCONSCIOUS!” Bee’s certified yapper moment

Orion’s whole arc and relationship with D-16 is sad when you pair it with how they are in other iterations. Like, the reason Orion/Optimus would’ve been a stickler for the rules and order was because he was afraid of losing someone again like he lost D-16. (I can’t remember if their backstory is the same all across the board, its been a while since I brushed up on transformers stuff)

The animation was genuinely very pretty. I love the little magic sand particles and the way Megatron’s eyes have a glow trail as specific examples.

The child in me kept kicking my legs and screaming at the references. The mask! Roll out! When D got his signature arm gun I internally lost it. And Chris Hemsworth’s voice at the end of the film was a really really good Optimus voice.

“Is it… getting closer?” Meanwhile Bee: *running away for his life* (both him and Orion running at the start of the film absolutely took me out)

Okay I might do a follow up to this tomorrow, it’s late and I have work in the morning. I’ll think on some more things I want to add as well as some headcanons! Stay tuned!

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Immortalized

Summary:

During a museum visit, Dream tells Hob the story of two star-crossed lovers in a painting and what it means to him.

Word Count: 3,055

Notes:

For Dreamling Week Day 3: Painting

[Read on AO3]

---

“Would you recognize everything in here?” Hob asked as they leisurely walked around the gallery. “Do you somehow sense every artwork before they’re made?”

“Not always,” Dream replied, looking at the paintings they passed by. “If I do not make a conscious effort to see into a daydream, I do not perceive them unless they are particularly vivid.”

Hob had chosen a museum this week for their meeting, remembering what Dream said last time about wanting to see more of the city as a human would. Not much in museums could surprise Hob, and he was curious to know how Dream would feel about the place.

“Oh good, I was afraid you’d find it boring here,” Hob said playfully. He didn’t really think Dream would get bored in a museum; he knew that his friend was more interested in learning about humans now than back then. Still, it was always a little intimidating when it was his turn to choose a meeting place. He had seen the Dreaming, and it was hard to think of what could match up to the things that Dream created regularly.

“Museums are never a bore; humans are unceasingly interesting. You have taught me that.” Dream said the words with such casual sincerity, and Hob couldn't help but smile at how comfortable his friend was now at expressing sentiments.

“In addition, it is fascinating to see works of art gathered in one place. One creation can inspire another, which can transcend mediums. This painting, for example.” Dream stopped in front of a painting that depicted a man stabbed through with a sword lying under a tree. A woman was standing above him and appeared to fall on the sword herself.

“This is only one version of the many paintings that are derived from the original written tale. Apart from the visual works, plays and other stories have also been adapted from it.”

Hob read the caption beside it, indicating that the title of the piece was Pyramus and Thisbe and it was made by an Italian artist named Pietro Bianchi in the 18th century.

“What’s the original story about? I don’t think I’d been paying attention to art much during that time.” Hob kept his tone casual, but he never liked remembering what he was like in that century, and Dream must have sensed his discomfort somehow.

“You are not that man anymore, Hob Gadling,” Dream said gently.

Hob nodded and gave a small smile. He wanted to kick himself for potentially bringing the mood down during what was supposed to be a fun day, but Dream didn’t seem to mind as he turned to look at the painting again.

Dream began the story in his even baritone.

“Pyramus and Thisbe were lovers, but their families had a bitter rivalry. Despite their circumstances, they found a way to communicate through a crack in the wall. One day, they decided to elope, and arranged to meet at the base of a mulberry tree. Thisbe arrived first. While she waited, a lioness approached to get a drink from the nearby source of water. The beast looked fearsome, as it still had blood on its jaws from a fresh hunt, and Thisbe ran away to hide in a cave, dropping her veil in her haste.

The lioness came across the veil, and chewed on it for a time before leaving it mangled and bloody. Then Pyramus arrived. He recognized the veil as belonging to his lover, and fell into despair as he mistook the sight to mean that Thisbe had been killed. He cursed himself for not arriving sooner to protect her. He kissed the veil, before drawing his sword and plunging it into his body and drawing it back out. Thisbe returned from her hiding place, hoping to warn her lover of the lioness. She saw his dying form and called out his name. Pyramus opened his eyes and saw his beloved just before the last of his breath left him.

Thisbe tore at her hair and cried and embraced the body, but there was nothing to be done. She saw the bloody veil and sword, and understood what had happened. She spoke a vehement wish to the gods and their feuding parents to have them lie in the same tomb, for not even death could part them. She kissed her lover’s cold lips, and felled herself on the same sword that took his life, still warm with his blood.

The gods felt moved by her prayers, and honoured their memory by permanently making the fruits of the mulberry tree a shade of crimson, which had been previously white but had been coloured by the spray of their blood. Thisbe’s wish of their remains being together was granted, and their ashes were laid to rest in the same urn.”

Hob kept staring at Dream for several seconds before realising that the story was over. Dream’s voice was calm for the entire retelling, and held an engaging timber that kept Hob entranced even when he was done speaking.

Hob blinked a few times and turned to look at the painting again. “Bloody hell. I mean, I know the classics are chock-full of tragedies but… Wait, were they real?” he asked Dream. “Pyramus and Thisbe. Because you’ve told me that some people in the myths actually existed back then.”

Dream shook his head. “They are entirely fictional, though their circumstances are far from unheard of. Humans have had rivalries countless times throughout the ages, and have experienced love and its complications even more often. That is why such stories are timeless. From what I gather, such tragic misunderstandings are a prevalent theme in the most well-known stories in this century.”

“Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet,” Hob said without thinking. “Hang on, Shakespeare’s play is derived from this story?”

“Indeed.”

“Well, no wonder you picked this painting to explain. Your favourite playwright adapted it.” Hob narrowed his eyes in mock distaste.

Dream frowned. “I have never said that he is my favourite playwright.”

“Oh, so you personally visit and talk to every artist you like and Shaxberd wasn't an exception?” Hob wasn't really upset about the whole thing anymore, but it had become a sort of inside joke for them and it was always endearing to see Dream’s reactions whenever he brought it up.

Dream gave him a look that was probably meant to look unimpressed but Hob recognized as fond. “I do not understand why you are still—how would today's children say it—salty about him.”

Hob loved it whenever Dream deliberately used modern slang in their banters—hearing his velvet voice was impossibly endearing—but he suppressed a smile. “Maybe if you didn’t ditch me to go hang out with that guy, I wouldn’t be,”

Dream glanced at the ceiling in his version of an eyeroll, matching Hob’s playfulness. “You are the guy I am hanging out with now, are you not?”

Hob grinned. “Damn right, I am. Every week for the past three months. Are you saying I’m your favourite, after all?” he teased.

Dream stared at him for several seconds before answering. “Yes.”

Hob’s grin slowly melted off his face. He had expected a vague response or maybe a proper eyeroll, not Dream looking at him with a gaze that pinned him to place and made something flutter in his chest.

“It is because of you, Hob Gadling, that you and I avoided a tragedy similar to that of Pyramus and Thisbe. Unlike Pyramus, you did not assume the worst of my absence. You waited for me. Even when my own subjects did not.” Dream’s voice grew quieter. “Even after I had been cruel to you.”

“Hey, none of that,” Hob quickly said. “You’ve already apologised about 1889 and more than made up for it. You’re not that man anymore, Dream,” he said pointedly, repeating his friend’s words from earlier.

The soft smile that lifted the corners of Dream’s lips outshone everything else in that gallery, and Hob felt himself smiling back.

“You are a good friend, Hob Gadling. I can only hope to deserve such loyalty.”

“You already deserve it, Dream. And you’ll always have it.”

“As you shall have mine.” Dream stepped closer, his voice a soft rumble that sent goosebumps across Hob’s skin. He glanced at the painting again. “They had arranged to meet at the base of the mulberry tree, and when one of them arrived later, it spelled the end for them.” He returned his gaze to Hob. “But you, Hob Gadling…”

Hob swallowed, unable to look away from the intensity of Dream’s eyes.

“Nothing would deter you. Our place of meeting had closed down, and you simply built another. Even without knowing whether I would still come back.”

“I always knew you would come back,” Hob said softly. “And I wanted to be there when you did.”

Dream took another step closer, and Hob could feel his heart race in anticipation. “There have been countless stories of people torn apart by time and misunderstandings. But because of you, such a fate did not befall us. I needed you to know how important that is to me. How important you are. To me.”

“Dream…” Hob breathed. He felt like he could topple over at any moment. When Dream first showed up at the Inn, it felt like the sun coming out after a harsh winter. When Dream kept showing up, week after week, Hob felt much more alive than he ever did before, and he didn’t dare ask for anything else.

And now Dream was just saying all these things to him, on a random Saturday afternoon, reaching into his most secret hopes and lighting him up from the inside.

“That is why I chose this painting to talk about. Why I am choosing you. Now. If you will have me.”

“If— Wh— Dream—” Hob stuttered, six centuries of emotions rising up within him all at once.

“My heart is yours, Hob Gadling. To do with as you wish.” Dream spoke quietly, his expression soft and open and with an adoration that Hob never thought would be directed at him.

“You…” Hob grabbed the front of Dream’s coat with both hands and leaned his forehead against Dream’s shoulder, taking deep breaths to calm himself. “How could you do this to me right now…”

He had been so careful, keeping a hold on his self-control every week after the next. But now everything came rushing back to the forefront of his mind. Everything he had ever wanted with Dream, what he wanted to do with Dream—

“Hob. I am afraid I cannot hold you here as you wish for me to do.”

Hob's eyes widened and he jumped back, letting go of Dreams' coat. “Shit, I forgot you can see daydreams. Sorry, I…” he trailed off when he saw Dream’s playful smile.

Dream leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. “I am not allowed to touch you. The sign at the door clearly prohibits touching the masterpieces.”

Hob's face burned. Thoughts raced through his head faster than he could track. “Take me somewhere else, then,” he managed to choke out.

The mirth on Dream's face disappeared, replaced by an expression of want so palpable that Hob wanted to dive in and taste it.

Dream’s eyes turned into galaxies. He grabbed Hob's wrist and in the next instant Hob felt himself pressed back against a tree, Dream’s mouth descending on his.

Hob could only arch into the touch, his hands finding their way into Dream’s hair, pulling him closer.

Their kisses burned with centuries of longing, the yearning to be even closer with every passing second, chasing after the heat of finally being together, and Hob was all too happy to let it consume him.

Dream’s tongue slid against his and he groaned, gripping the back of Dream’s neck to keep him in place, not intending to let him go for as long as humanly possible.

Time stopped making sense. Hob didn't know or care how long he'd been pressed against Dream, and when he broke the kiss it was only because words began rushing out of him beyond his control.

“I'm yours, Dream,” he panted. “My heart. Everything. Anything you want.”

Dream pressed his forehead against Hob’s, catching his breath. And it nearly drove Hob mad to realise that he was the reason for it, that he affected Dream enough to the point of breathing.  “You are…. everything I want.”

They held each other like that, in the warm quiet moment when words were no longer needed.

Then Hob noticed that the leaves of the tree that shaded them were gold, and the clouds passing by were a glimmering silver against a backdrop of a pale indigo sky.

“Are we in the Dreaming?” Hob asked in surprise, only now recognizing the familiar feeling of being in Dream’s realm.

“Indeed. I did not want to be interrupted.”

“Wait, then where's my body? I'm not passed out in the museum, am I?” Though Hob wouldn't really mind either way. It'd be well worth it.

“Your body is safe in your own bedroom. We took a short detour before coming here.”

Hob blinked. “I'd say you move fast, but I'd been waiting for this for a long time.” He smiled and caressed Dream’s face, running his thumb over a pale cheekbone.

“Then wait no longer, my beloved. You have me now.”

Those words seemed to spark something inside Hob, and heat pooled low in his gut. His hands held firm on Dream's shoulders.

“You know, I have no rules in my bedroom against touching me.”

There was a rumble in Dream’s chest that only stoked the fires threatening to consume Hob, and he could practically feel his own pupils dilating.

“Hob Gadling.” Dream said the words like a promise.

Hob felt himself return to his body, and he only had time to register the feel of his mattress against his back before Dream was upon him again.

***

“How're the crêpes?” Hob asked after taking a bite of his waffle.

“The flavour of the fruit mixed with the chocolate syrup is a good combination; I can understand the appeal. Though I still prefer the food at The New Inn.”

Hob chuckled. “I think you might be biased, love.”

The corner of Dream’s mouth lifted. “Perhaps.”

Hob grinned and allowed himself to feel smug about that. “But seriously, though, this is a good place,” he looked around.

Dream had chosen a café this week. Nothing fancy, but it had a very homey feel, and there was currently an art exhibit going on as part of their marketing. Paintings hung on the walls, and small sculptures lined the tables on one side.

“Since we looked at well-known classics last time, I thought it would be fitting to view works by today's artists. These are the new stories.”

Hob smiled. There was such high regard in Dream's voice, and he hoped those artists could somehow sense how proud the Prince of Stories was of them.

Hob paid more attention to the artworks, which was easier now that there were fewer people than when they first came in. A particular piece on the wall across from their table caught his attention; it was an oil painting of a sunny park where people were lounging in, but the trees had gold leaves, and the sky was a pale indigo with silver clouds.

Hob frowned and went over to the painting, his eyes landing on two people on the left. They were painted from the side, one was leaning against a tree and the other stood pressed against him, wearing a long black coat. They were definitely snogging.

“Dream—” Hob turned around to see Dream standing right behind him with a knowing smile. “Did you transport us to some poor bloke's dream last week?” he asked incredulously, keeping his voice down.

“Not exactly. At the time, I did not have a specific area of the Dreaming in mind. I simply wanted us to be somewhere private. But dreamers roam around my realm with a certain degree of freedom, and a handful of them were in the same place as we were. Most of them forget the details of their dreams upon waking up, but this particular artist had been hoping for inspiration, an idea to paint for this event. And I believed it would be a kindness to help him remember the details of his particular dream a little more vividly than the others.”

“A kindness, really?” Hob raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile from the ridiculous stunt that his deity of a boyfriend just pulled.

“Yes.” Dream spoke evenly, but there was a gleam in his eye that Hob knew all too well.

Hob looked back at the painting and made a face at how his figure was drawn from such an awkward angle.

“I look terrible,” he complained.

“I look worse.”

Hob turned to him and was about to say that Dream didn't look bad in the painting at all, but something about the tone of Dream’s voice and his playful smirk sparked a memory.

“Is that meant to be me?” Hob looked down at the drawing that Lady Constantine placed at their table. “I look terrible.” He glanced at Dream. “You look worse.”

Hob chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. “Finally realised I was flirting then? Took you long enough.”

“Hm.” Dream hummed and stepped closer. “Shall we make up for lost time? I would be more than happy to provide you with two centuries’ worth of… experience,” he looked at Hob from under his eyelashes. “And then some.”

Hob swallowed as he felt a familiar heat roil in his gut. “That's not fair. Why do you always try to seduce me in public?”

“Because I know I can always take you somewhere private.”

Hob narrowed his eyes, but he wasn’t nearly prideful enough to decline a proposition from Dream. “Just to my flat this time. I don't wanna be appearing in any more paintings.”

Dream’s lips turned up in a smile. “As you wish. I am not opposed to keeping you all to myself.”

Dream pressed a soft kiss to Hob's lips, and Hob leaned into the touch as he felt the familiar sensation of being transported away.

---

Notes:

The premise of this fic is inspired by this Tumblr post. I saw it years ago and my brain conjured it up again for this fic~

Big thanks to @patchyegg87 for her idea of Hob and Dream teleporting to an artist's dream and being painted <3

And to my brother as well for being an art geek and telling me various stories of lovers in classic paintings and such~

---

(Dreamling Week Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

[airenyah]

joongdunk vampire bl when??

maybe you've already seen my post "reasons why i need a sexy joongdunk bl". and if you have, then maybe you remember the bonus vampire section at the end

well, i've decided to start collecting vampire mentions here in this own separate post. here i will collect instances where either joong or dunk actually utters the word "vampire" but i will also include things somewhat adjacent to vampires (looking at you, lol fanfast 2023 dum dum neck biting action 👀)

i'll keep updating this post with every future vampire mention that i happen to come across. if you happen to find a vampire mention that is not yet in this post but you think it should be on the list, then do feel free to send me a link to it and i might just add it!! some of them, esp the vampire-adjacent things will be added based on vibes (my vibes, that is. it's my post so i get to put in it whatever the fuck i want)

like this one for example:

[hidden agenda ep12 pt4 (3:25); (24.09.2023)]

like yeah i know this one doesn't really count bc those are just some lines in a series from one fictional character to another fictional character that just happens to be played by dunk but like!! is it not true!! being a vampire (on tv) is dunk's dream job, is it not!!!

1. they WANNA play vampires

no but seriously tho, dunk wants to play a vampire, he explicitly said so:

[dunk x tops; (30.09.2023)]

Which role do you want to try playing the most? Up until now I've only gotten roles that speak a lot. Sometimes the lines are 3-4 pages long. If I get the opportunity, I want to try switching to a role that speaks little, that is calm and serious and where the emphasis is on using eyes and gestures to convey emotions. A fantasy or sci-fi role like a vampire might be worth a try.

[dunk for elle men; (13.11.2024)]

and so did joong, for that matter:

[l'officiel hommes thailand: "the act of being myself" | translation; (08.12.23)]

[joong's 23rd birthday event; (17.03.2024)] (extended gifset here)

2. dum dum

now, the dum dum performance deserves it's own little section lbr. bc seriously wtf was all that:

[LOL fanfest D1; (24.06.2023) | LOL fanfest D2; (25.06.2023)]

[arm share ep131; (02.08.2023)]

oh and make no mistake, it's not me who's making the dum dum performance about vampires, no, dunk is:

[let's talk bl s4 ep07; (16.08.2023)]

no seriously, let 👏 them 👏 play 👏 vampires!! they've already got experience in biting each other's necks!!!!

3. collection

ok from here on out i think i'll stop with the babbling and just have a collection of gifs with random vampire mentions that i'll just continue to add to this post whenever i come across more bc why the fuck not

[joong's tweet; (30.06.2023)]

[instagram live; (09.10.2023)]

[hidden hangout ep2; (14.11.2023)]

[original twitter thread | translation 1 | translation 2; (18.12.2023)]

context: joong asked what kind of plots fans would like to see him and dunk play

Translation/Summary:

Fan🗣️: In their past lives, Joong and Dunk were enemies who hated each other deeply. One day, a situation arose where one of them had to kill the other. However, the one who was killed (Joong) didn’t die permanently—it was more like his soul was temporarily sealed. He's been there ever since, even up to the present time. Joong☀️: Oh~ Is he still resentful? Fan🗣️: Yes, he is. He’s been sealed in the same spot for a very long time. Joong☀️: So, it’s like the vibe of an old Thai drama, right? starts singing an old Thai series opening theme Fan🗣️: Right, that kind of vibe. But this one is a fantasy genre. His soul is sealed, and we can say he became a vampire. He’s still alive but trapped—he can’t go anywhere, so he keeps living until he can earn a wealthy life. Joong☀️: How does a vampire live his life in Thailand? Fan🗣️: He has to stay in the same place. He can’t leave the restricted zone, and he can’t be exposed to sunlight. Joong☀️: If he lives in Thailand, where would he stay? Thonglor? (a road in Bangkok known for nightlife) Fan🗣️: More like Sukhumvit. (known for luxury malls) Joong☀️: Sukhumvit Vampire? Fan🗣️: Yes~ Joong☀️: Alright, we’ve got the name of the story, everyone. Sukhumvit Vampire 😆 Fan🗣️: So, one day in the present, Dunk comes into the zone controlled by Joong, the same place where Joong’s soul has been sealed. Joong☀️: You mean Sukhumvit? Fan🗣️: Yes. And when Joong sees Dunk, he thinks, "Isn’t this the person who killed me?" Joong☀️: Oh~ So Dunk has been reborn, and Joong’s like, "The person who killed me gets to be reborn, but I’m stuck here." Fan🗣️: Exactly! It’s like, "I’ve been stuck here for so long, while the country has advanced so much, and I’m still trapped." Joong☀️: So I’m the vampire, right? Fan🗣️: Yes, and Dunk killed you. But you can switch roles if you want, I’m not strict about it. I just want this kind of plot. Joong☀️: So, the story is that when they meet, Joong wants to kill Dunk for revenge. But then suddenly, he realizes, after Dunk's rebirth, that Dunk is actually pretty handsome! HAHAHAHA 🤣🤣 Fan🗣️: He believes that killing the person who killed him will break the curse and free him from the place where he’s sealed. Joong☀️: Will monks come at the end and tell us not to seek revenge anymore? 😆 Fan🗣️: No, at the end, they just stab each other to death. Joong☀️: Huh? Really? Do they actually kill each other, or do they hesitate because they’ve fallen in love? Fan🗣️: Actually, I was planning for them to kill each other, but then they realize there was a reason why they have to kill each other in the first place (since their past life). So, the reason is… Joong☀️: Fighting over bubble tea. Fan🗣️: Okay, Joong. Delicious 😂

[joong twitter space (back-up link); (22.09.2024) | translation 1 | translation 2]

[joong's tweet; (20.10.2024) | translation pt1 | translation pt2]

[joong's broadcast channel on instagram; (20.10.2024)]

[writingonleaves]

things you never said (things you'll never say to me) - nico hischier

pairing: nico hischier x original female character

warnings: swearing, sadness, angst, not my traditional fluff folks, very little dialogue, kinda a ramble disguised into a piece lol, google translated german, projection?? is that a valid warning

inspired by + title: "things i wish you said" by sabrina carpenter

word count: 2.8k

author's note: got into my feels randomly for this (incredible) song and decided to write something with it. also a part of @wyattjohnston 's lowkey loverfest 2k24!! hope you all enjoy this melancholy ride and please let me know what you think <3

*****

Nico Hischier has always been a leader. 

You ask anyone in Naters or Bern who knew him growing up and they would say the same thing — he’s a polite, young boy with so much talent and a sensible mind. He may be the youngest of three, but everyone’s always turned to Nico for guidance. With a calming voice paired with a warm smile, it’s rare for Nico to steer anyone wrong. 

And he sees it in himself too. Even when he was a rookie, when the C stitched into his jersey was only a blurred dream, he still felt like he had to lead by example. No one was expecting that of him, he knows that now, but he was a first overall pick, the weight of a losing team’s hopes on his shoulders. If he crumbled, those supporters’ hopes fell with him. His own hope would fall with him. 

It took a few years, a pandemic, another first overall pick, a shit ton of roster changes, a new coach and other things to walk into a locker room that wasn’t used to losing. And Nico prides himself as being a leader in that transition. C on his jersey or not, he would’ve done it. Because he doesn’t know how not to.

Leanna always said he didn’t know how to turn it off. 

When Nico had first met Leanna Spritz, it honestly was one of the worst first impressions he’s ever given. It was the morning after a brutal 6-1 loss against the fucking Flyers. The final score itself was bad, but the fact that it was against the Flyers rubbed more salt into the wound. He knew Lindy was gonna bag skate them all to hell and back the morning after and he just really wanted his cappuccino before to take away some of the bitterness. 

All up in his head, he had crashed literally into Leanna. Before they both could comprehend, her cold brew had spilled. Somehow, Nico got away with an unnoticeable splash on his hoodie and no spillage from his own drink. But Leanna wasn’t so lucky. Her brown sweater wasn’t dark enough to hide the fact that half of her cold brew was on it while the other spilled to the ground. 

“Fuck,” Nico had exclaimed, eyes widening and darting between her now coffee stained sweater, the empty cup on the ground and her red hair that only glistened with the sun rays. “Shit! I am so sorry. That’s totally my fault.”

Leanna had waved him away with a small chuckle as she dug into her purse for stray napkins. Far too nice for someone who now had coffee all over them because of him. “It’s okay. Mistakes happen.”

Nico looked at his watch and grimaced. Shit. He was going to be late to practice. And that would be even worse than usual with their horrible performance the night before. “Listen. I really want to buy you a coffee to make up for my clumsiness, but I’m gonna be late to work and-”

Leanna had nodded in understanding, lips quirked up. “Don’t worry about it. Promise. Go. Don’t be late for work.”

He had been so frazzled that all he remembered doing was blurting out another apology before practically running away, partially from embarrassment but also because he really did have to go. 

A week later, Nico went back to the coffee shop. In the back of his mind was the redhead who he still owed a coffee to. But Nico’s also realistic and he knew he’d probably never see her again. 

While he was patiently waiting in the long line, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He braced himself to interact with a fan, but turned around and was pleasantly surprised by who he did see. 

“I thought that was you,” she had said, pink beanie over her hair and a twinkle in her eye. “Not going to spill coffee again on me, are you? I’m wearing white today.”

Nico swallowed before his brain turned back on and he grinned. “Good eye. And no. I promise I’ll be less clumsy today. And I’m less in a rush.” They were next in line to order and he ordered first before turning to her. She had tried to deny him but he just raised an eyebrow until she gave the barista her order. 

“I’m really sorry again,” Nico said as they had shuffled out of line to wait for their drinks. “I hope the sweater didn’t stain.”

Leanna waved him off with her bright smile. “That sweater has been through too much for some coffee to ruin it. You don’t need to worry, Captain.”

Nico had been shocked that she knew who he was, which, in hindsight, is dumb. He’s not Jack, but he gets recognized a good amount around New Jersey still.

He cleared his throat. “Nico is fine.”

She smiled. “Okay, Nico. Well, I’m Leanna. Thank you for paying for my coffee. You didn’t have to, by the way, especially to clear your conscience.”

“That’s not why-well, it is. But I also, uh, are you in a rush?”

Nico remembers that day so well still, his English failing him despite living in North America for over five years as he basically asked Leanna on their first date right there and then. He remembers being thankful that she took some pity on him with her sweet smile and led them to a table. He probably would’ve stood there stuttering like a fool if she didn’t cut in.

“Nico?”

Nico blinks himself out of his memories as Jack walks into his living room. Sometimes he questions if he should’ve given Jack a key. 

“Hey. What’s up?”

“We have skate,” Jack gives him a look. “Dude, take a shower. Quickly. Or we’ll be late.”

“Right,” Nico says, stumbling over to the shower. As the water’s warming up, his eyes stop at a purple bottle tucked in the corner of the sink. Hair oil. Leanna always joked that she couldn’t live without it. His hands twitch to reach for the bottle just so he can smell the grapefruit scent, but he forces himself into the shower instead. 

He can hear Nina’s voice so clearly. Throw it away, she’d say in their mother-tongue that realistically Nico will never not be fluent in but sometimes is scared will slip away. Nina liked Leanna a lot, actually, the one time they met when she came to Jersey to visit last year. But Nina is also Nico’s sister, and cursed her name many times when Nico called her crying, waking her up in the middle of the night. She had stayed on the phone with him for three hours, letting him cry.

He forces himself to take a shower. To wake up a bit and shift his focus to the upcoming skate and game tonight. They’re playing the Rangers, which is just always a grind. He needs to be all in.

Nico keeps to himself while getting ready for practice, putting on his gear quietly while his teammates chatter about something or another around him. He speaks quickly to the equipment team about his skates and smiles in thanks. He catches a whiff of the perfume of their head of PR as she walks past in the hallway, and Nico swallows. 

Realistically, he knows it’s not the same one. But it’s floral and smells like jasmine, so it might as well be. 

As he’s driving home, he has the radio down low. He was never the one to fuss about putting his music on in the car. Because the world just works like that, a song that he doesn’t know the title to comes on. He hums along, because Leanna always played this song.

Instinctively, his fingers twitch to reach out to someone who won’t ever be in his passenger seat ever again. He can hear her voice, her thigh under his palm. It’s not safe to drive with one hand, she’d say with an amused laugh interlaced in her voice. He would always roll his eyes before giving her thigh a squeeze and keeping his hand there for the majority of their journey. 

He remembers that sentence bringing him comfort when they were driving to her sister’s house in upstate New York. He was scared shitless to meet her whole family for the first time to celebrate her cousin’s birthday. It was below freezing point outside, but his hands were so clammy that one would’ve thought it was summer. 

Leanna had put her hand in his hair at the nape of his neck. He had immediately calmed down. 

He swears if he focuses hard enough he can still smell the green tea shampoo Leanna used. It was always interesting to him, because the first thing he would think of when he saw her flaming red hair wasn’t green tea. It deserved something more bold attached to it. Like orange. Or vanilla. Or coconut.

Because Leanna was exactly that. Bold. Bright. Crashing into the lives of everyone in her path with her bright smile, loud laughter and a personality that sucked you in. 

Nico stops at a red light and absentmindedly looks to the right. His breath catches at the sight of a woman walking a beagle. Leanna always said that once she was more settled down, a beagle was the kind of dog she wanted to get, just like the dog she had by her side throughout her whole childhood. 

At one point, Nico had thought she meant settling down in Jersey. Never did she give the indication while they were together that she had meant London. 

He couldn’t force himself to unfollow Leanna on Instagram after the break-up. He catches himself way too often seeing if she still follows him. She does. And she even likes his posts most of the time. He checks.

Nico shouldn’t be surprised. Even though she cried so much when they broke up and he couldn’t handle it, through tears, she wished him nothing but the best. Even as she was actively breaking his heart.

As he pulls into the parking garage for his apartment complex, he kills the engine and just sits there. He should be focusing on the game tonight. Focusing on how they need to stop taking stupid penalties. Focusing on their positioning in the offensive zone. 

You think too much, honey. Leanna would say, kissing his forehead twice, something she started doing to calm him down. You just need to play hockey. Least that’s what you always tell me. Everything else will follow. 

And he would never admit it out loud — especially to Jonas — but he still repeats those words in his head. He’s not sure if it works, but it’s like a mantra. A routine. And hockey players know more than anyone how important routines are and how difficult they are to change. 

It’s been two months and three days. It’s annoying that Nico can still hear her voice in his head, clear as day. He hopes one day he’lll never be able to remember. But he also dreads the day that he’ll forget what she sounds like. 

He walks up into his apartment and pours out a glass of water, downing it in one go. The sun’s out for the first time in two weeks, and a small smile spills on his lips as he admires the sunlight through his glass windows. His eyes shift to a spot on one of the tables by the window on the right, where it seems like something is shining. His curiosity takes over and he walks over, a reminder popping into his brain that he needs to dust his apartment. Why does dust accumulate so quickly anyways? 

His stomach drops. One of her combs placed nonchalantly behind one of his plants. The shine is coming from the light hitting the red hair caught between the bristles. 

What the fuck?

Nico closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before hastily grabbing the comb and tossing it into the trash. She never officially moved in with him, but she was around the apartment enough to leave some things lying around here and there. He thought he had thrown everything out. Or more accurately, he trusted Jesper, Timo and Jack to do it for him during a particularly bad Saturday afternoon two weeks after everything fell to shit. 

He checks the time and sighs. He needs to nap or else everything will be thrown off. Checking his phone to make sure no one needs him, he plugs it in to charge by his bedside, ignoring a text from Nina he’ll answer when he wakes up.

It’s a text she sends a few times a week when she senses that her younger brother’s having a harder day. From almost 4,000 miles, she still knows. Nico’s always loved his sister, but he’s never felt more grateful to have her as he has in these last few months. 

eins zu zehn?? ❤️

One to ten, it translates to. On a scale of one to ten, how shitty or good are you feeling about it today? 

Nico sighs, responds back with a 6, and wills his mind to rest. 

Somehow, he wakes up decently well rested to his alarm. He stays in bed a few extra minutes, getting his mindset ready for gametime. He chooses to wear the gray three piece suit tonight. One of his more fancier fits. It is the Rangers, after all. 

It was Leanna’s favorite suit of his. She always joked he “ruined the look” when he slapped on his beloved white beanie. I love your hair. I wish you’d show it off more, she’d say.

He digs out the beanie from his clean laundry. 

He always leaves an hour or so to himself before he has to go to the rink. He usually spends it tidying up or doing things around his place to clear his head so he can come back after the game and just crash. 

Today, he replays the breakup in his mind. Or what he remembers of it, since he blocked a lot of it out. 

When you picture your future, do you see me in it at all? He had choked out, holding Leanna’s hands in his for what was the last time. 

It hadn’t helped that she had also been crying as she said her next words. Neeks, baby. It’s not you, it’s me. And I hate that I’m pulling that out, but it’s true. Maybe this isn’t the right time for us. 

Why can’t it be? Nico had said. Why can’t we make it work?

Maybe in the future, if things are different. She had said, biting her trembling lip. But even then, Nico knew they were empty promises. She’s too stubborn of a person to not bend the world her way. She just doesn’t want Nico to be a part of that world.

It’s not fair, he knows that realistically, but oftentimes he wonders if she ever loved him at all. That thought especially rode his mind after he saw her post a story on Instagram earlier last week. It was clearly a soft launch, with her hand in the hand of some faceless guy over dinner. Nico ended up scoring two goals that night out of sheer adrenaline and anger. 

Because all he’s ever wanted was for Leanna Spritz to be happy. Even now. Even after all of this. Even if it’s not with him. 

But fuck, she’s clearly moving on. Why can’t he?

He blinks, collapsing on his couch in the living room and staring at the wall. The last time he heard from her was a month ago, when he had gone down after a rough hit during a game against Minnesota. He ended up only being out for the next two games, but the hit hadn’t been pretty. His chest had taken the brunt of the damage. Everyone, including him, had been relieved that it wasn't more serious.

While he was getting checked out by the trainers the next morning, his phone had buzzed and he almost threw up. 

Leanna Spritz✨

I saw the hit last night. Hope you’re okay. Listen to the trainers. 

Nico was angry. What right did she have to text him that? 

But then, he just felt sad. That bottomless pit in his stomach opened up. He felt nothing but emptiness. 

His phone buzzes, this time with a text from Timo, and Nico takes a deep breath. It’s game time. No more crying over his ex-girlfriend. 

As he’s sliding on his beanie in the bathroom, he catches sight of the hair oil again. He picks it up, smells it, before throwing it in the trash. It lands on the bottom of the can with a final thud. He clicks all the lights off, makes sure he has everything he needs, grabs his key off the hook and shuts the door. 

Two hours later, everyone’s getting hyped up. He gives a mini impromptu speech, Jack slaps his back way too hard and Nico smiles, dimples and all.

He takes a deep breath before his blades touch the ice.

[fannishstuff]

Have more Biddleford AU!

This is in specific reference to my AU where Fiddleford tried meditation instead of inventing the memory gun, and consequently met and began to worship Bill.

So, I opened that piece of fanart with Fiddleford reaching out a hand to Ford, and telling him that he was welcome.

"Why," you might ask, "is he welcoming in Ford? Doesn't Ford already worship Bill?

Hehehehehe, that's where the fact that Bill is extremely manipulative comes in. More under the cut.

So, in the ficlet that I included with that picture, you'll note that Bill set himself up to be the golden magical savior that would protect Fiddleford from evil spirits and bad luck. Well, Fiddleford falls for it and he falls for it hard. Bill can be very charming and convincing when he wants to be. (...sort of. He does a lot of, like, giving people upsetting gifts and terrifying compliments and stuff. You kind of have to be a little unhinged already to fall for Bill-style charm, basically. Fortunately our pteratron-building man is.)

Fiddleford now belongs to Bill. Great. You'll remember that Ford is not actually able to build the portal himself - he needed help from Fiddleford because his math wasn't strong enough. Okay, so Bill was using Ford to build the Portal, and Ford was using Fiddleford... but now Bill can use Fiddleford directly, so he has two geniuses under his thumb. Even better: Bill had to manipulate Ford by keeping him isolated and paranoid. Fiddleford, on the other hand, we know to be charismatic and sociable. We know that he tends to seek out people who are suffering from problems similar to his and that he can get them to open up. He's also very convincing, and can convince them he has a solution to their troubles. Ivan, whose recruitment we see in Journal 3 and who is the eventual leader of the Society of the Blind Eye, is a great example of this.

So, now Bill has two patsies: a genius nerd who's convinced everyone is out to get him, and a big-hearted but very odd duck guy who wants nothing more than to help people. The second one, the charmer, has a habit of proselytizing.

And, oh, how Bill loves to be worshiped.

So, he still needs and wants Ford, but why would he settle for Ford? Bill starts occupying more and more of Fiddleford's time with the cult, and while he's at it, he himself start to breadcrumb - and eventually ghosts - Ford. It sends Ford into a panic. Ford is getting increasingly stressed and overworked, he's barely making progress, his only friend is spending almost no time with him and acting weird even when he's around, and his muse has seemingly abandoned him. Oh, and by the way: Bill hasn't told Ford that he's in contact with Fidds, and has instructed Fidds to keep the secret.

One day, Bill returns to Ford's dreams.

He's snide. He's cold. He asks for progress, and then makes like he's going to leave. Ford leaps at him, begs him to stay, asks what happened, and what he did wrong.

What are you talking about, Sixer? Aren't you doing fine without me? I thought you were some kind of genius. Well, I'm - I could never do as well alone as with your guidance, Bill! You're my muse! Oh, yeah. That. What is it? What's wrong?

Bill goes on to point out that, well, yeah, Ford was fine, but Bill was really starting to feel lead on. Bill's not just some broad you can expect to keep around forever and never bother pop the question. Like, Bill's a god, not just a """MUSE,""" and it was just kinda getting old, right? Like, you're clearly fine without me, so whatever. What? What's wrong? No, seriously, it's fine if you don't want to commit, you have commitment issues since you abandoned your brother and all. What, you want another chance? Seriously? I'm not really convinced. Oh? Okay, fine. Fine. We'll talk it out. But you are on thin ice, Sixer.

So, Ford is given some pretty strict instructions for the next couple of days, and then he's sent to meet up with Bill's other worshipers.

Ford didn't know about the other worshipers, and he's really embarrassed about this. (Never mind that they didn't exist.) He's angry, he's frustrated, but most of all he's desperate for approval.

So he goes, and he meets...

Fiddleford.

Bill's been talking to Fiddleford. Bill explained everything to Fiddleford. He explained that Ford is coming, and he's to be the co-ruler of the cult or Fiddleford's right-hand man, but that he needs to behave himself. Ford hasn't always been totally committed, Bill explained, but he's being given another chance.

But it's okay! Fiddleford believes in Ford! Fiddleford one hundred percent is vouching for him, Ford's such a swell guy, always goes the whole way in everything. Fiddleford would never doubt Ford, and together, they're going to prove to Bill that Ford's serious.

Ford... isn't convinced. Ford is having doubts. But Ford has to make sure to never, ever, ever voice those doubts, because that would be proving that he has doubts, and that he's just like Bill was afraid he would be, even though Fiddleford trusts him unconditionally like the good friend he is.

Anyway in this AU the world ends