#but I really plan on writing again

[werewolfsmile]

Yeehaw, have another product my hyperfixation!!

[watch it on youtube]

This was so much fun to make despite being a bit tedious at times. I hope you all get some enjoyment out of it like I did!

[14dayswithyou]

Hi, Howdy! Hey! I really love your novel!! I got a little confused by the 4 day, may maybe you help me please? who is it? why we got the bad end staying the night in Ren’s apartment and he disappear of the home screen? I can’t understand “unset memory” game, sorry if I wrote smth wrong or smth sounds rude, I swear that I didn’t mean it if happened, I’m really a fan of the novel, I’ve been playing the game since day 1 or 2 I guess, probably day 1, english isn’t my first language, but I tried lol

⌞♥⌝ I hope you don't mind me answering these as bullet points!! ^^

"It" will be revealed later in the game! So I won't reveal too much right now.

You can only get the Dead End in Day 4 by staying at Ren's apartment — the rest of your choices before that don't matter. I'd also pay closer attention to the black smoke and Ren's reaction towards it!

Ren disappears from the home screen because he promised to help the player out (and stop them from getting the Dead End again). Try replaying the game again from the beginning for a surprise!

"Unsent Memories" was another visual novel (initially being written by @10chimes / @unsentmemory, though the project has since been dropped and handed back to me /pos) and is set in the same universe as 14 Days With You. Its storyline and characters are completely separate from 14DWY, so you don't have to worry about them while playing 14DWY.

[httpiastri]

lando norris x reader, 18+

"i'm bored."

lando's head shoots up from below you. your head is tilted to the side, gazing out the window as if you can't be bothered to care about the man between your legs; as if anything, even the gray skies outside, is more interesting than this.

but you're just pretending, of course.

there's no doubt in the way that your body always trembles under his touch, or the way that your cheeks grow hot when he just looks at you. he may be slow and careful, taking his time with his touches instead of rushing into things, but he's never been boring to you before, and he sure isn't now.

"what?" lando asks, frowning. he's a bit confused – after all, you were the one who called him up half an hour ago, begging him to come over – but he's not completely sure he believes you. he knows the effect he has on you. "you're talking nonsense."

you shake your head slightly. "no, this is boring..." you mutter, letting out an exaggerated sigh. his kisses still linger where he left them on the inside of your thighs just moments ago, and you already regret making him halt his actions.

"god, you're so bratty."

your eyes dart back at him. there's a teasing grin on his lips, and his fingers on your thighs suddenly make themselves known again. one thumb draws circles into your skin, as the other hand moves up to swipe just along the edge of your slit. "i- i'm not." the instability of your voice is clear to lando, and it's easy for him to take notice of how your legs have tensed up in just a moment. "i just... want you to..."

your eyes flutter closed when one of his fingers makes contact with your clit. "hm? what do you want me to do to you?" he increases the pressure, casually circling your bud as your hips buck up slightly. "for you to feel less bored?"

"you- you've said that-" a whine escapes from your mouth, not able to form your sentences when he's teasing you like this. he notices and slows down his movements to let you speak. "you said that you like to make my eyes roll," your eyes find his the moment you open your eyelids. "do it."

he cocks an eyebrow at you. "alright, then." his lips trace down from your stomach to right above your core, kisses still feathery yet carrying more purpose than before. "your wish is my command."

[actual-changeling]

i crave the emotional catharsis that would come with crowley taking care of his plans, in so much pain but swallowing it down and pretending it's not real, finally having the mental breakdown he deserves.

he's taking care of his plants, a detached look on his face, misting them and making sure they're all healthy and have enough space to grow. after he returned, he stopped talking to them for the most part. they welcomed him back, they had missed him—shax is not the nicest or most interesting company to keep—and now they're worried.

crowley sleeps, paces, mists his plants, gets drunk, and sleeps some more. everything to stop feeling. until he sees a leaf spot on one of them. a tiny imperfection, barely worth a shout, and yet.

a tremor works it way through him, his knees always giving out, and he presses one palm against the wall to keep himself upright. wave after wave of shame, bright and stabbing in the middle of his chest, reminds him why he left.

not good enough.

crowley had tried, someone knows he tried. it's hard to regain a soul, harder yet to shape it into something worth loving, someone worth living for, but he had tried.

his fingers curl around the pot and before he can stop himself he flings it across the room, listening to it shatter. can't even do that right, can he? can't raise fucking plans, can't keep his STUPID mouth shut, can't make him stay because who would want to be stuck with him forever? no one, that's who, and after six thousand years, aziraphale had seemingly reached his blessed limit and taken the first chance to leave.

another plant follows with a scream, dirt and broken stems covering the floor and staining the walls, and then another and another and another until he can fall to his knees amidst the ruins of his life.

clay shards are cutting his palms open as he doubles over, sobs wrecking through him like thunder, and his tears carve clean paths down his dirty hands.

"i tried," he whispers, voice hoarse from yelling, "i'm sorry, i tried."

crowley's wings unfurl with an almost silent gust of air, blacking out the sunlight streaming in. he drags himself to the nearest corner before wrapping his arms and wings around himself, and curling up as tightly as possible.

"i tried," he keeps breathing into feathers and fabric, "i tried, i tried, i tried."

over and over until his voice fails him and then some more. it is almost a lullaby, the words taking whatever is left of his heart and gently rocking it back and forth. crowley falls asleep like that, exhausted and broken and lonely. just as sleep pulls him under, he stops his repetition, his mouth shaping phrase after phrase.

for the very first time since his fall, crowley closes his eyes and prays.

[s0fter-sin]

one of my favourite aspects of supernatural that you very rarely see in paranormal shows is that sam and dean are already versed in the world they live in. there’s no sudden discovery of ghosts and demons and now they have to learn about them along with the audience; they are born into it and already know all about it. it allows the audience to follow their personal story instead of also trying to figure out this new world and its rules

the first season is full of knowledge we never see them learn; “w*ndigoes are in the minnesota woods or- or northern michigan. i’ve never even heard of one this far west.” […] “great. well then this [his gun] is useless.” (1x02), “you don’t break a curse. you get the hell out of its way.” (1x08), d: “it’s a god. a pagan god, anyway.” […] “the annual cycle of its killings? and the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. like some kind of fertility right.” […] s: “the last meal. given to sacrificial victims. d: “yeah, i’m thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan god.” (1x11)

almost every episode in the first season is a monster they’ve faced before that they then explain to the audience in a way that should feel patronising; like it’s the same speech given over and over again but instead, the audience almost feels included in the knowledge. it’s stated with such an innate confidence and comfort in said knowledge that it feels like we already knew it too; “spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. if they want inside, they just go through the walls.” […] “the claws, the speed that it moves; could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog.” (1x02), “it's biblical numerology. you know noah's ark, it rained for forty days. the number means death.” (1x04), “no no no, not the reaper, a reaper. there's reaper lore in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names.” […] “you said it yourself that the clock stopped, right? reapers stop time. and you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why i could see it and you couldn't.” (1x12)

they already know and, at least in the first season, already have what they need to kill whatever they’re hunting; already know to salt and burn bones for spirits, fire for a w*ndigo, exorcisms for demons, a silver bullet to the heart for shapeshifters. there’s only three times in the entire first season that they run into something new to them; 1x14 when sam gets his first vision that leads him to another psychic, 1x16 when dean calls caleb for help on the sigil he put together and he tells him about daevas, and 1x20 when they find out vampires are real- and they only don’t know that bc john thought they were hunted to extinction and not worth mentioning

(there’s also technically two half instances if you count one of them knowing something the other doesn’t - sam figuring out the tulpa in 1x17 and dean already knowing about the shtriga in 1x18 - but those still rely on sam and dean having prior knowledge)

even when they’re uncertain about facing something, it’s not bc they don’t know what it is; it’s precisely bc they know what it is and acknowledge that it’ll be a difficult hunt (“i don't know, man. this isn't our normal gig. i mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. this is big. and i wish dad was here.” 1x04)

so much of the tension in paranormal shows typically comes from the main character(s) not knowing what is happening to them/the people around them and having to find out how to resolve it. supernatural is unique in that it operates more like a police procedural. the tension comes from solving the clues and identifying patterns to figure out who (what) the killer is and intercepting before they can take another victim

it’s such a different tone to go for when compared to other shows that came both before, during, and after its run. it sets sam and dean on even footing with each other since they both have the same knowledge going in, and it puts them in a place of authority usually reserved for an outside character

the shows i compare spn to most is charmed, buffy and teen wolf; every main character in those shows are brought into the paranormal world knowing nothing, putting them on the same level as the audience, and they have their mc interact with others already knowledgeable about that world in order to overcome their problem/monster of the week. the audience organically learns about this new world as the characters learn about it. it’s a sound writing strategy that prevents “as we already know”-style exposition but something that complicates it is if your world building isn’t unique or intriguing enough, this slow introduction can become boring

we’ve seen shows like these before; sitting through the same tropes of characters learning to use their powers, struggling with no longer feeling normal/relating to the regular world around them, and not knowing how much they can trust the people already involved in this new world gets repetitive. all three shows eventually reach the same level of comfort with their new world that spn starts with but if the characters aren’t enough to draw you in, you can end up dropping it before they reach that point (and often, before the overarching plot can really kick in and evolve the show beyond the villain of the week format)

it’s the superhero origin movie in tv format; dragged out and overplayed. dropping the audience into an established world of course comes with its own problems but you also have the benefit of pre-existing established character dynamics that let the audience slot in like they’ve always been there instead of just getting to know all the characters while the characters also get to know each other

sam and dean already knowing about the supernatural lets the audience immediately get to the core of the story; the conflict between sam and dean, the search for their father, and the mystery of what killed their mother

[zgvlt]

hi 😁

[fearandhatred]

i was thinking about this line from my fic:

But the fall had hurt, too. Because the wind had cut into his useless wings like knives, his skin and grace peeling away under the friction, and he had been looking right up at the multicoloured and unreachable expanse of sky just to see it fade from his eyes into dull greys.

and i came up with this. i hope the vision came through

[buwheal]

Got anything fun on your to-do list? (Spamton buddy)

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

nearly, nearly, nearly: dovquez [t]

@dovquezdecember + near

“Dovi!” Marc says clumsily, flashes him a grin—sun-bright, shameless.

Andrea is thinking. He was nearly a champion this season. Nearly, nearly, nearly. But it wasn’t so close at the end, -37 points, and the entire ocean between Marc making a miraculous save and him screaming on the gravel trap.

His fingers spasm around his empty glass, just once. Andrea is acutely aware of the camera glares, of way, way, way too many people around. Too soon to get another one, and the one after that. The frizz of alcohol is heavy in his stomach, leaden.

Marc makes a noise—impossible to make sense of. Andrea blinks, remembers he should answer him any time now. His tongue is stuck on the roof of his mouth, but it isn’t Marc’s fault that everything had to go right today and nothing did.

He drops whatever he was planning on saying. Marc brandishes his own champagne flute, takes Andrea’s empty one for himself. It’s full—lukewarm prosecco, sure, but it’s full.

Andrea—against his own will, let it be said—laughs.

Marc’s eyes go round, shiny. His hand comes down to cling to the sleeve of his suit, where it falls half an inch too long. And he sways towards him, chest brushing against the side of his arm. Andrea cups the small of his back, raises his eyebrows.

“The drinks aren’t good enough for you to be drunk already.” He prods—harmlessly, his voice pitched low.

He could be drunk on everything else, though. His podium, his sixth championship in—God—eight years, Honda delirious over their golden boy.

Marc bats his lashes coyly, pretends to think. “It was a good dinner, don’t be mean.”

It was, is the thing. He stopped counting after the fourth course, the tenth FIM/Dorna exec with a polished smile that congratulated him on a clean, sportsmanlike dispute—probably having the time of their times that it didn’t end in death threats and a sports court.

Andrea snorts. “Drinks are still shit.”

For all that Marc says don’t be mean, the corners of his lips are trying to quirk up again. Just as cruel.

And when he catches Andrea looking, Marc ducks his head away. Tries to hide it.

He’s so—he’s a sharp, shameless little thing. Hurts to cradle him close, cuts his palms to gory ribbons. Andrea clings, anyway. The party has dulled to a trickle of I wish it was me that barely registers. He fancies he can spot the place where Marc kissed the tower on his mouth, his teeth—like Raphael’s blessing.

His stomach rolls with champagne, too little food he wasn’t feeling up for. Sizzles.

“It was a good season, too.” Marc speaks abruptly but quietly. The cut of his jaw turned bullish, stubborn.

He can feel the tension pressed on his side. It’s not even like gearing up for a risky overtake—Marc throws himself into those with wild joy, again and again and again. This is measured, strained. Marc’s spine grows rigid where he’s touching.

Andrea hums. “Are you going to say you’re sorry?”

Marc’s expression slackens, softens with confusion. “What?”

“You look like you might.”

“For winning?” Andrea nods, stares at him expectantly—wills his face to stay flat and unamused and is only mostly sure he succeeds. Marc purses his mouth, lets him catch a hint of teeth and the downturned curve of his lips. “No way.”

And listen—

Andrea shakes his head. He feels that gold-tinted lightness filling the insides of his chest. Maybe he’s drunk, four glasses catching up like outbreaking himself into a highside, but it’s easier now than it was a couple minutes ago, when the champagne tasted stolen, tasted like trackside dust and a mocking round of applause in his garage.

“You are horrible.”

He watches it happen in real time, how Marc pulls a face, how his eyes flutter to look at him and then away.

People call him brutish, impulsive—it’s not true. Just because he was born without a sense of self-preservation doesn’t mean he doesn’t think. Marc is a shrewd thing. Calculating. He wonders what he was trying to find with that look.

But he’s probably a little drunk himself too, or Andrea wouldn’t have caught that minute flinch in his expression. Marc is too opaque for acting mistakes these days.

It is the thing about Marc. Andrea doesn’t know if he’s bracing for a slap or it never coming despite how much he wants it to.

“I don’t think you mean that,” he says—petulantly, imperiously.

Very, very deliberately.

Andrea smiles, squeezes his back. “I do, I do!”

“No, you don’t.”

He does. But Marc is horrible like a tricky corner, or a bull charging in a bullfight. Predictable only in how it scares you shitless no matter how many times you try it. Horrible in that clammy fear you’re going to be swept along. Fucking fantastic when you conquer it—if you do.

It’s there anyway, of course, red-hot, that frustration—the shame in the gravel, in the garage. But Andrea tries to get angry only about things he can control.

Marc winning isn’t personal, is it.

He takes a breath, lets that awkward silence wash over him, over them, releasing that aimless frustration knot by knot. Marc fidgets against him, rehearsing taking a small step to the side, away from him. Andrea considers for a moment, half of one—doesn’t let go of his grip on him, on the fabric of the back of Marc’s suit.

There are cameras, still. Too many people. It’s none of their business—

This is, Andrea reasons, nothing worth hiding.

“It was a good season,” he says, gently—either an agreement or a concession.

Marc relaxes a fraction, does his best to tuck himself against him no matter that he’s a couple of centimeters taller. Finally, finally, he looks at Andrea straight on, with his usual hungry shamelessness, eyes huge and liquid on his face.

“You looked like you were having fun.”

“Here and there,” Andrea shrugs, isn’t even a bit surprised when he feels Marc’s fingers slip under his shirt to hold the jut of his wrist. “I had this pest bothering me.”

He is surprised at how hot those tiny points of pressure feel. His pulse drums against the thin skin of his wrist.

Marc bristles, indignant. “You ambushed me this whole year!”

Here and there, when he could, when he managed to make it work. In Austria, Japan. Andrea made himself steady as a metronome, harmless until he wasn’t—he wasn’t going to outcrazy Marc anyway, might as well try something unorthodox.

“You weren’t very angry about that from what I remember,” Andrea replies mildly. Mock-dry.

Marc nudges him with his shoulder, tries to scowl but melts into a loud, honking chuckle. It’s evidently, incredibly disarming. “Fuck off, I was! You always knew what I was going to try next. I thought you were going to drive me crazy.”

“Not even you can win them all.”

Marc grins—shiv-quick, self-satisfied. He looks like he’s winning this one, whatever this one is. “I can try.”

Andrea is thinking—it isn’t self-pity this time. Feels about just as dangerous. Marc’s touch is insistent, makes him fidgety all the way to the bone. He isn’t even the slightest bit innocent himself either—hand splayed on Marc’s back, the tip of his little finger reaching suspiciously lower than it was a moment ago.

He swallows. Marc tracks the jerky move of his throat, stares at him through his lashes. It is as shameless as it is—unfortunately—effective.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I enjoyed myself?” There’re nails biting into his forearm lightly. A smirk—broad, pink-lipped.

Cocky little bastard, isn’t he?

“You still are.”

Marc preens, forgets—for a slip of a second—to keep his cards close to his chest. Everything about him becomes bright enough to blind, to cast spots in his vision like he’s staring into the sun. He is horribly easy to like, to forgive.

Even through the stab of the annoyance, the tangle of thorns wrapped around his throat that Andrea has to name envy. Even when he wants to shake Marc by the shoulders—don’t you know? Don’t you see what you are? It never sticks. Marc is that dangerous in close proximity.

Looks eager to prove that he is, too. He shifts his head from one side to the other, gauges the crowd. There’s this focused frown on his forehead. Andrea knows him well enough to brace himself. Realizes—too late—that there’s no bracing for an inspired Marc.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” He pauses, bludgeons on when Andrea doesn’t immediately reply. “I want to.”

Christ.

Christ on the bloody cross.

He doesn’t know why he expected Marc to be subtle or careful, but still.

Andrea sputters out a cough, laughs. He can hear the strain in his voice—the complete fucking disbelief. “What? Here?”

It is a yes by any other name. Marc shrugs, chuckles—he’s an insolent thing, fingers straying playfully over his arm, looking so very sure of himself. Of getting what he wants, always.

Smug.

“Why not?” He asks, eyebrows wagging. It is ridiculous. So is the rush of fondness in his chest. The fishhook tug of Marc’s tongue flashing over his teeth.

Andrea isn’t—usually, he amends—so reckless.

“You’re insane.”

Marc stares at him, shark-eyed, unblinking. It slices through him cleanly like a hot knife, like Marc on a left-hander circuit. “You keep saying that.”

And yet goes unsaid.

He breathes in, a little funny, constricted. His fingers spasm on Marc’s back, cling to the smooth downiness of his pressed shirt. Want jolts through him like touching a live wire—he isn’t thinking. It’s the easiest thing in the world to move his hand, eyes on the party that feels like his burial.

Marc chokes on a noise when Andrea untucks his clothes to reach the skin of his back, when his thumb digs into one of his Venus dimples.

“Alright,” he mutters, soft.

The room melts to nothing around him, a kaleidoscopic blur of color and people he doesn’t care about. Marc’s head is bent, tucked close to his own—an inch closer, and they’ll be inside each other’s skin, breathing the same air. Andrea can only think about the pinkness of his mouth—how near it is.

[tacogoats]

Unwell about the idea of Orin using Durge's face to keep the charade going of the Durge still being around, so Gortash doesn't get suspicious.

He does anyway because she didn't understand how real their relationship was - and she slips up. Often. He knew immediately when the Dark Urge became so, so very cold. Nothing like the warmth he has known for years now behind closed doors; because it isn't them.

She is good at fine details of the body; she gets every scar, every little blemish perfectly, but she can never truly imitate the person behind the Urge.

She couldn't have hoped to anyway, because she didn't know who they really were. Only Gortash could, because he is the first to ask.

It surprises her, and infuriates her, even! The mighty Dark Urge, debased into some lovesick puppy yearning after this little Lordling!

And the mistakes that follow are how Gortash learns the Dark Urge is gone.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAu - On the other side

:3 :3 :3

Guess who is back already?!

Not with the normal cast though :3

No I had an idea for the another person in this AU.

Anyone wondering how Dream is going? :D

So this one is a bit different then all the other installments and don't expect these often as the main focus is on the gang and their now babybones boss. But this one I thought would be fun.

Welcome. To Dream dealing with this (the sometiny changes to the multiverse. A God can't lose his status without it affecting those around him after all :3)

First: here Prev: here Next: here

We good? We good. We are unedited and unbeta'ed as always.

oh shit @spotaus I actually forgot you that time. sorry fam (they gave me the original prompt which is why they keep getting added every update. They are stuck with me now)

*----------*

The sun feels so warm on his bones. Dream lays by the roots of his mother. Enjoying the warm light of the never ending late spring sun which warms his bones. His mother's voice, always loving and so proud of him.

The only thing that would make this moment better would be his brother near him. But he went to wash up a while ago.

Which is okay It isn't. where is nightmare? He will just wait right here for when he comes back.

Nightmare always joins him again. except that one time. The time when it mattered.

Dream loves his brother so much, and Nightmare loves him! Not anymore, not after everything

Dream sighs in the warm light and looks to the side. The village lays in the distance. Beautiful and lively and so so welcome of him!

Rememver your duty my son. You are meant for great things. Never forget that.

Dream hums happily as he looks back up at the branches "I know mom! I will be like you and be a great warrior and bringer of hope!" he smiles up.

A laugh in the air that sounds like a bell A bringer of balance my dear son. Remeber. Too much of one will always spell the end for one.

Dream hums as he enjoys the soft sunlight and happiness he feels in his soul.

He just wishes his brother was here. he wants his brother back, that is all he wants.

oh. I think Nightmare is back from washing himself

Dream blinks his sockets open and looks over. Near the forest edge stands Nightmare. In his purple clothes and with a small silver crown on his skull. Dream smiles and waves from his spot "Nighty! Over here!"

But Nightmare doens't move. He just watches him.

Dream frowns as he sits up "Nighty?"

The sunlight is gone as an ominious rumble is heard overhead. The light feeling in him disappears as he looks back at Nightmare "Nighty! i know it is scary but you need to get over here!" Normal trees can't protect them from thunder and lightning! Their mother can.

Nightmare just continues to stare at him from a distance. Even now Dream thinks he looks tired.

Drema raises to his feet.

His mother's voice fills his skull Dream don't go. It isn't worth the risk.

Dream shakes his skull and leaves the save shadow and cover of his mother. Running towards his brother. He needs to get to him. He can't be too late again. Not when he has this chance to reach him in time.

Dream watches as Nightmare remains rooted in place. Lightning flashes overhead and loud thunder follows right away. Drema flinches but keeps running "Nighty!" his voice lost in the loud rumble and thunder.

Dream is right by him and reaches for him. But another flash of lightning and Dream is blinded. Once he opens his sockets he is no longer by the forest. No, he is in the village. People are screaming. He searches for Nightmare only to see his mother burning in the distance. Her branches ablaze in bright orange light.

Dream rushes towards her. Panic. Why can't he stop this? Why did it happen?

He reaches her but it is already too late. His mother is gone. HIs friends are gone. His brother...

His brother...

Staring at him with betrayal. Dream can feel the hurt and betrayal in the other and Dream realises his has his hand out.

He had hit him. He had attacked him.

Dream reaches for his brother but Nightmare flinches back, away from him.

Because he had hurt him.

Dream can't speak. He can't move.

Nightmare glares at him "Nothing to say for yourself?"

Dream tries but no words leave him. Please Nighty. He is sorry.

Nightmare just continues to glare at him "After everything?! You only came because of those stupid villagers?!"

Dream shakes and tries to shake his skull. tries to deny it. But he can't. His body isn't moving. Nightmare is right, dream had always only cared about the village and what they wanted.

Nightmare turns and walks away. Away from him. Away from their ruined home.

Dream wants to follow but can't move. He is locked in place. just like he had been when he had been turned to stone.

He tries to reach for Nightmare but he is already gone and everything goes dark. Just dark dark dark dark-

Dream gasps as he sits up and checks himself. He can move! He is fine! he... he...

He looks around and sees that he fell asleep on his couch again... in his own living room... again...

He sighs as he sits normally on the couch and puts his skull between his hands. That same dream again. it had been haunting him ever since he had first faced Nightmare. But the dream kept coming back more often lately, for almost two months now...

He is so tired. He can't deal with everyone needing his help today. He can't deal with everyone demanding his attention and support today...

Dream glances at his phone and grabs it. So many numbers in there and many many texts and missed calls already. He ignores them all and finds the right number. He calls it and waits.

"Hey Dream! How are you?"

Drema feels apart of him relax "Blue..."

"... What is wrong?"

Dream feels bad for asking this off him "... can... can i please come over?" he is suposed to be strong. a bringer of hope and light. Yet he keeps failing. He tries so hard but keeps messing up or not being enough.

"Of course. I will clear my own schedule. Can you get here okay?"

Dream smiles and nods "yeah... be there in a bit." Honestly thank everything for Blue.

--

Dream sits on the couch in a different living room. Still feelign exhausted but a bit better. He had told Blue all about the dream he had had... The way it had been bothering him more and more lately and just how exhausting he had been lately.

Blue sits by him as he eats his bowl of cereal, Dream's own bowl untouched. Blue hums as he takes a bite "Seems to me that you are getting burned out." and he eats another bite.

Dream frowns "no? That is for people who do stuff they don't like. I like helping people!" generally... sometimes...

He is the guardian of positivity! He is suposed to like helping others! That is hiw whole purpose!

He wishes he could ask his mother... He wishes he could ask Nightmare, Nightmare had always been better at listening and hearing what their mother said.

Blue hums as he eats more of his breakfast "Everyone can get burned out by everything. It is why Ink can get an artblock. It is why Sci can get overwhelmed and annoyed with his own work. Jsut because you like soemthing doesn't mean you can't get stressed or overwhelmed by it."

Dream blinks confused at Blue and Blue smiles "My bro has it more often than me. Said it like that too much of one thing is always bad, no matter what it is."

Dream... Dream suddenly has a strong sense of dejavu.

Blue nods "Even stuff you like! Say... I love taco's. It is my favourite! But... if i had to cook it everyday and only eat taco's? I would get sick of it. It doesn't mean i don't like them any less. Just, even too much of a good thing is bad. you know?"

Dream gives a slow nod as he stares at Blue "what... what should i do?"

Blue shrugs as he finishes his meal "Take a break? Don't do the guardian stuff for a bit?"

Dream frowns "I can't take a day off!"

Blue tilts hsi skull "Why not? Having a good work ethic is important, I myself have one too, but i know i need breaks. Obviously not as much as some people!" Blue looks over his shoulder with a glare.

Stretch chuckles in the distance "guilty as charged!"

Blue huffs but turns back "But breaks are important. It is why there are rules nad laws about days off and having breaks every so many hours. It sounds to me that you have not been using your vacation days and you should at this point." he puts his empty bowl away and quickly washes it before joining his said again.

Dream already feels anxious. PEople like and listen to him because he helps them. If he stops doing that they may dislike him or not listen and then what does he do?!

Blue sits next to him and keeps waiting for a reply.

Dream rubs his arm "what.. what about... work? What about spreading positivity?"

Blue thinks it over "I mean... It should be fine right? The gang and your brother have been very quiet for the last... what... month? two months?"

Dream nods as he looks at his hands. the anxiety returns "He must be planning somethign big..." something gigantic. And dream has no idea and doesn't even know where to start with getting information or anything-

Blue snaps his fingers and Drema blinks out of his own thoguhts before shooting Blue a confused look.Blue grins at him "I honestly didn't expect that to work. Stop worrying about stuff that hasn't happened yet. Think about the here and now. Your friends are doing okay. The omega timeline doesn't need your help with anything they cna't do themselves. The gang hasn't done anything yet and Errir and Ink still have their third cease fire."

Blue pokes Dream "What will help you right now."

Dream stares at Blue for a moment before looking away. He thinks before he speaks "I think... I think I would like to go... home..." Blue frowns so Dream tries to explain "YOu know... home home... I haven't been there in ages... my... my magic has been... shifting... it is strange... I don't bring as much positivity to others as i used to anymore. Me just being there doesn't make others happy anymore. I... I was hoping... maybe i can find answers there?"

Blue blinks before smiling "That sounds like a wonderful idea! If you give me ten minutes I can get ready to join you."

Dream blinsk confused "You will join me?"

Blue grins and nods "Of course! what are friends for?"

Dream feels lighter and smiles "Thank you blue."

--

not even fifteen minutes later and they had arrived in Dreamtale. Dream... Dream isn't sure what he had been expecting. but it was the same as he remembered. no colours. everythign is grey and frozen. lacking anytype of magic.

It hurt.

They had arrived at the village and blue looks around "oh.. i... i am sorry..." he holds his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

They walk around the village together and that same bittersweet feeling returns to Dream. He remembers playing games here. the little marktes he would visit. How everyone would always be happy to see him.

It had been a beautiful place.

And now it is gone and-

Dream freezes. Blue doens't notice as he keeps walking but dream can't look away. because there in the distance... in another building... that... that looks like...

"Nighty?"

The mirage, or vision, or hallucination looks up in shock. before pure fear overtakes the expression.

He looks so young... had they been that young?

Dream feels himself take a step closer. his soul is pulsing madly and his sockets starts to itch with tears. is he going insane?

The tiny form disappears from view as it disappears behind a wall and out of the view of the window.

Dream doesn't think and starts sprinting.

"Dream?! What is wrong?!"

Dream doesn't stop to explain. He runs through the empty streets. please. please. just a moment longer. just bring that vision back. He just wants to see his brother one more time.

Please.

A crack much like a thunder fills the air and Dream rushes into the house he had originally seen the vision in.

Nothing.

Dream sobs as he falls to his knees.

He was too late again.

Blue joins his side a moment later but Dream can't even begin to explain.

Why did it feel like he lost his brother all over again?

Why did his soul hurt this badly?

Blue holds him and continues to hold him until Drema calms down again.

Dream sobs "Maybe... maybe this was a mistake..." he can't admit he jsut saw a vision of his own brother but as a child... He can't admit he is actually going insane.

Blue just continues his hug "Or maybe this is exactly what you needed. You have been holding in this grieve for a long time Dream. Maybe it needs to be released?"

Maybe he has a point. Dream leans heavily into the hug.

Blue holds them both up easily "Any place you want to visit?"

Dream holds it tightly before looking around "Maybe... maybe my friend is still here? It has only been about two years since a left." she had given him tea and let him sleep on her couch... Later she had broken him out of his stone prison and helped him as he grew up to be who he is today.

He wants to be sure she is okay.

Blue nods as he looks around the village "where to?"

Dream points in a direction "Her house should be over there..." They walk together in silence and Dream finally spots the old house. But it looks old and broken. As if no one had lived there for centuries.

Dream feels himself shake "That can't be right." he rushes inside and freezes as he finds a pile of dust.

oh... how?

Dream sits next to the pile and sobs. Blue joins his side and hugs him.

Time passes and Dream ends up carefully collecting the dust and putting it in a jar. He will have to figure out what her favourite things were and-

"euh... Dream? What is this?"

Dream blinks and looks over to see Blue holding an old beautiful book. Dream frowns as he walks over and reads the title.

'Dreamtale'

Dream feels himself freeze "I... I don't know... where did you find it?"

Blue points towards the room. Dream frowns "I... i was told to never enter that as that had been her personal room. I didn't want to breka the trust..."

Blue hums before just opening the book. Dream hisses "Blue!"

Blue doesn't even look apologetic "Dream. If i have learned one thing about the multiverse, is having an universe named after one person spells trouble for everyone else in that universe. Why would she hide this from you?"

Dream can't help but agree and the two sit together at the table and start reading the story.

--

Dream wants to throw up. He is going to throw up. He just sits with his skull in his hands.

How... how often had nightmare asked him not to leave... to leave him alone? How often had Nightmare told him that the villagers didn't like him.

Dream... Dream never listened.

Dream sobs as he lays fully on the table.

The person he thought had been his friend... the person who gave him tea and a place to sit and rest. drugged him... all to make sure he couldn't interfere when they went to... when they had planned to murder... to murder...

dying...

all those years again.. Nightmare had accused him of not even caring that he had been dying. dream had thought it had been the corruption somehow talking to him, mocking him. Trying to make him feel horrible...

It had been Nightmare himself... accusing him of leaving him to be hurt and die alone.

And he had been right.

Dream sobs as tears leave his sockets. His sight finds the jar with dust of that... that... woman! That! Rage burns through him but two arms keep him in place.

"It is okay Dream. Let it all out."

Dream shakes his skull as he pushes closer to Blue "It isn't okay!! I am a fucking idiot! I was too fucking blind and now! Now I-" more sobs.

Blue jsut holds him tighter "You were a kid dream"

Dream sobs as he tightens his hold on blue "So was nighty..."

His dreams... his dreams and even that hallucination must have been trying to tell him all along there was more than he saw. That something had been going on. But dream was too busy. Always too busy. Before he had been too busy wiht the village and villagers... and now he was too busy with the multiverse.

eventually the tears dry as Blue just keeps holding him.

Dream sniffs "How do i fix this?"

Blue pauses his movement and clearly thinks for a while. Dream feels worse the longer Blue doesn't answer.

Blue sighs as he leans his own skull against Dream "I don't know. I would say you could try to talk with Nightmare but... well..."

Dream tightens his hold on Blue. every time him and Nightmare met they never spoke. Dream had for a while tried to tell Ngihtmare he could do better nad make up for the wrongs he did...

No wonder Nightmare doesn't want to speak to him anymore. Dream pretty much said that Nightmare should feel bad for fighting for his own survival... that he should feel bad for killing those who tried to kill him.

Dream feels sick all over again as he pushes closer to Blue. Being near blue helps.

Blue keeps a tighter hold on him "For now... you can take the book with you at least... keep your story with you you know? And maybe try and approach the subject if you see him again?"

Dream nods before anxiety reaches him "How will i tell everyone this?"

Blue pulls back and stares him in the socket "Stop. YOu dont have to tell them."

Dream looks away "They deserve an explanation and-"

Blue shakes his skull and looks at Dream "They don't. Just because they think they do deosn't mean they actually do. You don't have to hurt yourself to please them. You don't have to share this just opened hurt with those who won't support you dream."

Dream still feels sick "won't that be selfish?"

Blue shakes his skull "people demanding you share your trauma with them are entitled. You don't have to tell anything if you aren't comfortable."

Dream sniffs before nodding.

Blue nods and slowly helps him too his feet "Now. We came here with a mission and that was to find out what was up with your magic... the book didn't hold the answer so i am going to assume it may have to do with adult you. is there any other place you could learn more of yourself?"

Dream frowns. his head still a bit foggy "maybe... mom would know... but she never told us much... and she is gone... and i haven't been there since... well. i turned to stone." even after he got broken out he hadn't been brave enough to return.

Blue nods "How about.... we walk around first... see if we find anymore... clues" he eyes the book before looking back at him "And once you are ready go see your mom?"

Dream thinks for a moment before nodding.

Dream and Blue end up going to the hill after a quick walk around the village. All the good memories that Dream had had had already turned bittersweet after them dying. Now? They just burned him. Made Dream angry in a way he couldn't put into words. He had helped those unthankful assholes! He helped them day after day after day! Adn they hurt... they hurt... They killer his mother! They tried to kill Nightmare!

They walk up the hill silently and dream is dragging is feet.

Dream didn't think he could feel worse but he was wrong.

Because right by the dead stump of his mother.

Are two old graves.

One saying Nim. One saying Dream.

The worst part is that they looked well maintained and there are fresh flowers on them.

After that Blue calls it a day and helps him home. Saying that they will ask other people in the multiuniverse about gods changing powers later. and with a crack like thunder they teleport away and out of that universe again.

*-----------------*

... *coughs* did someone say brother complex? Also this ended up a lot longer than planned? Woops? Look it was just suposed to be about Dream seeing tiny NIghtmare in their old AU but then a lot happened and I figured Dream also had a lot of trauma and well... tada?

Look. I never said Dream was dealing well with the changes... If i am being honest Nightmare took his own slight body horror better than Dream took the slight changes around him and the vision of his younger brother :3

First: here Prev: here Next: here

anyway. Love you all. You are fun and nice to hang out with! See you next drabble. also i can't believe this account that i just had to give little extra information abut my main AU just... has a second AU living here now.... guess that happened...

[comic-sans-chan]

obsessed with julian asking "what did they do to you? is it some kind of punishment device?" in the wire because my god if this man didn’t go from "this is garak my super cool spy pal who i go on secret missions with and sometimes fuck teehee but also yeah his planet’s kinda fucked up and he’s got some weird ideas but we’re working on it" to "this is garak he's my precious little angel babyman who has been horribly traumatized and brainwashed by his government but it's okay because i'm a doctor and i will fuck and suck the fascism out of him if it’s the last thing i do" in just two years. shit's wild

[corviiids]

planning to post ch 7 of my akechi palace au, "as you like it", on his birthday 2 june so in the leadup (while i reread it and make sure im not contradicting myself) here are some of my favourite and silliest bits and pieces out of the chapters that are up so far

AND a sneak peek of my favourite part of chapter 7. for kicks

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Coming up with a new heart wrenching fic idea for LCF and damn I can't wait to write it when it isn't time for me to sleep

[buttercupshands]

Chapter 419 Analysis or "How to completely break Tenko Shimura" a manipulative guide from All For One (part 1)

This is mainly a character analysis of Shigaraki Tomura or Shimura Tenko, any other character present is there to help.

Chapter 419 was hard to comprehend even with just summaries right on April 4th. Some things need at least fan translation to fully make sense. Or just hurt more in that matter.

Warning of spoilers to the whole manga to the point of chapter 419! All of the warnings from the respective Tomura chapters are applicable.

So like... mentions of death, killing other people, manipulation, emotional abuse and many more!

This is Part 1 - See Part 2 for something less depressing

This is going to be long! So let's start, shall we?

First of all we'll need to take into understanding ALL the chapters that we'll need to remember/reread just make this chapter worse (skip if already familiar with them):

Chapter 222 - Tomura Shigaraki: Distortion

Chapter 234 - Destruction Sense

Chapter 235 - Tenko Shimura: Origins

Chapter 236 - Tenko Shimura Origins, Part 2

Chapter 237 - Tomura Shigaraki: Origins

This is your "Tenko and Tomura understanding" starter pack, basically. Without them it's harder to even start unpacking what just happened with Tomura's perspective in mind

Well then.

The chapter starts and we are immediately greeted by AFO semi-agreeing without wanting to, that Tomura was strong enough before Izuku started trying "saving" him in his own way and even succeeded making Tenko's will all the more fragile than it was when he returned using his hate to his advantage.

Even after Izuku holding Tenko's hands for the whole chapter he was still stubborn enough to continue even without that hate in his heart

And the thing that initial summaries missed was the fact that Tomura actually reacted to AFO reapperance.

Still not understanding why AFO was even saying that.

Tenko was literally taught by AFO to follow "what he wants" in ch 237 with Tenko making his first decision to kill someone himself. And never actually hiding that Tomura just needed to never forget that hatred and those bad emotions that Tomura never really understood. And it took Izuku seconds to decipher them.

With AFO reassuring Tomura that he has no need in following morals of society and just should follow whatever he wants - his want to destroy everything that hurts him. And only AFO would accept and help him. He was constantly reminded of that.

Even if Tenko was feeling sick from killing at first, even if hands that he wore were still making him sick 15 years later without him understanding anything. Decisions made while person is emotional are usually the ones that the person might regret the most and Tomura lived with those unstable emotions for years. Knowing that they hurt him and make him feel sick.

But Sensei said that it's okay to follow those emotions. That's it's actually great that he does it.

Everything was for his sake, everything was for Tomura Shigaraki and Tomura Shigaraki only. He was his Sensei's successor and no one should argue with it. He's the only one to be next ruler of the underground and the next king. And Tomura gladly accepted that as truth.

Since it was easier than facing his guilt.

Because AFO just needed Tomura to have enough willpower to get OFA when the plan is ready. To make Gigantomachia to follow him while Garaki was watching knowing full well how the plan is going. Both knowing full well that Tomura is still holding himself back.

In this chapter however we finally see how all of the things AFO told and taught Tenko were just to make him so sure that HE was in control and allowed to do whatever he wants to completely break his worldview in the end "after he gets OFA" which is an unreachable goal now since OFA is gone for good.

By just saying that Tenko never had any choice to begin with.

Tomura already knew that AFO manipulated him and he was just a pawn, needed only to get OFA and piss off All-Might he accepted and embraced it as something unimportant. It was his choice and he was free to do it and not feel bad about it. Since he's born to destroy.

Until suddenly it wasn't just his life after Decay that was manipulated.

But his whole life from birth. Just because AFO didn't get his hands on Hana sooner and she was happy while AFO needed someone hurt and broken. And Shimura's household wasn't as bad as he needed it to be at first with Kotaro loving his children, wife, in-laws and even his mother.

And AFO destroyed it by creating so much conflict and even going out of his way to make sure Tenko's father knew that he was playing heroes with some kids. And even saved them by putting his own quirkless life in danger.

In some sense narrator-Tomura's words at the end of ch 236 still might hold true. AFO didn't just create his hate out of nowhere, to make it feel like even if Tenko remembers everything it's still he's doing not a villain appearing, not just some accident that it actually was.

Although AFO doesn't say anything about people who didn't help Tenko even though he he knew that it happened so he most probably was watching it happen until Tenko lost all hope entirely to finaly make him dependent on his help.

And he succeeded for the most part.

Tomura was making an assumption after he remembered everything that he "must've been yearning for that" and from that point onwards explains everything that happened as "I wanted it - I did it" and was clinging to it like a lifeline to explain everything.

He accepted that if Re-Destro is talking about his Decay quirk affecting him he exists only to destroy.

And now it seems he found a false motivation for himself that AFO created by cruely manipulating everything from his quirk to his family. Making him believe he had a hand in it. Breaking one of "safe" truths that Tomura never doubted. They only made his decisions feel right.

Which makes that a hopeless loop of broken memories being staged just to let Tenko become Tomura who hates and destroys everything believing that it's his choice. Only choice at that.

And if destroying is him only choice because of his quirk... then what can a quirkless person do while having so many people dead from his own hands? Hands that were literally cursed to have destruction quirk in them not because he was born to do it. But because his own Sensei wanted that.

And he's "unwavering heart" is now nothing but an illusion that was destroyed by both Izuku and AFO together.

There's no "Can I be a Hero?", because can he even be a Villain if most of the choices that were from Decay and the hatred in his heart weren't actually his own?

[icewindandboringhorror]

Just curious what the average level of personal investment in these sorts of things is. Like, how much do people usually get into silly stuff like this their friends ask of them? etc. etc. Which I know, only surveying a small sample on a very specific website means I'm not getting an exact average idea lol, but.. curious nonetheless .. Maybe reblog for bigger sample size but also this is not very serious at all/not worth a call to action gbhjbhjb