#The Outer Realms

[ask-codeearasure]

There is no telling whether or not I can finish them quickly but right now I need something to focus on without getting overwhelmed.

-- Ouija

[cosmic-wonders-series]

Looming

[dailyadventureprompts]

Hey Dapper! As an avid follower of- and equally avid inspiration-taker from your work, first of all, thank you for the work you've put into all this. It is a treasure-trove of knowledge and inspiration that has certainly made me very happy. Can I ask for your thoughts on Tharizdun? I've been trying to form a concept of it for in my own world, but I've had little success.

Monsters Reimagined: Tharizdun, the Whisperer in Darkness

Being the default "god of madness" Tharizdun brings together two of my enduring gripes with d&d: gods that no one would actually worship and the enduring legacy of depicting people with mental illness as dangerous lunatics devoid of empathy and reason.

As he currently exists in the DM's toolbox, the whole point of including Tharizdun in your campaign is to act as the powersource behind whichever final fantasy style endboss wants to start the apocalypse before unleashing a mass of offband lovecraftian tentacles. Derivative, trite, his singular desire to inspire others to end the world is MCU levels of failing to give villains proper motivations.

We can do better

TLDR: Far In the wildest depths of the astral sea the ur-god Tharizdun is formless and thoughtless, yet dreaming. Resembling nothing so much as a cosmic nebula of oily clouds, a vast and shapeless expanse of churning primordial chaos that pulses with synapses of psychic lighting containing a consciousness older than time itself. Like a sleeper beset with sleep paralysis the chained oblivion thrashes against a reality it can only barely perceive, sending shockwaves of destruction across the cosmos.

While scholars of all worlds debate the true origins and nature of Tharizdun they can agree on two things:

It is more powerful than all the pantheons of creation, and it is terrified.

Inspiration: I wasn't originally going to do a whole monsters reimagined on Tharizdun, instead simply gesturing on what Matt Mercer has done with the deity (using the roiling chaos as a throughline for much of his Exandrian worldbuilding) and leaving it at that.

Around the same time I got this ask though I was considering doing my own take on Azathoth, the so called "blind idiot god" of the lovecraft mythos, inspiration struck and I decided to alloy the two concepts into what I think is a stronger whole. There's a lot of overlap in the two formless horrors, partly due to Tharizdun being a d&d's attempt to dip its toe into eldritch horror, without quite understanding the thematic framework involved.

Like many other things ( Minorities, the sea, decay, air conditioning) Lovecraft was terrified of objective reality. This might sound like a joke, but fundamental to his mythos is the fear that earth and the white men that lived upon it were not the centre of the universe created by a loving god. Lovecraft lived in increasingly scientific times and the science supported the idea of a universe in which humanity's existence was the meaningless product of random chance. Azathoth was this anxiety embodied in its most extreme scale: the capital G god of the universe which sat in the middle of all creation that was not only uncaring towards humanity (as many of Lovecraft's creations were) but the embodiment of ultimate unthinking chaos.

Trying to port Azathoth (and most of the other lovecrafitan pantheon) doesn't work because the conceits of the genre fundamentally clash. D&D DOES propose a moral universe, and goes out of its way to simplify morality down to such a cartoonish level that it has objective answers. In Lovecraft the horror comes from the fact that the cultists and their fucked up alien gods exist, where as the moral christian god doesn't... in d&d there's no reason for the cultists to worship the fucked up alien gods because the regular gods are both existent and quite nice.

The default d&d cosmology has multiple infinite voids of chaos including limbo, the abyss, and the far realm. I've already given my take on one of these, but I wanted an alternative for the origins of the weird that wasn't specifically focused on entropic decay.

There's a fascinating (and very depressing) history over the term hysteria and the connotations of mental crisis with feminine fragility. The word itself comes from the greek word for womb and there's something about the idea of "primal birthing chaos" that's worth playing with insofar as it makes weird rightoids Jordan Peterson deeply afraid.

Taking these thoughts as well as my earlier gripes in mind, its going to take a bit of an overhaul to make Tharizdun/Azathoth as a credible antagonistic force for a campaign. Also, this might be my own bias as an author showing through here but I don't go in for the lovecrafitan "truths too terrible to be understood". I think the universe is a fundamentally knowable place and if things exist outside our means of perceiving them then we'll just bullrush through and work out a temporary explanation on our way.

Here's my Fix/Pitch: Both Tharizdun and Azathoth are supposed to represent primordial chaos and formless madness. D&D's less than stellar history with mental health issues aside, we know that "madness" isn't evil and it isn't the antithetical opposite of order: It's flawed reason, it's an inability to comprehend, and it's deeply scary for those going through it.

THAT ended up reminding me of a famous quote from lovecraft himself; "The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown".

What if we make THAT FEAR into the god? Imagine the panicked sensation of being woken from the deepest slumber by a sudden noise, the door opening or a loud bang going off somewhere on your street..... the phantom horror of something touching you, crawling over you in the middle of the night before you have any of your senses or reason or memory to tell you that it's just your partner or your pet or your own bed sheets. That's the stuff sleep paralysis is made of and it's been haunting us humans since the dawn of time. It's also the same horror of being born, of being a non-thing and then coming into existence in fits and starts without any understanding of the world that you're now

Now imagine there's something out there in the astral sea, the plane of dreams and thoughts... powerful beyond all imagining but created without the ability to ever fully wake up. It is stuck in that first moment of existence because it may well have been the first thing to ever exist and it's been trapped in the shapeless nightmare of an infant since the dawn of time

THAT is how you make a god about the horror of the unknown. A god that is antagonistic to us because it is sacred of us, and it is scared because it has no way of knowing us, knowing the reality it inhabits beyond its own fear.

Adventure Hooks:

The greatest threat Tharizdun presents to most beings in the universe is having a nightmare about them. Through the inexplicable paths of sleep an individual's mind may find themselves connected to the entity's own... receiving terrible visions as the thinking clouds of Tharizdun's body churn in a variable brainstorm. Some aspect of this communion will be twisted into something terrible, birthed into the cosmos with the same shrieking fear and confusion that inspired its creation. Some desperate few seek out this communion, thinking in their hubris that they can give shape to Tharizdun's creation, that the terror beyond time suffers collaborators or requests. (Yes, I'm yoinking the dream-spawning ability of beholders. They were already weird enough before they started getting involved with dream stuff)

Despite being a living entity, Tharizdun is also a place, a plane unto itself streaking through the multiverse like a collossal ameoba through the primordial soup. There are landscapes within the god, whole continents that form and erode through seasons of surreality as the paroxyc titan dreams them into being. One can create portals into these landscapes, even fly a jammership across them, but the act of doing so invites an even more chaotic backlash than visiting the chained oblivion in dreams, letting its terror leak out into the waking worlds.

The name "chained oblivion" dates back to an eon when forces of celestial order attempted to keep Tharizdun contained in the hopes of preventing the escape of its creations or its contact with other minds. This period of the multiverse oft refereed to as the "Time of Quiet" sadly came to an end when the entity's bindings were shattered by a collective of villains and horrors today refereed to as the "Court of Fools" or "Troupe of the Final Void". The Troupe are a motley bunch, unable to agree on a theology but all wanting to pick at the slumbering titan like it was a scab on the skin of heaven. Some serenade Tharzidun with cacophonous music, others hurl saints and sacrifices into its body, some worship or hunt the god's offspring while others stab it with cosmic pokers, just to get a reaction. They want to wake the chained oblivion and don't care how much of the multiverse they have to burn to do it.

Like a mollusc producing pearls as a means of containing an irritating bit of grit, Tharizdun's roiling cosmic body will occasionally spit out an entire world or strange demiplanes as a means of dislodging something it could not pallet. While this has been the genesis of many realms both beautiful and terrible throughout the astral timeline, of late all these worlds worth taking have been colonized by the Troupe. Woe and pity to any mortal who calls such a world home, ruled over by tyrants who care only for destruction, unaware of a cosmos not coloured by Tharizdun's wake.

Titles: The chained oblivion, the spiraling titan, sire of stars, the Paroxsmal god, Lord of all Hysterics.

Signs: Stormclouds that look oily and churn with otherworldly light, formless nightmares and pervasive sleep paralysis, mass delusion, darkness that echoes with the god's muttering and the sound of distant flutes.

Worshippers: Ad hoc worship of Tharizdun tends to congregate around those who have received unwanted visions of the chained oblivion, as the harrowing experiance often bestows those that suffer it with an otherworldy weight to their words, to say nothing of occasional psychic powers. Many abberations likewise pay heed to the chained oblivion, either for directly giving them life or for its great and insuppressable power. Among these include Grell who refer to Tharizdun as "storm mother", The nightmarish Quori follow in the wake of the god's psychic emanations and make up a large faction of the court of fools, and the Kaorti, terrifying mage-things remade by exposure to the spiralling titan's heart who claim to be heralds for the entity.

Art

[moonletgarden]

As Within ✦ So without

Art by Crystal Lee Lucas

[d-1hater]

Need the fanfic writer to start releasing x reader: they comfort you after the US election 😭

[herearedragons]

whoops, thought about my dnd worldbuilding for too long and got emotional about it

the mortal realm is artificial. the mortal realm did not come built in with the rest of the universe. the mortal realm was a passion project by a merry band of misfits who were already powerful when they started, but only became gods halfway through, because what makes a god is the act of creation, what makes a god is the ability to say I will it so and so it shall be. the gods have crafted this world with their own hands and gave their breath and blood and sweat to make it work. Tiamat breathed fire at the core of the world for a hundred years, never stopping, while the others searched for a permanent way to keep it warm. Melora gave up her physical form and became the life essence of the planet itself because she loved it so much and her husband became the sun so that he may always keep her warm and safe, and tore out his eye and made it into the moon so it can watch the parts of the planet his light cannot reach

and then they tore themselves apart in a war that ended up with all survivors being disembodied and trapped between worlds, unable to touch their creation ever again

[thefallenangelsgang]

Okay hold up Gale takes you to "The Outer Planes" in his Act 3 romance scene but that isn't a place that is a collection of places

HOLD ON just one fucking second

WHICH OUTER PLANE ARE WE IN?

[juvenile-mudcrab]

Okay my dwemer headcanons time yippee

Under readmore bc it was longer than i expected

1. Their telepathic capabilities, or the Calling, had limited range akin to a walkie-talkie. The tips of their ears are longer and thinner than other races like a tv antenna. They would move their ears to either tune in or out from others. They could extend their telepathic range or accuracy a bit via specific piercings and/or headgear. Tonal architects used special headgear to tune out from others entirely to focus only on their work. Longer distance communication had to be achieved with radio. This is an adaptation as a result of frequently being in low-light environments and working with things that make a lot of noise, its easier and much more efficient to communicate with someone without the danger of them simply not hearing you.

2. Both men and women grew beards. In fact, there wasnt that much difference between the two sexes. Intersex dwemer werent uncommon at all. It wasnt really something that they made a big deal out of.

3. Most, if not all, dwemer are nearsighted, another result of underground living and constantly working with fine details. Pretty much everyone carried glasses with them to use whenever.

4. Every child would be taught how to construct a dwarven spider, and that spider would be with them ideally for their entire lives. They may gradually learn build more complex animunculi as they develop their skills. They usually take on a full apprenticeship to learn the intricacies of dwarven metal and some basic tonal architecture once they are teenagers, but occasionally they may not take on an apprenticeship until they are older.

5. Some dwemer names are more like titles that they take on, most often ones that end with -ac. For example, the name Dumac is a name that every major dwarven leader has, though that may not have been their original name. Every clan has their own Dumac and Kagrenac (every chief tonal architect would be called Kagrenac), as well as other names/titles that we dont know about.

6. They did not sleep on straight up stone beds they had some sort of mat to put on top of them. They just stored it away and used the stone part for other things when they werent sleeping or resting (though im sure some managed to find the actual stone comfortable enough to doze off on)

7. More often than not when talking to anyone of another race their words would be misinterpreted, so they had to choose their words carefully. This is because a lot of meaning behind their words get completely lost because nobody else is telepathic. A conversation between two dwarves may seem short and full of long silent pauses and they may even seem like they arent addressingeach other at all, but thats because a lot of the times theyre just kind of beaming their feelings and thoughts directly into each others minds. This is also why dwemer literature, notes, etc. tend to be hard to comprehend since its hard to convey things on paper without that additional communication so it has to be more verbose. The communication barrier between them and other races often felt like much more work than it was worth, which is why they were usually very isolated and held themselves in a higher regard.

8. They acted different around other people than amongst themselves which also added to the impression most people had of them. Partially because of a society-wide superiority complex and partially because of the communication barrier, they acted a lot more calculated and blunt towards others.

9. The average dwarf was shorter than an altmer and taller than everyone else

10. Mushrooms were a huge part of their cuisine

11. They could hear sounds of both higher and lower frequency than the average person can. This helps them pinpoint issues a piece of machinery or structural may be having, structural integrity of a building or excavation, or with tonal architecture in general.

12. They sometimes used their voice for fine tuning, especially tonal architects. A group of tonal architects working together could sound like a harmonized choir. They arent singing for fun (they could if they wanted to though), its just part of the job. Just how stuff works. Im not gonna act like i fully understand what tonal architecture even is.

13. For the dwarves of skyrim, chaurus were their primary source of meat but they didnt find their chitin to be very useful for much so it was often discarded or traded. The discarded chitin was then utilized by the falmer at the beginning of the War of the Crag which helped give them an advantage for a good while.

14. A lot of traps in skyrims dwemer ruins were later additions in the midst of the war of the crag, which is why many may seem oddly placed, unecessary, or nonsensical to an explorer.

[writer-room]

“Where’s Cole and Jay?” “Where’s Wu?” “Where’s Pixal?” Where’s literally everyone else. Where is the entirety of Ninjago. Where are all of their enemies.

Where’s Harumi? Is she off making another gang? What about Skylor and the other Elemental Masters?  Where’s Dareth? Don’t tell me Dareth isn’t trying to continue on the Ninja’s legacy out there. The Upply and Vania? Are they out there doing good, hoping the Ninja will come back? Vinny? Is he good?

What about Garmadon? Or Misako? Lou? Ed and Edna? Ray and Maya? Cyrus Borg? Where are they. Are they not worried about their kids.

What about Clouse? He was sent to the Underworld, he’s possibly with a Skulkin army! And Vex? Vex is there too! He’s roaming freely across the lands! Pythor is still around, probably getting beaten with brooms from old ladies. Aspheera probably broke out of prison the literal day of the Merge, so god knows where she is now.

Were they all just...laying low for a year? Not causing problems? I realize the new Merged land is huge but surely they aren’t just chilling peacefully in a cottage somewhere, right? Like, compared to these guys, Imperium is such a non-problem that I kinda want them to come back just to watch Beatrix get so outrageously offended that shes barely worth the effort while the Ninja kill the Overlord for the 8th time. I think it should be utilized more often that the Ninja aren’t stepping onto Imperium’s turf, Imperium is stepping onto the Ninja’s turf, and they’ll find this out the hard way. By the never ending SEA of allies and villains that keep popping up out of the woodwork

[scarlet--wiccan]

Considering Wanda has now become the Darkhold, I'm very interested in her rulling the Flickering Realm - Chthon's dimension. It would be an opportunity to explore its politics and civilization of the N'garai, as it is their home base. What are your thoughts?

I don't think Wanda is interested in ruling anybody, especially not in place of Chthon. I imagine she would feel very strongly that anyone who has been subjugated by him deserves freedom and autonomy. The N'Garai... kinda suck, when you actually look at their history, but they seem to have some kind of caste system and really terrible power hierarchies. I would love to see what kind of change would come from Wanda dismantling those power structures. Defeating Kierrok, the N'Garai Madbhara who terrorized Hexfinder's ancestors, would also be a great way to resolve Wanda's conflict with Nicola.

I'm definitely very interested in the internal politics and societies of demons and other "monster" races. We've seen a lot of development in this area with vampires and, to a lesser degree, werewolves. Krakoan-era X-Men titles have explored autonomy and sovereignty in Otherworld and Limbo, to varying degrees of success. I think it's very clear that these political concepts are on a lot of folks' minds, and it's being reflected in our speculative fiction-- for better, or usually, for worse.

Anyways, while I don't think Wanda should necessarily feel responsible for Chthon's legacy, I do believe that she feels empathy for other beings and races that have been impacted by him. With her powers and status as the Living Darkhold, she's uniquely suited to act as an ambassador for these communities. We have already seen this with K'lay/the Flickering Realm-- in Scarlet Witch #9, she's seen advocating to the In-Betweener for K'lay's autonomy-- and with Elderspawn such as the Bricklayer in Crypt of Shadows (2023). I suspect we might see something similar with the vampires in Blood Hunt.

I would really love for Wanda to become, like, the main go-to character for anything to do with the Elder Gods, Inner Planes (which includes hell-dimensions, mythical realms, and places like K'lay), and Elderspawn. It would put her on the same level as Doctor Strange, while still allowing her to have her own unique thing, as Stephen is generally more concerned with the Outer Realms. It would also allow witchcraft and Earthly magic to retain more of a unique flavor-- I don't love how much Wanda, Agatha, and Jericho's powers have blended into typical Marvel sorcery in the last couple years.

Something I've been wanting for a long time is to get a comprehensive, company-wide update to the lineage of the Elder Gods and the structure of the Inner and Outer Planes, sort of like what HoXPoX did for X-Men comics. Initially, that's what I thought G.O.D.S. was gonna be, and I'm kind of glad that it's not-- I don't really think Hickman's ethos would be a good fit. Instead, I feel we're starting to see it in Immortal Thor, which is wonderful, because Ewing really understands what those sort of mythology-based stories need, and he's already done a lot of esoteric worldbuidling that will cross over nicely. Thor is one of the living characters who is most closely connected to Gaea-- Wanda, as Chthon's keeper and inheritor, would be a really good compliment in exploring this world.

[stayatsam]

more on the outer worlds and comparing to BG3 since that's just the last game i played. the diff is massive...

Baldurs Gate moral choices are like. do you want to:

Save someone's life

Kill everyone

Outer Worlds moral choices:

To save yourself you must destroy one community over another by taking their electricity away.

This self-absorbed scientist who endangered his staff wants his research back so he can get a promotion; but seems to regret his actions if you press. (and he kills himself if his staff die)

DISCLAIMER: i realize the big difference between a fantasy video game about saving the world from a giant brain vs a satirical sci-fi shooter

[ask-codeearasure]

The Outer Realms - Chapter 14

<-[Previous Chapter]

[Next Chapter]->

Wish to refill Ink's Paint supply? Go to our Ask Box!

—-----

Chapter Fourteen:

Inner Reflection

—----

“But man is not made for defeat. A man can be destroyed but not defeated.” – Ernest Hemingway (The Old Man and the Sea)

—-

Stepping through the portal was an odd feeling of weightlessness that one could only describe as weightless, since no other term was readily available, but seeing that he’s inside a library that looked near endless with floating constellations made of light constructs and glittering books and strange alien-looking plants was a whole other thing. Morabito closed the portal once he saw that Carrot was out and looked around at the vastness of this strange archive.

“Welcome to Outerswap’s Royal Library.” Morabito said.

Carrot closed his eyesockets and took a last draw from his cigarette, then put it out. 

“Damn...” A bewildered Carrot followed Morabito out of the portal. He took a draw from his almost finished cigarette, but didn’t bother to keep the smoke in his mouth. When he was still in the scientific field, he had thought that the most magnificent display of knowledge was the Royal Library (not the Librarby). Some records said the knowledge at monsterkind’s fingertips rivaled that of humankind’s Library of Alexandria before it was allegedly burned to the ground. Carrot would have gone out of his way to confirm if that was true or not, but seeing as Chara is GONE gone, it’s not like breaking the barrier was immediately within the question anymore.

He didn’t know he would miss the kid this intensely, considering the handful of times they had killed his loved ones in the past, in timelines that no longer existed except in memory. 

The only way they’d ever access the Surface again back home is if another child fell into the Underground, then… he didn’t want to think about the aftermath. He hoped they’d be another case like Chara was, one that could RESET time at the slightest inconvenience, but he didn’t think monsterkind would be graced with that kind of luck yet again. Call it a hunch.

Morabito nodded, “I guess you can put it that way. Sketch sometimes brings the Royal Archiver some books, but we have someone else that does, but he’s not exactly…. Uh….”

But this library, whatever its title was, outweighed whatever expectations he developed from the one back home.

“Well… if I had to guess, this place might be why you guys know so much about everyone else, but no one knows anything about you.”

Speak of the devil.

A version of Sans was walking about with the most massive stack of books anyone could ever even fathom. He seemed to be scrutinizing every single book he passed by. Only to snap his fingers look over at Carrot and Morabito, he went over, climbed up Carrot's back and stood on his shoulders to grab a book and toss it over his shoulder, having it land perfectly on the stack of books behind them before suddenly caught in what looked to be an orbit of celestial constructs, levitated off of Carrot but still in the air. The Sans didn’t seem bothered by this predicament.

“Katagma…” hissed a voice that sounded a bit like Carrot’s but more tired, annoyed, and like he was one push away from using magic to re-sort the books in the massive pile. “That was rude.”

The voice snickered before its owner finally arrived, walking out from behind one of the many bookshelves. “Yes, but it’s not like this one has any excuses considering his own magic doesn’t really follow basic rules.”

Ah. Based on the sound of that voice, Carrot could only guess that was another him. He had experienced the same thing at the Omega Timeline for the duration of his short stay there, though it still tended to come out of left-field even with a forewarning.

He nonchalantly shrugged, taking a quick glance to the shorter skeleton that had just used him like a ladder, and that was all the confirmation he needed for the time being.

“It’s quite alright, other me. My own brother needs an extra step-up sometimes too.”

“Occultatum… you never mentioned Katagma was here.” Morabito said nervously, he looked up at Katagma who merely stretched and ignored the situation.

“You never asked.” Occult shrugged. “You know he’s always welcome here. He’s perfectly harmless right now, so don’t worry.”

“Are you sure…?” Morabito asked, “Are you absolutely certain?”

“Yes. Now don’t make me throw you out.” Occult said, crossing his arms and glaring at the mobster.

“Alright, alright.” Morabito teleported some golden apples onto one of the many grand tables next to them and used his magic to make several stacks of arrows. “There’s the supply for the guardian.”

“Thank you.” Occult smiled.

Carrot eyed the stacks, especially the apples. Of course, Dream had never mentioned his relation to those things, but Carrot could safely assume he had something to do with them considering the guardian’s soul was the shape of one. Given, his observation skills were put to the test in that regard, but he and Indigo had known Dream for several years, and Ink slipping up on some of that information here and there put some of Dream’s experiences into perspective, even though Carrot doubted anyone else noticed.

“Occultatum, was it? I assume my friend is in your care here.”

Of course he figured Morabito was something like his friend, based on his frequent complaints with doing Dream’s job in his absence, but the fact the things he made from pure positivity left a little void in Carrot’s mind. They were both functionally similar, not so much in personality whatsoever, but something just didn’t add up.

So theoretically as well, they were keeping Dream in an endless-looking library filled with books of multiversal information, not just subjects related to, what was this universe’s name…? Outerswap. He didn’t understand what that stood for entirely, but the ‘swap’ suffix implied some degree of similarity with his universe.

“Dream?” Occultatum smiled, “Yeah, he’s here. He’s in the fiction section.” he released Katagma, who teleported away with the books before he even fell a centimeter from where he was previously levitating. “And there he goes… I’ll take you to him.”

“I’ll head out. I don’t want that Nightmare creature to get anywhere near here…” Morabito said, “Have fun.” before teleporting away before they could even say goodbye.

“The fiction section is here on the ground floor, so he’s not far.” Occult stated, gesturing to Carrot to follow him. “He’s been very troublesome lately, though. Insisting that he has to leave.”

“Yeah, also don’t light your cigarettes in the library, we have a toddler running around and he’ll be more than a little upset by it.” Occultatum sighed, stopping for a moment before nodding towards the toddler in question.

“Ah, yes, that does sound just like him…” Carrot mused. He reached into his hoodie pocket for his cigarette pack, but really, thinking back on everything else that led to this moment kept him from lighting any of them just yet. He followed per Occultatum’s instruction.

“Dream is always on the run, always working, always concerned for everyone outside himself. But I bet you already knew that.”

If Carrot was feeling a bit nostalgic already, it practically doubled looking at the toddler sitting on a floating robotic rabbit head. It puffed up a little at the mere mention of the word ‘cigarettes’. The toddler was holding a children’s book, looking to be the Very Hungry Caterpillar.

“It’s a long story.” Occultatum sighed, “But to put it simply, neither. The little one’s AU was destroyed while he was asleep and I was… well… I had to take on caring for him. And the other one… He works with Klezmer, but he’s allowed here because he reminds me of my own brother and because I’m the only one who can keep him under control…. You’re very lucky.” he continued walking.

“That’s… not something you see every day.” Carrot re-pocketed the cigarettes. It had been ages since he thought back on his and his brothers’ childhoods,... not that there was much worth looking back on. Sans was older than him by a couple years, and since their only parent was not mentally available, or even pre by the time he was born, it was Sans who raised him.

He was just another child, but took up the responsibility like it was no burden on his own development at all.

Carrot forced those memories away to focus on the present.

“So. Is this one another sibling, or are you their parent?”

“Muffet sent me pictures, and videos of the one at your AU,” Occultatum said, “he acts a bit like my own, before he… passed. The temper and enthusiasm specifically–” he froze when they reached the place Dream was at.

“Heh. Thanks, but I don’t have a great history with luck.” Carrot eyed the shelves in the corners of his vision, picking up onto some extent of just how vast the knowledge stored here really was, some with titles written in languages, alphabets, and carefully configured codes he didn’t know existed.

“Technically, I have two brothers as well. That is also a long story.”

Katagma was placing two books into a triangle shape as he stood on a chair that was leaning dangerously lopsided on two other chairs that were also leaning dangerously, but somehow miraculously, he was keeping balance. The mad skeleton had made an entire castle out of books around Dream. Occultatum stared at it and only had one question.

“Katagma…”

“Yes?” Katagma replied, looking over, still keeping his balance.

“What do you have there?” Occult asked.

“A book.” the illusionist raised up Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There by Lewis Carrol.

Occultatum stayed silent. He couldn’t even tell how many books Katagma used to make the three-tiered castle of a fort. He even seemed to have brought all of his dolls to decorate the entire thing. They were all Pastel Goth dolls, with stitchings, tears showing the stuffing popping out, eyepatches, and mismatched fabric and large buttons for eyes. Majority of them were rabbits and bears.

“Yeah.” Katagma said, jumping down, causing the bottom chair to go back to its legs while the other two fell off to either side, landing perfectly. Katagma walked around to the front of the fort, using his magic to carefully move several books to create an opening for Dream, who was still reading Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carrol.

Carrot, predictably, was even more surprised at this discovery. In fact, he was tempted to light a new cigarette anyway to cope with it.

Truth be told, he didn’t quite like being surprised anymore.

“Is… is Dream under all that?”

Carrot clicked his teeth together as a sound of neutral acceptance and walked around the side of the fort to reach the new entrance. Inside, it was practically soundproof, and the only indication Dream was there, from what Carrot could sense at all, was the dim light of his previously bright golden eyelights.

The taller skeleton leaned down so his head could fit underneath the entrance, and he settled for hanging a little bit outside the doorway.

“Knock knock, could you say you are booked for all time here or what?”

He saw Dream jolt up, the little guardian’s eyelights glancing around the room before landing on him, and even in the slight degradation in lighting, Carrot could tell he was beaming from metaphorical ear-to-ear.

“Carrot!”

“Uppies.” Katagma said.

Dream jumped to his feet, the book an afterthought, and forgetting about his IV as well, hurried into Carrot’s arms, who lifted him off the floor in a perfect, Papyrus-edition embrace. Dream gave a slight wince, and Carrot quickly noticed the overstretched IV cord and levitated it closer to right that slight wrong.

“Hey, buddy.”

“I missed you…I was so worried…”

Occultatum couldn’t help but smile at the display, but a part of him wanted to frown because he knew the meeting may be cut short due to their only hope of curing the venom. He felt someone patting his chest only to see Katagma reaching up for him.

Occult held back a laugh before picking up Katagma. He knew he’d finally get through to him, but it was still taking time. The mad skeleton was still unstable after all. Katagma hugged Occultatum while the taller one held him closer.

“I tried to tell him Klezmer and the others wouldn’t get to you guys with Muffet around, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“He’s infected with the negativity venom that our Nightmare has. Unfortunately we don’t really have a typical cure for him.” Occultatum stated, “We’ve been using Morabito’s arrows and apples to keep his health up with his venom and positivity, but… we did find a probable cure, but it’s not something I’m sure either of you would agree to.”

“Figures as much. He deals with persistently difficult people.” Carrot was pleasantly impressed with how tight Dream was clinging to him, but considering the guardian’s occupational hazard, he couldn’t blame him. It must have been hell, in his position.

The fact Dream didn’t even protest to what he and Occultatum had mentioned in his presence was a bit worrying.

But something just wasn’t right here, and on a couple levels too.

Carrot guided the IV with him, rolling it as he exited the book fort. He gave Occultatum a skeptical look, just to signal he had some comments and concerns already, but considering they were supposed to be much of the same guy, he doubted his host would take that as a red flag.

“What happened to your aura, bud?” Carrot whispered to Dream, who tapped his shoulder as a nonverbal sign to put him down.

Dream’s glee evaporated to a disheartened neutral. “It’s… not here.”

“Huh. You must be really sick then.” Carrot thought Dream had been a little off in the days before he disappeared. If he were to be frank here, he could care less about the state of Dream’s magic, so long as he was happy, safe, and healthy. He’d say the same for his other friends and family too.

But Dream wasn’t too fond of his friend’s conclusion. “I wouldn’t say I’m… sick. Maybe… injured?”

“Mmm…” Carrot grunted in acknowledgement. “Compromised, then?”

“I don’t know what that word means.”

“Ehh… impaired in function or troubled in some way.”

“Oh. Then yes, that’s the word I’d use.”

He teleported the scroll and showed the translation he had created on a magic screen.

“Essentially it’s a tea that will force the drinker to face the darkest parts of themselves and their past. If they are able to make it past these things, they’ll be cured of any ailments, but there is apparently a history of those who never make it back, being sealed away in a coma for the rest of their lives.”

“You’re right, I don’t know how to feel about that.” Carrot forced his face to remain the neutral it was 98% of his waking hours, suppressing the emotional crisis that wanted so badly to build and dominate his every thought.

Dream, however, was a different story. As terrified as he was at the concept alone, he didn’t know of any other option that would put him back on his feet, figuratively speaking. 

But again, the multiverse depended on Dream’s health and activity to survive on an emotional basis. Whether Carrot liked it or not, Dream had to take the risk.

“I’ll do it.”

Carrot immediately sent a horrified look his way, as if Dream couldn’t feel his emotional reaction from being right next to him. The guardian flinched, but remained steady.

“Dream, you’re risking a lot here.”

“I know.”

“You heard what Occultatum said– you might not wake up again.”

“What other choice do I have, Papyrus? It’s either this or I stay this way for… maybe a longer time or forever. That won’t help anyone.”

Carrot glanced at Occultatum, then back to his friend, then had to lean back against the barren shelves that were previously afflicted by Katagma’s creativity and enthusiasm. This was a lot to consider, and it wasn’t even HIS choice to make.

He facepalmed, running his fingers down his temporal lobes and mandible. What a headache. In the nicest degree possible, this was grating on every nerve he physically did not have.

“Is there anything I can do to make this easier, aside from being here?” Carrot asked openly, but there was only one person who could answer that in full confidence, but he didn’t know if they were present or not.

Katagma wriggled free of Occult’s arms, dropping to the floor giddy to get the tea party ready. Occultatum shook his head, “I… have no clue. Izanagi was the one to suggest this idea – he’s um… a friend of the guy that shot Dream with a bullet that was coated with the venom. I guess they were only there for Nightmare but… Edelweiss had other ideas.”

He looked over at the table nearby and saw Katagma setting up a platter with what looked to be small tea cakes, and other snacks.

“I tried to find something that could help, but normally Izanagi’s religion and practices are… more on the… dangerous side, and they offered nothing. From what I could tell, this was from an extinct religion, and he found it to be the only option. I believe it’s our best bet for a cure.”

Katagma started setting up his dolls as though they were joining the tea party… only to slice off one of their heads with his large kitchen knife he kept on him at all times. Occultatum glared at Kata, who noticed and hid the knife behind his own back and gave a grin.

“Kata can help with that!” Katagma held up the knife the way an ecstatic kid would hold up their hand to answer a question their teacher asked, he realized what he was doing and teleported the knife away, “Edelweiss is off in our Dreamtale variant with Nightmare DeVille. He’s in big trouble! Buuuuut Occultatum has banned him from this AU.”

Carrot wasn’t going to dwell on what the heck this guy’s problem could be. He crossed his arms, drumming his fingers on his upper arm in thought.

“If I may, I would like to have a word with this Edelweiss guy at some point.”

“For good reason.” Occult hissed, “Bastard dog-eared several books. I had no choice… plus, his human soul is still active and I’d rather not have Cyber hearing anything Chara says… also he did some major damage to this AU anyways – the Queen would kill me if I let him set foot on a single meteorite, let alone any planet.”

Carrot nodded, taking each word of information and sorting it away for later use.

“The Queen in Underswap is much the same, to the point that if I don’t return in one piece, she will find a way to put our entire timeline on permanent lockdown. No one will be allowed in or have entry out.”

He held up a hand to look over the joints connecting all the bones making it together.

“I doubt that’ll happen, but she is efficient in addressing every worst-case scenario she can think of.”

Dream turned his attention away from the conversing Papyri, and led his IV with him to the very border of Katagma’s lonesome tea party. 

“Eh, I could help her with that if she needs to.” Occultatum smirked, “I actually set up a barrier to keep anyone I deem to be a threat out of here. Hence why Edelweiss, Klezmer, and DeVille can’t get in.”

He didn’t know what to guess in regards to what would happen with this special tea Izanagi suggested, but if it really was as risky as told, he had to prepare himself. If he went down, he’d technically still be alive, just physically and mentally… gone. Worst case scenario, someone would have to drag his body all around the multiverse and hope that wasn’t only a hassle, but also not a massive warning sign to the people they might interact with.

Okay, he shouldn’t think about that.

He was very proud of it, and Carrot gave a smirk of agreement. 

Katagma set up a tray of scones and cookies that he got from out of his sleeves before reaching back in and putting a small tray of butter and a small jar of jam. He then got a small bowl of sugar cubes out of the jar of jam somehow. He was really excited about the tea party.

He then finally teleported the tea pot and the cup that he got from Izanagi. They were marbled with jade, sapphire and rose quartz, and had what looked to be lotus flowers engraved onto them. It was odd to think that someone as darkly dressed as Izanagi would have such… bright tableware. But Katagma knew it was made by the spell and ritual Izanagi used. It was best that only he knew that.

“Time for a tea party!” Katagma smiled, he used his magic to drag Dream over and sit him down at the table. Dream didn’t mind, but the building anxiety started to hit once his eyes fixated on the lotus flower teacup. 

Just like that, he was certain that was the one. It was radiating magic, magic so foreign and heavy and deliberately arranged in place. One sip from that, and Dream was certain he’d fall.

And it was calling him.

Katagma carefully picked up the teapot and poured the tea into the cup. It took a moment for Occultatum and Carrot to catch on to what the hooded skeleton was doing.

“One cube or two?” he asked as he put the teapot down, he got the sugar cube tongs and looked over to Dream, “It should be a quick catnap for you, I’m sure. A trip to a wonderland of your own making, surely.”

“Katagma…” Occult hissed.

“...Bollux.” Katagma cursed.

Dream could feel the dread of his present friends building up, the apprehension and fear melted into each other. No matter how much control Carrot practiced and enforced for times like these, he was still slipping, Occultatum just as nervous, if not somehow more, and Katagma, even with such a shattered state of mind and sense, had some semblance of emotional strain.

The last thing he sensed for real was dropping the teacup.

But he had to do this, regardless of how they may feel.

Dream put two sugarcubes into the tea, watching their shape fall away to the warm liquid that consumed them molecule by molecule. He gently blew away the steam, then looked Occult in the eye.

“Hey,.. It’ll be okay. I’ll be back before you know it!”

Carrot stepped forward, maybe to stop him, but Dream wasn’t sure and couldn’t afford to dwell on it. It was way too late to stop now anyhow. He had to trust Izanagi had his best interests at heart.

Dream drank the tea down, and reality spiraled away from him.

—-----

Falling.

A sense of falling but standing still.

Dream saw familiar darkness and a sense of stable ground and the falling stopped. He looked around only to see darkness and more darkness before suddenly seeing statues. Familiar shapes of mindless villagers. He was back at Dreamtale?

He spun around only to see his likeness, solid stone just as it was several years ago.

“What the–?” He slowly backed away from the statue.

“Do you blame yourself?”

Dream looked around himself, then peeked behind the statue and the stump marking his mother’s grave. No one was there, at least not physically.

“...pardon?”

“Was this your doing, or is that what you tell yourself?”

It was painful to hear about again. Dream stared into the eyes of the statue of what was his prison for 494 years, where all he could do is sense the devastation to everything he once knew and loved. So many years of just feeling all of it. He felt like he was going insane. It was torture.

“I don’t– I’m sorry, I don’t understand–” he took a step back from the statue. He couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from and couldn’t tell what it wanted. He wanted to summon his bow to at the very least ground himself but couldn’t. It was like his powers were being blocked off somehow.

“Of course you do! It’s obvious you have a case of survivor’s guilt! This is where your brother and mother died, after all! This is where your home collapsed. Everyone who knows you, know you blame yourself for it somewhat.”

“There is no way you could have known. Nightmare didn’t want to tell you.”

“It’s not your fault, you know? You were only six.”

“I know, but– I should’ve known what was causing him so much pain...” He really wished he knew something. Been more aware. Should’ve seen the pain in Nightmare’s eyelights. Listened more carefully to how Nightmare spoke, how the villagers talked to him. Something—

“I want him to know how sorry I am.” Dream mumbled as he looked away from the statue. If only he could talk to his brother. He wanted his brother back, to hug him and hold him and just be there.

“He already knows.”

The lookalike gave Dream a quick hug. Even here, Izanagi radiated warmth and kindness. He really did feel like a big brother, though they’ve only known each other briefly. Izanagi rubbed Dream’s cheek as he continued speaking.

Dream felt tears collecting, and brought the rim of his shirt up to wipe them away before they could drop. But as he was doing that, he heard footsteps, and looked up to see Izanagi reveal himself from behind the statue. The guardian’s breath hitched, but gave a little wave to the apparition.

Izanagi’s lookalike gave a gentle smile. The same one he saw each time they saw each other briefly. It was always so polite and welcoming.

“Hello, Dream-sama.” Izanagi gave a small bow.

“H-hi…” Dream stammered, wiping away a stray tear falling from his eyesocket. Stars, he felt like a child.

“It’s okay. You know that he was only trying to protect you. It’s what us older brothers do.” Izanagi said simply.

“But you were hurt, too. They used you.”

“I- I don’t think they did?” Dream denied, “They didn’t–”

“If they had to rely on a child for everything, yes they did. You were not allowed personal freedom like the other children were. Did you play games with other children? Did you go to school? Did you have the freedom to even interact with other children, Dream-sama? Could you even call what you had a childhood?”  Izanagi stared at Dream solemnly. Dream couldn’t look him in the eyes when he answered.

“N-no… I suppose not…” Now that he thought about it, how many times did they really ask him? How many times was it a ‘Dream, I need an apple.’ Not really asking but… telling.

He must’ve been so deep in thought that Izanagi grabbed Dream’s wrist and pulled Dream in for a deeper hug as if knowing he needed it. The guardian leaned his head into Izanagi’s coat, the thick fur and detailed beads and embroidery grounding him from falling too far, but it was in no way a safety net.

“But they needed me. I was the only one who could heal them.” Dream said.

“But that is not the only thing you did, is it? You built their homes as well. You managed all the heavy work and were demanded around all day. You barely had time of your own.”

Izanagi gently rubbed circles into Dream’s back, hugging him as gently as possible like Dream was so frail that he’d break at the slightest sign of pressure.

“I could stay at the tree if I didn’t want to go.” Dream shook his head.

“Dream-sama… you were nothing more than a tool to them. A slave for them to drag around. A prisoner to their demands. Only one didn’t do that and he was the exception, not the rule.” Izanagi stated, almost coldly.

Neil… Dream never found out what happened to him, whether he survived Nightmare’s rampage or not. Not wanting to look at the ruin that surrounded them, Dream hid his face in Izanagi’s coat completely to silence a sob, his fingers gripping the fabric and fur like a lifeline.

He felt a heavy hand caress the back of his skull, and it shifted from stiff bone to warm flesh and fluff. Dream heard a heartbeat beneath his head, and the coat he had clung to was gone, replaced with simple clothing. No… No it couldn’t be…

“‘S okay, kid. No one could’ve predicted what would happen.”

That voice….

The voice was gruffer, grumpier, but stable. Dream looked up, and another sob was ripped from him.

“Neil…?”

“Hey. Long time no see, kiddo. Still have a good head on your shoulders.” Neil gave a small chuckle and a shrug. His tired eyes were still warm as ever.

Dream hurried to wipe away his tears again, but Neil grabbed his hand and held it away from his face. The one-armed cat monster sighed, let Dream’s hand go, and his only hand returned to pat his head like he used to.

“You should keep cryin’, It’s good for you.”

“I’m sorry, I never– I n-never wanted it to end l-like this.” Dream shook his head, he had so much to say but couldn’t get it all out.

“I don’t think anybody did, except for that parasite using your brother’s body. But it’ll be alright. You got more power than ya know in that little body of yours.” Niel sighed and his ears folded back, tail flicking, showing his contempt for the unnamed man.

Dream nodded, letting golden tears fall as Neil lowered them both to the ground and rubbed his back. 

“...it’s not enough.” Dream mumbled, looking away.

“I was talkin’ about effort, Dream. It’ll pay off someday. You just gotta keep goin’.” Niel forced Dream to look back at him. “You know the meanin’ of effort. None of the villagers did, but you do. And you’ve got the effort to push through all of this.”

“Don’t worry about what you can’t do. You’ve done so much already, all you could do, really.” Neil stated, “You need to keep goin’ forward.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so s-sorry–” Dream couldn’t even finish speaking, holding onto Niel’s paw, it was still soft and rough at the same time. The way he remembered it was back when the cat was alive.

“Shhh… I did my part too. I distracted Nightmare so you could run free again. That’s all that matters to me. And there was nothing you could have done to convince me not to, because you living was worth it all.” The cat smiled. He really was the closest thing to a father he had. Niel pulled Dream a bit closer and hugged him, resting his chin on Dream’s temple, letting the guardian lean into him.

He, too, wished he could have done more, more for Dream, and Nightmare.

His vision began to blur over, and Dream felt his body beginning to shake with every breath he dragged in in an attempt to stabilize himself. He felt Neil’s hand lift from his back, then hold his chin, tilting his head up to look him in the eye.

“There is nothing you could have done to change all… this. You did all you could.” Niel said softly, “You did your best, and that’s all anyone could’ve asked for.”

The cat gestured to their surroundings with a jerk of his head. His face, which was usually stone and cold, loosened up. There was nothing but affection in Neil’s eyes, even though they were clouded over with sadness.

“Just keep going. You have friends that support you now, and they will do a damn better job than I ever could. You have a good heart, Dream. Don’t ever lose it.”

Dream sat up on his knees, using his hood to clean his face free of blur and tears again. But when he brought it down, Blueberror was sitting where Neil was not a second ago. The glitch gave a nervous laugh and scratched the back of his head.

“Hi, friend! It’s been too long!”

Just like that, Dream felt himself falling apart all over again, his mask flew far out of the bounds of his control, and he felt Blue pick him back up, trapping him in a tight hug. Dream hugged him back tighter, his sobs falling onto his black armor.

He could even feel his glitches brush against his cheek.

For so long, he was wondering where Blue had gone, why he left without notice or reason. The day he disappeared was a breaking point, and not just for himself. Papyrus was a wreck, and only Indigo could pick up some of the pieces. But himself and Ink? There was no other way they could cope but avoid the subject, at least verbally.

Dream remembered searching the multiverse for his friend alongside managing his duties. Not even Core!Frisk could tell him where Blue had gone. It was like something had blocked them all, and all they could do was wait at the firewall, praying it would come down one day.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I- I couldn’t really think–” Before Blue could even finish what he was saying, Dream cut him off.

“I-it’s okay, B-Blue…”

“No. No, it’s not. I worry I broke your trust kinda like Ink did. And unlike him, I don’t think I’ll get it back.” Blue looked away for a second only for Dream to grab his face and make him look back at him, ignoring the golden tears still sliding down his cheeks.

“Th-that’s not true.” Dream insisted.

“I can’t believe that, Dream. I’m sorry. Your trust is difficult to truly earn, but that’s okay, because of everything you’ve had to live through… that is something none of us can understand all the way.” Blue grabbed one of Dream’s hands as he shook his head before deepening the hug, burying his face in Dream’s shoulder.

Dream tried to look away, but Blue didn’t let him. Blueberror let go of one of Dream’s shoulders, gently holding one of Dream’s cheeks and forcing him to look at him. “You n-need to stop denying yourself having s-support. You know this. It doesn’t just hurt you, it hurts us too. Let yourself love, Dream, and let us love you.”

Dream felt Blueberror squeeze him, then nuzzle his cheek against his own. Then his grip loosened, and Blue held him at arm’s length with both hands on his shoulders.

“But I really do worry about you. Every day, I think about you guys, and I go to sleep hoping you’ll be alright. I hope you learned that it’s okay to ask for help, maybe just a little more than you think you should. Not everyone can do everything alone, not even you.”

The glitch brushed away golden tears with his thumb, and it took a second for Dream to notice he was crying too.

“Cause you got p-people out there who r-really care about y-you, an-and l-losing you w-woul-ld b-be d-devastating. We love you s-so, so much, Dream, a-a-an-and your aura has nothing to do with that! I swear to you!” Blue wiped away his own purple tears. Trying to stabilize himself.

But the guardian shook his head. “But what if you get hurt? What if Nightmare hunts you down? I’ll never forgive myself for that!”

“You know, you couldn’t always be there, but even then, you always were the best little brother anyone could ask for.”

Dream himself didn’t want to see them suffer, he felt too much suffering over those long years in that statue, that prison. And he couldn’t imagine the torture Blue had gone through when Error abandoned him in the Anti-Void, with no communication access to anyone or anything until he came back.

Both him and Blueberror had been trapped in circumstances against their will.

“We are tougher than we look, Dream. I know you’re well aware, but our support doesn’t have to always be on the battlefield. And— really, Ink is your best bet for most of that. Your emotional burdens, I mean, since you’re conflicted on talking to anyone else. Speaking of, I might need to go get him soon–-”

Before Dream could think it through, he grabbed Blue by the hem of his chestplate before Blue himself could even think of leaving.

“Please don’t go… I don’t know when I’ll actually see you again, since this is… all in my head, r-right?”

Blueberror nodded slowly, then reached for Dream again and pulled him back into the tightest hug he could possibly give. Dream practically melted into it, holding Blue there for as long as he could before something changed again. The smell of apples came to fruition.

Dream froze, “N-Night?”

Hesitatingly, Dream pulled away, and looked to his right, only to see his older brother looking at him with a soft smile, his purple eyelights filled with hope and admiration. He looked exactly the way he did before Dream left that morning, before the incident, a picture forever preserved in time.

“Whatever chance you got, you were always there for me. You were the one thing keeping me going for as long as I did– and I never got to thank you for it. So… Thank you, Dream. You will never know how much you meant to me.”

Nightmare breathed in shakily, and it became evident he was crying too.

Nightmare gave Blueberror a knowing look, and Blueberror obliged to the silent request, letting go of Dream and scooting back so Nightmare could loop his arms around his neck and hold him close. Something about his apparition differed greatly from the others, but Dream could care less as he hugged him back.

He wished so badly he was here, that he never lost him in the first place.

“I’m so sorry I left you, and so early too. No one deserved what happened. An-and even if you never see me again, please… please know I’m watching, and I’m cheering you on.” He laughed awkwardly, and Dream tightened the hug, savoring their moment together.

“Are we… still brothers?”

But Dream didn’t feel agony this time. A strange form of relief replaced it, and with it, a stronger resolve. Still, he hung onto his missing friend, breathing through to coexisting grief that remained, nothing else filled the silence but Blue’s occasional dropping tear and his beating soul.

“We always will be. Nothing would ever change that fact.” Nightmare breathed in and patted Dream’s back. “Listen. I know I’m dead and all, but know you carry a piece of me with you wherever I go. The other guy can never take that away from you.”

He had to struggle against Dream’s grip for Dream to get the message to loosen it, and when he did, Nightmare leaned back to face him properly, his face turned serious. “I have to go now, but… I want you to understand my death is not on you. You understand me, brother?”

Dream sniffled, but nodded. Nightmare got up to leave, wiping off the remnants of his own tears. He nodded to Blueberror, who reestablished his comforting grip on Dream.

“I want you to live for the both of us, and happily too. And who knows? Maybe we’ll get a miracle! After all, you made it here, anything could happen!”

He watched as Nightmare’s form dissipated, leaving behind the dark abyss of dying fauna the creature in his wake had left behind. 

Blue stared at Dream, before nodding, “Okay.”

The guardian just let Blueberror hold him, recollecting his thoughts. He didn’t want to leave. He leaned against Blue, grabbing onto one of his hands and fiddling with the seam of his gloves. “I miss you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Blue nodded.

“It’s okay.” Dream smiled sadly.

“Dream–”

“I mean it, Blue! It’s okay.” He held Blue’s hand tightly. Reassuringly.

Dream didn’t mind the awkward silence that followed, content with sitting there. He felt Blue straighten out his hood, made from the sun cape he used to wear in his younger years.

“Do you… remember the days where we and Ink would cuddle? We’d just be there for each other, no catch.” Blue smiled. His voice sounded so nostalgic.

“Yeah…” Dream smiled as he thought back to how often they’d find themselves doing it.

“I wish we could do that again.” Blue leaned back a little resting on his free arm.

“Mmhm….” Dream nodded. He nodded and closed his eyes. Nothing else mattered. Just for right here, right now.

“Yeeeeaahhhhh, those were the good old days!”

Both Dream and Blue jumped, both scrambling to their feet to find the source of that high-pitched voice burned into their memories.

All they had to do was turn around. Not in the direction of the stone statue, which had disappeared completely, but where the stump of the long-passed Tree of Feelings once stood. It had bloomed once again, stretching to heights beyond what Dream remembered, and Ink hung himself upside-down from the lowest branch that could safely carry his weight. 

The artist smiled and waved to them with enthusiasm.

“Damn, I haven’t seen either of you in forever! How’s that reunion going? I know this ain’t real, but it’s the thought that counts! Ya get me?”

Ink jumped down, landing perfectly on his feet. Blue and Dream tackled him before he could get another word in, bursting out into laughter when it clicked for him there was no escape for him immediately, even if he wanted such a route. He was stuck between two friends with super-strength, and they weren’t letting him go anytime soon.

Between Blue’s apologies and Dream achieving the tightest hold on him by far, Ink looped both his arms around them. “Heheh… the gang’s back together! … kinda.”

Blue flicked him on the forehead, giving Ink the message to quiet down, and he stuck to that for about forty-five seconds before Dream felt Ink tap on his shoulder. The guardian looked up at him, his soul pounding in his chest.

“Good!” Ink smiled.

“I’m sorry for everything, by the way. The uh… not talking, then leading you and the others to Klezmer and getting Chara killed and all… that.” Ink was struggling with finding his words on how to properly apologize.

“It’s okay, I should’ve—” “ADEDEDEBEPBEPBAP! None of that! Technically none of us knew what was coming, but I led us on without taking any precautions. Therefore, Chara’s death is on me. JUST ME. Got it?” Ink covered Dream’s mouth for a second to reinforce how serious he was about taking the blame for the incident. “Got it?”

Dream sighed, but had to accept that admission. “Got it.”

He lowered his head to rest on top of Ink’s chest again, Blueberror having made himself snug at the artist’s side. The glitch was listening just like he was, but Dream could recognize that slight grimace of disappointment and the pain of loss any day. 

That second chance was earned, which meant the events leading up to Chara’s murder were heartbreaking, and Dream didn’t doubt Ink was aware of that.

Ink avoided Blue’s gaze for that same reason, his eyelights blinking between red and purple, then blue and cyan. He regretted so much, but could barely ever express that want to right those wrongs, to change.

Dream remembered the process of them growing back together, mending their friendship inch by inch as Ink began to visit him regularly, even providing support where he would otherwise have none.

Then, they started talking. Ink had adopted new beliefs, a new frame of genuinely caring for the inhabitants of the universes he helped create, and in turn, he had developed new habits, new behaviors, new affections Dream never saw Ink bother to go through with when they had previously been acquainted. 

“I should have communicated with you, Dream. I’m sorry that I avoided you, then didn’t tell you anything. But what I really hope for is the REAL Ink making it up to you and everyone else he screwed over. So… don’t let that go when he shows up, yeah? He’s been busy, but he’s looking for you too.”

Of course he was. Dream nodded. Blueberror yawned, and Dream held back his own. Ink yawned next. 

“You gotta give yourself more credit for all you do, Dream. None of us deserve you, especially not the real me.” Ink frowned, as he stared up at the dark sky.

Dream sent him a look that clearly expressed how much he disagreed with that sentiment. “I don’t think this should be measured in who deserves what, Ink. I’ll definitely talk to you when I see you again, but it is not my job to point fingers.”

“Alright… sorry, man.”

“It’s okay.” Dream sighed.

Blue’s quiet snores reached them, and Ink patted his head.

“Whaddaya know, I guess we did get to cuddle like the good old days today…”

The blackness of sleep finally welcomed him with open arms.

Dream giggled, but the effect was muffled by his fatigue. One of Ink’s hands caressed his cheek, and he relaxed into it, his eyes slowly closing.

“I know it’s hard for you to do this, Dream. Just hang on until I get there, okay?”

Here and there, he just heard running accompanied by the shrieks and giggles of children. For just a moment, he saw a loose apparition of himself in front of him.

The child turned around to face him, looking him up and down, then without hesitation, ran up to hug him around the waist. Dream reached down, loosening the grip of his younger self as he did to get to his level, and hugged him tight.

Hang in there. Just hang in there, he wanted to say, but no voice of his found itself.

“Dream!” he heard Nightmare’s voice call out. The younger him looked up and smiled without weight, no mask needed.

“Coming!”

Younger Dream detached himself from the hug and backed up, looking at his older self with nothing short of blissful acceptance.

“Thank you!”

Then he left, running off to reunite with his brother.

[cosmic-wonders-series]

Creatures from Beyond The Planes…

[headphonemouse]

Ch. 427

Shin Yoosung pulling out premature grey hair on my head tackled the boy immediately.

I can't believe I forgot about kdj's premature grey hairs. Post epilogue dokjoong bald4bald

[blackfilmmakers]

How can you judge that when Daima's opening hasn't been released yet? You really are ridiculous and ignorant to boot. Last i checked, Goku never visited the Demon Realm in GT. GT also did not have Toriyama's involvement. Shut your hating ass up, fool!

Anyways would it make you feel better if I called it GT 2 x Dragon Quest x Sand Land crossover special?

[artsystudiofinds]

Made with a vision to bring the self awareness, presenting hand carved alien moldavite 14k solid gold necklace 👽 100% authentic Czech moldavite is used for this purpose 👽 I use selective moldavite from my collection of moldavites and make it into jewelry for that one special being who resonate with its energies 👽 Enjoy this creation made with love for self gifting or for special gifting 👽