#its so fuuuuuucked

[clits-and-clips]

Every time I go into the shops I get emotional and almost start crying literally everything reminds me of him im gonna lose it

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝…? ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝟷𝟷: 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙴˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 (𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 💗)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟷,𝟽𝟿𝟻

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢….𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚖𝚎 *𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚗𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎*

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, ��𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚢𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚊.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙰 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃𝚈 𝙸𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝚂𝙾 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙻𝙸𝚃 𝙾𝙼𝙶‼️‼️‼️˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Dreams were one thing. 

Mikey loved dreams. 

He adored dreams in fact. 

It was…his escape from reality; sort of like drawing in a sense. Except, when he dreamt…he didn’t have to do a single thing.

He could do anything he wanted…whenever he wanted without having to get the 'a-okay' from anyone.

And plus, the best part about dreams was that if there was an ice cream cat barfing up sprinkles…Mikey wouldn’t question it oneeeeee bit. 

That was the magical part about dreams. 

But…there were always two sides to a coin.

…Nightmares…were the opposite of dreams…

…And they were a whole other thing.

They could turn your most happiest memories and moments into horrid and scary ones.

It could turn the most greenest of valleys into nothing but dry ash, blowing away in the wind and fluttering and intoxicating the air. 

Or…perhaps…maybe nightmares were just…lonely. 

Perhaps…it was just lonely to be alone, watching you sit in your room as you break into cold sweat, the darkness weighing you down like a ton of bricks. 

And maybe the nightmares wanted you to be there with it…so it wouldn’t have to be alone…

'I could be lonely with you' as Beach Bunny would say…

But back to the initial topic, Michelangelo always hated having nightmares.

But what he hated more was not even remembering what said nightmares was about. 

It was terrifying for sure— I mean— he woke up from it so it must’ve been really…bad…right?

The box turtle sighed loudly, running a tired and shaky hand down his face.

…He should probably get some water while he’s awake; his mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert.

Or, better yet, Mikey could go find his brothers.

Well…one of them. Or at least see if anyone was awake.

The light scarlet eyed mutant hopped down from his bed, hugging himself with one of his blankets as he made his way towards the hallway, the darkness almost consuming him in the process. 

Even as a little kid, the box turtle was never fond of the dark. 

…You could never see beyond it. 

It was cold and…just, well, dark in general if that makes sense. 

Michelangelo never understood the appeal some people had to it.

The only time he did welcome darkness, though, was when there was light occumpining it. 

Like the moon. 

Or the stars. 

Or even car lights! 

It was Mikey’s small reminder that no matter where he was, there was always some glow or gleam with him…

So relitavley speaking, he should head to where the nearest light was…which was his immiediate older brother’s room. 

The smallest turtle opened Leo’s car door ever so slightly, peeking inside to see a very sound sleeping slider. 

The youngest buried down his disappointment as he quietly closed the door, going back into the darkness once more.

Leo barely got any sleep as is…

…And besides…the chance of accidentally waking him up was waaaay too high. 

It was fine, anyway. Mikey could try going to Raph’s! 

Michelangelo dragged his orange blanket with him, putting it around his shoulders as he tip-toed to Raphael’s room…surely he was awake, right? 

“Raph…?” The youngest called out quietly, looking into his older brother’s room. The smallest mutant wasn’t greeted with a small grunt of acknowlgemnt nor a kind Raph greeting.

What the light scarlet eyed teen was greeted with, though, was a loud, ear pierecing snore from the snapping turtle. 

Mikey snickered softly at his brother’s loud noises, going into the room and giving him his favorite Squishmello that was on the floor.

The alligator snapping turtle smiled in his sleep, squishing the plushie to his chest and his tail wagged slightly. The smaller turtle giggled at the action, walking out and closing the car door.

Alright…so the odd’s on Donnie being up…were…rather…slim but it was fine! 

Quite very much fine.

If the softshell was asleep, the light scarlet eyed mutant would just hed back to his room…alone; in complete darkness. 

…But it would be fine…!

Probably.

The box turtle quickly and quietly shimmied to his purple loving brother’s room buuut not before tripping over his own feet and stumbling in front of Donnie’s train car door.

And Mikey was supposed to be a ninja…pfft, yeah right. 

The youngest turtle got up on his feet, brushing off his knees and shoulders as he grabbed his blanket from the floor. 

Maybe if he just stood perfectly still until the crack of dawn…Donnie wouldn’t wake up…!

Besides, it’s not like the softshell heard him or anything.

“I can hear you trying to be quiet over there, Mikes.” The second oldest deadpanned, turning around of his bed so him and his little brother shared eye contact.

Well shit…

The youngest’s stomach twisted and turned with guilt, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned on the doorway nervously, “Oh! H-Hey, Dee…sorry…did I wake you up…?” Michelangelo asked guiltily. 

“Eh, kinda. But it’s alright.” Donatello yawned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up on his bed, reaching for his desk as he put on his glasses. 

“…Are you going to come into my very humble abode or are you just going to continue to stand there?” The taller turtle asked, squinting into the darkness where the youngest was almost being consumed by.

Mikey shook his head ever so slightly, closing the door and hopping into Donnie’s bed with his blanket. The elder hugged the smaller turtle tight, rubbing his shell gently as Michelangelo melted into the embrace. 

The box turtle buried his face in his older brother’s chest as the other rested his chin at the top of the smallest turtle’s head, “Mhmmmm…your warm as fuck…”

Donnie bit back a loud laugh, instead, smiling faintly as he rolled his eyes fondly. 

Typical Mikey…

The second oldest wrapped his younger brother tighter in the hug, “Your literally using me as a blanket right now. I’m not your own personal heater, y'know.” 

“Ehhhh…you kinda are to be honest.” The other snickered. 

“Oh? You're just using me for my body heat, huh? And here I thought you loved me for me…” Donatello sniffled theatrically, wiping away a fake tear for dramatic effect.

“I do! But I also love you for your body heat.” The younger turtle giggled snarkily. 

Donnie scoffed, shaking his head slightly as he smiled; he couldn’t help but chuckle faintly.

"You're such a dunderhead, y'know that?” The older said as he scribbled at the youngest’s sides, grinning as Mikey almost immediatley squealed with laughter. 

“Here I am, pouring my heart out to you, being all sentimental and caring...and all you care about is my toasty body heat.” Donatello fake seethed, scribbling where the younger’s plastron met his shell. 

Michelangelo screeched loudly at his brothers squiggly and wriggly fingers, hugging his middles before turning around so his shell faced the young scientist. 

The light scarlet eyed turtle squealed, kicking his legs from under the bed sheets as his brother continued to tickle him, “N-NohoHAH! D-Deehee cahahome ohon dohon’t doohoo thihihis!” He squeaked, pulling on Donatello’s arms. 

“And where do you think you’re going, little brother?” The taller turtle asked, wrapping one arm around Mikey’s chest so his arms were at his sides. “You’re not going anywhere~!” Donnie grinned before scribbling his free hand all long the younger’s stomach. 

“OHO FAHAAAHACK! DEEHEE NOHO STAHAP!! THAHAT’S SOHO SOHO BAHAHAD!!!” Michelangelo screeched whilst laughing loudly and hysterically, kicking his legs so much that the blankets soared high in the air and fell on the floor. 

'And she was a fairy' ahh moment…

“I’m going to tickle you foreveeeeer! Eeheevihil lahahaugh!” The purple hoodie wearing mutant announced as he nibbled the crook of his baby brother’s neck.

Donnie laughed along with the other, his mind flashing back to times when they were very little…

…When they would lay together in the dark with fairy lights hung around the ceiling, infodumping about shows and movies as he would hold his younger brother close to him to keep him warm…

…It was just like when they were little kids.

Well, almost like when they were little kids. 

In their early childhood years there was definetly less hyena cackling…that was for sure.

“GAHAHAD DAHA— squeal NOOOHOHOHO!” The younger mutant squealed, shaking his head as a faint blush spread to his cheeks.

“Yeeeeeeees~!” Donatello playfully cooed, “And stop your loud Tom-foolery! You’re going to wake up the entire lair!”

“THEHEN STAH— squeal!! GOHOD— squeak SCREHEHEW YAHA— YOHOU! STOHOHAP TIHICKLING squeak MEEHEEHEE!” Mikey yelled through his laughs. 

“But you looooove it~!” The other smugly countered. 

“DEEEEEHEEHEE! PLAHAHEASE! YOHOUR GOHOHONNA KILL MEEHEE!!”

“Kill yohou?” The elder mutant asked in awe, pausing the tickling for a split second before mercilessly prodding where the other’s ribs would be.

The reaction was almost immediate as Michelangelo let out a loud, genuine scream before descending into hysterical fits of laughter. 

Mikey thrashed and squealed helplessly, throwing his head back on his older brother’s shoulder. “DOHOHAHA— squeak DOHOHAHANNIE!!”

“You are conversing with Donatello; yes?” 

“PLAHAHAHEASE!”

“Please what~? Pleeeeease keep tickling you~? Pleeeeease tickle tickle your oh-so ticklish ribs~?” 

“N-NAHAH! THAHAT IHIS NOHOT WHAHA— squeal IHI DIDN’T MEEEHEAN THAHAAAT!”

The softshell chuckled lowly, holding his baby brother’s wrists above his head as he lightly nibbled his ribs. 

The box turtle squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back once more as he could do nothing but happily laugh. 

“D'awww~! Are Mikey’s wittle wibs tickwish~?” Donnie teased, using his free hand to flutter along the orange cladded turtle’s neck.

“AAAAAHAHAHAH— SQUEAK!! NONONOHOHO! DEEHEE DEEHEE NOHO— SQUEAK SQUEAK— NAHAHA— SQUEAL— NOHO MOHOHORE!!!”

“No more~? Are you sure~?”

“YEHAHAHAH! YEHEHES YEHE— SQUEAL YEHEHES!!” 

Donnie gave his brother one last poke at the rib before stopping and hugging him from behind, resuming the gentle shell rubs. “I guess I really am nothing more than your own personal heater, hm? Just a walking furnace at your command…”

The box turtle mutant groaned loudly, flicking the taller turtle’s forehead slightly, “Deeeehee yohou knohow damn wehell thahahat’s nohot true.” Mikey pouted, snuggling in the embarce. 

"Yeah, yeah…I know, I know. You supposedly love me for more than just my body heat.”Donatello said as he let out a huff of laughter and rolled his eyes. 

The elder wrapped his arms tighter around his brother, resting his chin on the orange cladded teen’s head once more. 

The smaller turtle giggled at the action before yawning, snuggling into the other’s plastron, “Lohove yohou, dorkwad…”

“Pfft— dorkwad? Is that the best you can do? Really?” The softshell snickered. 

“Is ahass faced Atomic Lahass fuhucker good enohough fohor you?” The box turtle asked snarkily. 

“I’ll stick with dorkwad, thanks.” The older giggled. 

“That’s whahat I thohought.” Mikey grinned as he yawned, resting on his face on his brother’s chest, “Lohove you, Dee.”

“I love you too, Angelo.” 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[fruitsofhell]

everytime i think about curly i just imagine his every waking moment being

[lesbiangiratina]

Fucking getchou

[shoot-i-messed-up]

trying to figure out the logistics of a Superlantern arranged marriage AU

[chrollogy]

NO WAY THIS MAN JUST CALLED ME TO COME 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[hauntingblue]

Last arcane episode ever..... here we fucking go....

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Wait holy fuck did I ever show you guys this wallpaper I made for myself on PicCollage 💖💖💖💖💖💖

This shit makes me so fucking happy every time I see it on my lockscreen, highly recommend y'all do the same on ur phone, 'puters, etc

Art by mothfinite, rexscanonwife, hotrodharts, bilumiart, cupiidzbow, mynolia, and me!!

[thetangibleghost]

all Tumblr users do these days is lie, scroll, and fuck.

[dingbatnix]

Deity

Rest (part 2)

I was vibin hard with some DreamXD is actually Dream, so this kinda just spawned :D

It was supposed to be shorter, but somehow it just...exploded into a very long word monster.

Anyway, have some sketchy reference art for Dream and Karl’s god forms. (pending till when I feel like it ;D)

Oh yeah thanks to @local-squishmallow for proofreading! : )

Word Count: 8,164

Warnings: Alludations to Fatal Vore, Fearplay, Ect. Pretty mild on the violence this time, actually :D

Also, y’know, my autocorrect says that ‘alludations’ isn’t a word. But it also says ‘vore’ isn’t a word, so screw grammar, I make my own words and rules >:}

Dream was trapped in an incredibly boring gathering. Again. For what seemed to be the millionth time for this century, and it was starting to get on his nerves. Dream hated gatherings. Now, don’t get him wrong, he was a people person, and he actually liked catching up with old friends and meeting the newly-formed gods and goddesses, but in a gathering like this, everything was too formal. He didn’t want to be stuck in a stiff, fancy environment with little to no humor and no fun. He couldn’t even crack a joke without breaking some social rule or something equally stupid.

Now, as both the God of the End and the Overworld, he was one of the most powerful gods to exist (below the Gods of Prime, of course.) As such, it was his duty to keep the peace between the others by hosting such events, but Prime, if it wasn't the most dry, soul-sucking kind of event he'd ever had to participate in. He couldn’t even chat with any of his friends because he was stuck at the head of the room in a gilded seat in case anybody needed to speak to him, or if any of the new godlings needed to meet him. It was so boring.

If he could, he’d ditch the gathering and go hang out with the two mortals he had recently befriended, but for one, the Gods of Prime would chew him out for ‘abandoning his ever-so-important post’ at such an big event, and two, if they found out he was in contact with mortals, the humans would be killed, and he would be stripped of his powers and position for interacting with them.

He stretched his secondary pair of wings out absently, iridescent white feathers glittering beautifully in the amber light of the magicked sconces. A few appreciative humms purred through the room, but he didn't much care for what the others thought of his wings. He would love to be flying right now, or even sprinting through the trees in the overworld, but no, he had to stay here and look important. He held down an irritated scoff and leaned back in his fancy, slightly uncomfortable, seat.

One of the other gods, (and Dream knew their name, he definitely did, absolutely) sidled up to his side and snapped their fingers, a small, fancy cage appearing in the air next to them. Dream perked up a little at the sight, knowing what it meant. Usually, whenever this particular god approached someone (they were a courier of sorts, for between the worlds), it meant that the mortals of the overworld or netherworld had sacrificed an animal or another mortal in that god's name.

Dream’s currently nonexistent mouth watered. Sacrifices and offerings, particularly human sacrifices and offerings, were delicious. There wasn’t another taste quite like it, at least, not that anybody had found. Dream greeted the other god warmly and leaned forward in his seat.

"You've been given two mortal sacrifices, End." They murmured, letting the small enclosure drift into two of Dream’s awaiting hands. He quietly thanked the god, who nodded and moved away, then looked down through the bars to inspect the two mortals that he had been offered. Being the God of the Overworld and the End did have its benefits, he supposed.

And there, smack dab in the center of the cage, cowering down against one another, were the two human mortals Dream had befriended. His stomach dropped, and if he didn’t have such an excellent grasp over his appearance, his body would have fizzled out in shock.

They were terrified, that much he could tell from how they were pressed up against each other, tiny eyes darting from the large, gilded gathering hall around them to the mingling mass of inhumanely-shaped gods to Dream himself. The dual-colored eyes of the older mortal, George, the one Dream often gave pretty gifts and anything else he asked for, eyed him suspiciously. The one with dark hair and fiery bright irises, Sapnap, who Dream enjoyed fighting and competing with, glared at everything, a dark, angry scowl plastered over his fanged lips. Their hands were twined together, and they had their backs pressed against one another in a horribly defensive position.

The probability that they knew why they were there was very, very unlikely, as the language of the gods, the one they had all been speaking, was indecipherable to mortals. The most they probably knew was that they had been left at an altar, and were then brought to someplace that was too bright, stuffed in a cage, and given to some random giant creature.

The two wouldn't recognize Dream, of course, not when he was in his true body. The size, for one, would make it impossible for him to be the Dream they knew. The true forms of the gods were always massive in comparison to humans and mortal creatures. It was a difference that Dream had never truly thought about until just now, when he was presently aware of how tiny his two human friends were compared to himself. His fingers were longer than they were tall.

Then the white mask over his face, one with an 'XD' marked delicately onto the surface. It was a small shorthand for who he was, as the End and Overworld god, though the distinction was hardly needed. Anyone who could feel his aura would know who he was. The mask was similar to the one he wore in his human body, but there was no way they would know it was him. That, plus the dual halos that orbited over his head to form a spherical 'X.'

The four arms his body hosted, two to each of his shoulders, separated him further from the supposed ‘mortal’ they knew, and the six great white wings that sprouted out from his shoulder blades, an eye of ender floating near the wrist of each, threw that distinction even further.

Dream had always taken his human form when he visited them out in the overworld, unwilling to reveal his godly status to them lest they grow afraid and leave him, and to shield his own actions from the Gods of Prime. He didn’t want word of his mortal interaction to get back to them, lest he be cast out and his two friends killed.

It was customary to consume human sacrifices when you received them, but Dream didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to kill his two human friends! He valued them too much, he was too close to them. He liked hanging out with them and joking with them, and he liked doing the little chase game the three of them had devised, the one they dubbed ‘Manhunts.’

Dream fluffed up the primary pair of his wings, expertly hiding his discomfort, and frowned. He didn’t want to lose that relationship. Not even to have the ambrosiac treat of a mortal.

There was, of course, a way he could safely consume them, but…but that would be terrifying for them. As a God who had the ability to shapeshift, he could do whatever he wanted with his current body. That meant he could form a safe little pocket within himself, to store them for an indefinite amount of time. The best way to get them there, though, would be to act as though he was actually going to eat them, and he didn’t want to be the cause of such fear and panic that they would surely experience.

He decided to leave the cage floating by his side, planning to discreetly release George and Sapnap back to the overworld once the gathering was over, and hoping that nobody would look too closely at the occupied cage, but not too long after he had received the ‘offerings,’ one of the other gods approached him.

The God of Time neared, eyeing the cage curiously. At least, Dream figured he was looking at the cage. Time wore a blindfold around his eyes, a cool lilac-grey that changed color depending on his emotions, that had a dark lemniscate, the symbol for infinity, stitched into the soft-looking fabric.

Dream muttered a small greeting to Time, who returned it absently. He seemed more focused on the two mortals in the cage than anything else, which worried Dream to no end. What was he wanting…?

“Are you going to…?” Time finally asked, gesturing towards the cage in an obvious question. The two tiny mortals flinched away from his hand. Dream thought fast, knowing it would seem suspicious if he outright refused to eat them.

"I'm not in the mood," He grumbled, leaning against his high-backed seat. "The last sacrifice I had gave me indigestion for days." The other god gave him a small, absent nod, fingers tangling in the multitude of chains, trinkets, and time-keeping instruments strung around his neck and shoulders.

"If you don't want them, I'll take them," the God of Time offered, hidden eyes nearly glued to the two humans as he fidgeted with his bangles and watches.

Dream immediately bristled. Oh hell no! Did he want George and Sapnap for himself? Did he want to eat them for keeps?! Dream knew that Time rarely got sacrifices, as most of the mortals didn’t see him as an actual deity. Dream could sympathize for the other god, but like hell would he give his two fragile human friends to someone else to kill.

A few of the eyes that floated about his wings swiveled to glare at Time, and Dream let a low rumble emanate from his chest. It was too quiet for anyone but himself and Time to hear, which was what Dream wanted. He didn’t need to create a spectacle over this, especially not when George and Sapnap were at risk.

"No. They weren't sacrificed to you, now were they?" Dream grouched, maybe a bit too sharply.

The God of Time averted his gaze and raised his long arms in surrender, splaying his hands out apologetically. One of the many ribbons of golden sand that flowed around his body flickered and twisted strangely under Dream's harsh gaze before stabilizing itself.

“What are you going to do with them, then?” He queried, an odd tone bleeding into his voice. He bit at his lip, seemingly nervous, and shifted his footing.

“I don’t know, feed them to the dragon or something?” Dream flared his secondary wings up in a facsimile of a shrug, feigning indifference. He wouldn’t actually feed them to the ender dragon, but it would be a good excuse for why they had suddenly disappeared, and it would back up his unwillingness to eat them.

“That’s such a waste, though!” Time exclaimed, blindfold shifting colors from lilac to a pale fuchsia. “I’ll gladly take them off your hands, End. You wouldn’t have to make the trip to see the dragon if you gave them to me.” The other god pressed, inching closer to the floating container.

Dream hooked a clawed finger through the cage bars and pulled it away from Time, slightly concerned that the other god would snatch it and bolt. He raised his tertiary wings defensively, leaning forward and staring Time down.

“What if I like visiting the dragon? She always enjoys it when I bring her gifts, and she loves the attention. What is with you, Time? You're not usually like this.” Dream snapped defensively, primary wings fluffing up to twice their size.

Time’s shoulders shrunk in, but he pressed on, strangely persistent. Dream was more than a little annoyed and concerned, now. “Please, End? I hardly ever get offerings! None of the mortals really believe in me,” he pushed, seemingly more desperate. Dream brought one of his tertiary wings between them, and, more importantly, between the other god and the two mortals, growing slightly uncomfortable at the God of Time’s intensity.

He realized that Time probably wouldn’t give up on pestering him for the two mortals anytime soon. With a small internal sigh, he came to the conclusion that he would have to take care of the problem in the best way he could think of; ‘eating’ Sapnap and George. Maybe then Time would get off his back about it.

“Actually,” Dream said slowly, tugging the cage in front of him and further away from the other god. “I think I will eat them. I suddenly have an appetite.” The color of Time’s blindfold drained to a pale greenish-yellow, and his fingers tightened in his pendant chains. He tried to protest, but Dream ignored him in favor of focusing on his two mortal friends.

He'd have to do Sapnap first, and get him over with. The fireborn-mortal would fight the most, and probably be the most difficult to get down.

Dream let a jagged black maw form and split the lower half of his mask, testing it a few times by opening and closing his jaw. He didn’t form any teeth, as he didn’t want to accidentally bite either of his fragile friends, but he did shape a soft, pliant tongue, to make the landing into his mouth not as harsh, and allowed saliva to pool over and underneath it so that he could slicken them up and make the journey down easier on all of them. For the faux stomach, he simply opened up a small pocket of flesh between his lungs, just below his heart, and attached it to his esophagus via a small opening near the top of this new space. He supplied air through small connections to his lungs, knowing that his two mortal friends couldn't last as long as he could without breathing.

Fake stomach prepared, he braced the cage with two of his hands and reached into it with a third hand, intent on grabbing the dark-haired human. The bars yielded to his touch, automatically bending around his wrist as he stuck his hand through them.

He moved quickly, surrounding Sapnap in his fist before the tiny mortal could scramble away, pulling him from George’s desperately grabbing hands, and lifting him from the solid metal floor, then up through the bars, out of the cage.

Dream did his best to ignore both of their cries of fear, as well as Time's strangled gasp, as he lightly tossed Sapnap into his newly-formed mouth and closed it. The tiny mortal cursed, shoving at the roof of Dream’s mouth and kicking violently at his tongue. He held his wince and squashed the human against the roof of his mouth, soaking his clothes in saliva. He then pushed Sapnap to the entrance of his throat and swallowed, ignoring the clawed fingers that drew blood and the furious shriek Sapnap let loose.

The sound of tiny screaming drew a few curious glances from the other gods, but they soon looked away. The consuming of mortal sacrifices was normal for them all, so the screeching humans were nothing interesting to watch.

As Sapnap slid down to the safe stomach, Dream turned his gaze down to his brunette friend. George had actual tears in his eyes, and his breath was coming in such short, harsh pants that it was a small miracle that he hadn’t passed out already. Dream felt a pang of regret ring through his chest, but he pushed it down. He had already made his decision. It would look incredibly suspicious if he backed out now.

Holding back another sigh, he stuck his hand back through the cage bars and moved to grab the little mortal. George pressed against the bars of the cage, chest heaving, then tried to lunge underneath Dream's clawed hand as it approached. Instinctively, Dream slapped his hand down on top of the human, slamming him to the floor of the cage and trapping him underneath his palm. Dream winced at George's strangled cry of pain, and resolved to apologize for that later. As well as for everything else. Profusely.

Carefully, he scooped the struggling man up and pressed him between his fingers and palm, negating his struggling. “Fuck off, you monster!” George screeched as Dream brought him out of the cage. The spoken English was a jarring difference from the language spoken in the godly realm, and usually Dream enjoyed hearing it. Now, though? It hurt.

Gently, he shoved the now definitely crying, cursing mortal into his mouth and closed it. Dream ignored the saltine taste of the human’s tears as he ran his tongue over George’s body, and when he finally swallowed, it was a relief to no longer have to endure the flavor of his fear and anguish.

They both tasted amazing, aside from the fact that it was his two closest friends he was eating. Of course, mortals always were like the sweetest ambrosia, and usually Dream really would enjoy it. Not now though. Not this time, not when it was George and Sapnap. He held back a shudder and straightened his shoulders. Now he just needed to wait for the end of the gathering, so that he could explain everything and let them go.

Through everything, Time's gaze never left him. He couldn’t see the other god’s eyes, but something about his aura felt desperate, felt heart-broken. Dream forced himself to brush it off. If Time wanted human sacrifices that bad, he could work harder to make himself known to the mortals. These two, he could not have.

Dream could hear them crying from inside of him, and though the sound never left his body, it haunted him. It tore at his heart, and he wanted to reassure them so badly, but he couldn’t. If any of the other gods knew that he was friends with mortals…

Something sharp spiked into his flesh from the inside, but the wound healed almost immediately. Dream held his winces, and eventually, the two mortals gave up and stopped stabbing at his guts.

Eventually, Time wandered away, a sickening green wash coloring his blindfold. Dream didn’t watch him for too long after he left. He was more focused on the no-longer struggling contents of his gut. They were scared, that was for certain, but maybe it had been long enough that they had realized they weren’t going to die?

Death shot him a knowing look near the end of the gathering. Dream held back a wince. Of course she'd know that he didn't actually eat the two mortals...their lives were her domain, after all.

He raised his primary set of wings at her, daring her to say anything, but she only quirked her lips in a serene smile and turned away. Uncertainly, Dream folded his wings back down and settled back into his chair. Death wasn’t one to call someone out on something, and she was actually quite nice. Maybe she wouldn’t report him to the Prime Gods? He hoped not. He’d have to talk to her when he next got the chance, as soon as he could. He didn’t want to risk anything, even if she didn’t plan to turn him in for breaking one of the Gods of Prime’s laws.

After the gathering, Dream swept from the hall, regally declining any sort of accompaniment from all of his godly friends. He couldn't run through the halls of the citadel without arousing confusion and concern, but he damn sure wished he could. His two mortal friends had spent too much time already being scared for their lives, and he wanted to reassure them as soon as he could.

Before he could enter his chambers, the God of Time intercepted him, stepping out from behind one of the thick, decorative sconces that bordered the door. Dream stopped, reflexively puffing up his feathers and crossing all of his arms. What did Time want now…?

Usually, he and Time were on pretty good terms. They weren't close enough to know each other’s chosen names, but they got along very well. He liked Time, but right now, his behavior was starting to freak Dream out.

"The mortals, you didn't kill them, did you?" Time blurted before Dream could say anything. Dream froze for half a second before forcing himself to look composed. How did he know…? Should he be worried? He didn’t think Time would turn him over to the Gods of Prime over such a small thing as refusing to give him his sacrifices, but…

Dream looked over Time. The other god’s shoulders were pushed out bravely, but his hands were shaking. His multitude of necklaces and pendants jingled with the movement, and his blindfold was still that same sickening shade of greenish-yellow as before. The golden streams of sand that drifted around his body, usually quite smooth and tranquil, seemed more scattered, frantic, even, and were swirling much faster than usual. His face was pale, and he couldn’t seem to stop chewing at his bottom lip.

Dream cocked his head and flared out his secondary wings. "What would make you say that?" His mind was racing, already coming up with possible excuses to toss out at the slightest hint of suspicion. If that didn’t work, he was already mapping out ways to subdue Time, maybe knock him unconscious, and after that…well, the God of Memory still owed him that favor…

"I asked Death, if–if I could have their souls back from her. She said that she didn't have them. So that means you still have them.” The other god blurted, shoulders hitching down just the slightest bit. “That means that they’re still alive…" Time’s chin dipped down briefly, and quickly rose up again. Dream realized with an unsettled jolt that the other god had glanced at his abdomen, where the two mortals currently were.

Dream froze for a moment, then mentally shook himself. He was on equal ground with Time, as they were just about the same in power, so he couldn’t just attack him straight out. He’d either have to bluff his way out of this, or distract Time long enough to catch him unawares.

"What if I do? What does it matter to you?" Dream blustered, straightening up to his full height. The fact that Time was pretty much as tall as he was gave him little pause, but he pushed past it and stared the other god down. “I already told you before, I’m not going to give them to you. They’re mine.”

The God of Time flinched back at the intensity in Dream’s voice, and he seemed internally conflicted. He opened his mouth to say something, blindfold flushing to a pale blue-green, then closed his jaw. The sand around his body fluctuated as his internal debate raged, but finally, he managed to speak.

"I–" Time wavered for a moment longer, then sighed a long, resigned sigh, hands tangling up in his clock chains again. "I know the black-haired one. I–he–. We're good fr-…acquaintances. I don't want him dead." He mumbled, casting his head down and away from Dream.

He perked up suddenly, a fierce hardness solidifying in his aura. The sands around his body condensed into more solid trails, and the color of the cloth around his eyes twisted up into a violent reddish-orange.

"I know I broke the rules, but I don't care. The Prime Gods can stuff it. I’ll even fight you over this, End, I will. Just give them to me, and I’ll leave you alone, okay?” Despite his strong words, his hands were still distinctly trembling. Between Time’s fingers, Dream could feel the unmistakable pressure of the other god’s magic coalescing. He was obviously ready for a fight, even with his visible anxiety.

Dream himself was left speechless at this new revelation. Time knew the black-haired one, knew Sapnap…? He was thrown off-balance by this information, and didn’t know how to react. That, and the fact that Time had basically just insulted the Gods of Prime! He was lucky there was no one else in the corridor. He could be excommunicated for that!

His higher thinking finally kicked up into gear. If Time already knew Sapnap…that meant that Time was in the same boat as Dream was. That meant that he could tell time of his own involvement, and, more importantly, avoid a fight while he still had his fragile mortal friends inside of him.

Dream sagged inwardly at this final thought, and made up his mind. He would, could tell Time, and this whole unfortunate mess would be resolved.

Outwardly, he showed no emotion other than his wings folding down against his back and his feathers smoothing down once more. "Come on, then," he finally said, beckoning the God of Time towards his chamber door. Time faltered, blindfold melting into a strained brown, and a befuddled twist curled over his lips. He didn’t immediately move to follow Dream, so the End God flicked a tertiary wing out and waved him forward again. “We…we have to talk, and I don’t want to do it out here.”

Cautiously, the other god followed him as he pushed open the heavy chamber door and entered his rooms proper. Dream could feel Time’s suspicious yet hopeful gaze on the backs of his wings, but he ignored it for the moment.

Once the varnished door was closed and firmly barred, Dream slumped and let all six of his wings droop down until most of his primary feathers brushed the polished floor. Normally, he wouldn't be one to let the other gods see him be anything but strong and in control, but…well. This wasn't a normal situation. Plus, he and Time were already fairly good acquaintances, so he didn’t much care.

Quietly, he flicked out a wing and cast a privacy ward over the room. No word of the upcoming conversation would ever reach any ears other than the occupants of his chambers.

Time looked at him oddly as he set up another charm to warn if someone was approaching the entrance of Dream’s chambers, but otherwise said not a word. He was waiting for Dream to speak first, it seemed.

"I know them both." Dream finally sighed, making his way to the doorway that led to his, in mortal terms, ‘living room.’ Time made a strangled, surprised noise as he followed Dream into the room. “You–ah–what? You know them?” Out of the corner of his vision, Dream saw Time’s blindfold flush up to a bright, startled yellow, and his sand seemed to poof out in a spastic burst.

“Yeah.” Dream wearily eased himself down onto one of the low-backed burgundy chesterfields surrounding a short, gilded glass table, mindful of jostling his tiny passengers, and gestured for Time to do the same. The other god sank down onto the cushions opposite of Dream, confusion still twisting up on his features.

“I…I hang out with them, in a human form, when I don’t have any duties to attend to.” He started to explain, leaning forward to clasp two of his hands together. “I thought…I thought you just wanted to actually eat them. Sorry.” He gave Time a small, apologetic smile with his still-present mouth, and waited for the other god to reply.

Time stared at him for a long moment, before letting loose a long, heavy breath. He ran a hand through his curled hair and glanced at the baroque-styled ceiling. “Ohhh, thank Prime. Thank Prime. Ohhh, you have no idea how scared I was, that you had actually…actually killed him.” He looked back at Dream, then tilted his head down towards the End God’s abdomen. “So…Sapnap’s okay? Err, they both are?” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “I’ll admit, I don’t know the other one.”

Dream nodded, straightening up a little and glancing down at where the two mortals were. “They’re both fine. I formed a separate, safe pocket of air to hold them in for the time being.” He jolted, then, at a sudden realization that flooded his body with guilt.

“They don’t know that it’s safe!” He blurted, six wings flaring up in alarm. “I…I didn’t tell them.” Time’s lips creased in concern as well, at his words, and he leaned towards Dream. “You can get them out, right? Or at least tell them?”

Dream sucked in a short breath with another nod. “Yeah, but they probably won’t trust my words. I’m gonna let them out.”

Gently, he touched at the area of the faux stomach, readying to push at it and squish its contents up, but paused. He had to prepare himself for whatever confrontation came in the next few seconds. Whatever happened, he knew it was not going to be pretty. Neither human was someone to be trifled with when they were upset.

Finally ready, he dug his fingers into his abdomen, squashing the bottom of the faux stomach flat and forcing the two small bodies up into the tube that connected to his esophagus. They cried out, startled, as Dream’s muscles tugged them upwards towards the outside world.

He closed the flesh up behind them as they rose, no longer needing the faux stomach, and not wanting them to fall back down into it.

They passed up into his throat, and slid into his mouth. One, and then two small weights rested on his tongue once more. He could feel them clinging to one another, the flavor of their desperation and fear absolutely pooling against his taste buds, and it made him feel awful.

He cupped two of his hands together and brought them up to his mouth. Very gently, he opened his jaw and slid the two trembling bodies onto his palms with his tongue. Saliva clung to his skin wherever the two mortals touched, but it was fine. He could clean everything up later.

When he lowered his hands to get a good look at them, George let loose a small cry, scrambling back in his palm and pressing up against the barrier his curled fingers made, while Sapnap lunged in front of the other man, trying to block him from Dream's view.

Dream shot a small, worried glance towards Time, then looked back down at the two soggy mortals he held in his hands. He…He was unsure of what to say, of where to start. Seeing them here, now, in the godly realm, in his hands, it really hit him, how much power he had over them, how truly insignificant they were to the grand scheme of the Prime Gods.

Dream pushed that thought away with a special kind of dislike and settled on apologizing, first and foremost.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I didn't mean to scare you guys.” He apologized, speaking in English, the most common language down in the overworld. The two of them wouldn’t understand the speech of the gods. Time leaned forward, probably trying to catch a glimpse of them, so Dream lowered his hands down even more and waited for the two mortals to say something.

At the sound of his voice, George had frozen. His bi-colored eyes were wide with shock and a large dose of fear, and his lips were slightly parted. Sapnap, meanwhile, jolted out of his frightened stupor and exploded.

“Who the fuck do you think you are–what even are you, you bastard? What kind of jackass decides it’s okay to–to fucking eat somebody?! What’s fucking wrong with you?!” Dream could feel the human’s ire in the form of heat as he snarled forward over his palms, and it was only George’s restraining hand on the fireborn’s bicep that kept him from trying to lunge for something vital on Dream’s immense body. “Fucking—why are we even here?! Let us go, before I shred you into pieces, who the fuck even are you–”

One of Time’s hands was covering his mouth. Dream couldn’t tell if he was shocked at the mortal’s outburst, or amused. From the way Time’s blindfold had shifted to a pale grey-green, he’d say surprised and worried. Dream himself didn’t know what to say, but he didn’t bother trying to shut the mortal up. Once Sapnap got started, there was no stopping him. He’d have to work himself out first, before Dream would be able to get a word in edgewise.

A thought drifted into Dream’s head, and he decided to follow it. If it could get Sapnap to stop ranting…

Without a word, Dream let his godly form start melting away. His wings shivered and sank into his back with the slightest sound of shifting of feathers, eyes of ender popping quietly out of existence, while his two free arms merged into the ones holding George and Sapnap. He let the little jewelry and bangles he wore disperse, as well as the dual halos orbiting his skull, and he even went so far as to change his long, flowing robes into the usual attire he wore in his human form. A cropped, bright green hoodie over a tight black undershirt, and baggy, tan cargo pants. Finally, the markings on his mask changed from an ‘XD” to a simple dot-eyed smiley face.

Despite the immense size his body still held, Dream looked, for all intents and purposes, human. He even used his shoulder to push his mask up to the side, finally allowing him to see the two tiny mortals eye-to-eye.

Sapnap’s rant faltered at the sudden sight before him. “—and…Dream…?” The man’s mouth went slack in shock. George, meanwhile, had tightened his grip on the other man’s arm, and had gone as white as a sheet.

“Hey,” Dream greeted hesitantly, keeping his voice low, only now realizing that speaking at full volume around their weak human ears may be a bad idea.

“What the fuck,” Sapnap hissed, stumbling away the few steps he had taken and pressing his back up against George, who wrapped an arm around Sapnap’s chest and stared agape over the fireborn’s shoulder. Dream could feel both of their heartbeats hike up significantly against his fingertips, and he winced. He didn’t know if that had helped at all, but at least it had gotten Sapnap to stop cussing him out.

“I…” He started, then paused, slowly gathering what he wanted to say. Time had leaned forward so far that he was practically on top of the glass center table so that he could see the two humans, but neither of them had noticed the other god. Their eyes were focused on Dream, and Dream alone. “I guess I have a lot of explaining to do,” he finally mumbled, glancing away to look at Time. The other god met his gaze and gave a small noise of uncertainty, one that Dream definitely felt. What did one say, when you had lied to your best friends about your humanity, and especially when the truth had come out in such a way as this? Dream didn’t know.

At the noise Time had made, George had whipped around and let out a small cry of alarm when he caught sight of the other god, tumbling away to press against the heels of Dream’s palms. He dragged Sapnap with him, who only now caught sight of how close Time was. He let loose his own startled cry and shoved George back behind himself, now facing the God of Time with a violent, apprehensive expression on his face. It made Dream feel a little better, to know that they’d rather have him at their backs instead of Time, who was their current unknown, but he knew it was only because of circumstance. He didn’t know if they’d want to associate with either of them after this.

“Who–who’s that? Who are you?” George demanded, voice shaking. His minuscule fingers tightened in Sapnap’s shirt, and Dream was hit with the distinct desire to bundle them both up against his chest and hide them both away from the world, from everything. This was awful, seeing them so terrified of everything.

“It–it’s me,” Time blurted, directing his gaze at Sapnap. The fireborn’s eyes widened, shock coloring his features once more, and his tiny hands scrambled to grasp at George’s for support.

As if just the sound of his voice wasn’t confirmation enough, Time spoke again, more insistently. “It’s Karl,” he nearly pleaded, leaning back over the table just the slightest bit. His blindfold flared to a bright, hopeful-looking blue, and he bit at his lip nervously.

Dream jolted at the sudden drop of Time’s chosen name, and watched in mild shock as Time's form twisted and wavered until a human body emerged from the shifting sands. His wavy brown hair was the same, though now adorned with thick brass goggles, and now Dream could see his eyes, a warm amber in shade, blindfold gone. The majority of his clocks and pendants were gone as well, only a small golden hourglass with a delicate chain looped around his neck. Instead of deeply violet robes, he had a cropped multicolored hoodie, much like Dream's own green one, with a dark undershirt and simple dark cargo pants. Multiple thick belts were looped around his hips, and a simple brown book bag was strapped over his chest and hanging from his side.

A strangled croaking noise escaped from Sapnap’s throat, and he dropped most of his weight against George as his legs weakened on him. Dream moved a thumb to try and help steady him, but the way both of them flinched back stilled his movement. He retracted his silent offer of support. “What the fuck,” Sapnap whispered once more, reaching up to cover his mouth with a trembling hand. George grunted in concurrence, glancing uncertainly between the looming forms of both Dream and Time–Karl? Was he allowed to call him that? Since he hadn’t expressly given Dream his chosen name? Dream didn’t know.

“What…What are you two?” Sapnap muttered, looking up at the two of them and clutching at the pale arms wrapped around his chest. “Where the…where the hell are we?”

There was a long moment where neither he nor Ti–Karl, he decided, answered. “We’re…gods.” Dream finally stilted, killing the sudden silence that dropped over them all. “We–you’re uh, in the Void. The, the Realm of the Gods. You got…sacrificed.”

Another strangled noise came from them both this time, and Dream could see George’s legs shaking now, as well. Oh, End, how badly did they hate him now? Hate Karl?

“Can you—” George started suddenly, then stopped, swallowing to clear his throat. “Dream. Put us down. Please.” Dream nodded hurriedly, lowering his hands down to the surface of the glass table that Karl was rapidly scrambling off of, and flattened his fingers to allow for a ramp to the clear surface.

The two stumbled off of his hands onto the glass, supporting each other even as they sank down to the ground on account of their shaking legs. They eyed the translucent ground warily, and beyond that, the dark rug covering the smooth stone floor beneath them.

Later, Dream would have to clean the footprint-shaped spit trail from the glass, as well as the puddle where they were sitting, but for now it could wait.

For now, he wiped his saliva-sticky hands off on his pants and decided to apologize to them again.

"S-sorry. For scaring you guys. And–and slapping you so hard George." Dream cringed at the mention of the memory, and George winced. "Are you okay?"

Slowly, the brunette nodded, dual colored eyes glittering in the light of the enchanted sconces lining the room. "It's…it's fine. Just a few bruises, nothing that won't heal quickly."

Though he knew that the mortal was probably lying about the severity of the bruises (he had slammed him down pretty hard) Dream breathed a breath of relief. If George was in severe pain, he'd be tearing into Dream about stupidity and for hurting him.

“Why—why the hell did you eat us?” Sapnap suddenly demanded, sitting up straight and glaring over George's shoulder. "What the fuck was that about?!"

“I…” Dream faltered, glancing up at Karl for help. The other god’s eyes darted between the three of them, and he sucked in a heavy, preparatory breath before speaking. “He thought I wanted you two. To, um, to eat.”

Dream joined in, thoughts gathered enough to know what to say. “I…I thought that I only had three options. Err, keep, keep refusing and have somebody get suspicious and probably report me to the Prime Gods, give you to him,” Dream jerked his head at Karl, “to be, what I thought, actually eaten, or,” he paused again, sucking in a steadying breath. “Or just do it myself, where I knew you’d be safe.”

"It's also tradition," Karl butted in, face twisted in a way that made it seem like he wanted to be anywhere other than there. “Nobody–nobody’s ever rejected a sacrifice. There would be an upheaval if someone did.”

Dream noticed that he didn't mention that humans, especially those that had been sacrificed to the gods, were delicious. It was a tactful move, one that Dream would follow along with. There was no need to make the two mortals hate them both even more.

"It also breaks a lot of rules, one of us interacting with mortals." Dream added. "If the other gods had found out, you both would be dead, and Karl and I would probably lose our positions, or at the very least be cast out of the void."

He noticed Karl glance at him at the use of his chosen name, but he said nothing about it. Dream dipped his head at him, indicating that the other god could use his name as well, if he so chose.

"If it had been someone else, if somebody else had been sacrificed, would—would you have killed them?" George asked.

Dream fell silent and turned his head down. He…He did not want to admit to anything, even if it was true. The dead silence was deafening, other than the sound of Karl nervously shifting on the sofa opposite him.

"Have you–" Sapnap started, then stopped. He was silent for an incredibly long moment, and then said decisively, "Nevermind."

Neither Dream nor Karl needed to ask what his question was. Have you had sacrifices before? Have you killed before?

The answer was obvious. But they weren’t willing to say it.

"So…"George started, clear hesitance coloring his tone. "What's going to happen to us now?"

They were shivering. Dream didn't know if it was from fear, or from the saliva still soaking their clothes and the fact that the room was a little chilled.

"Do you guys–do you wanna wash off, or something…?" Dream ventured, pointing carefully at the slick dampness still dripping from their clothes. The two looked down in disgust, but shook their heads regardless. “Maybe later,” George muttered, reaching down to try and wring out his shirt a little bit. “I don’t know about Sapnap, but I really don’t want to be touched right now.” The by either of you went completely unsaid, but both Dream and Karl could read between the lines.

Sapnap was nodding, and it really, really did hurt, how neither of them seemed to be able to trust the gods, but after what had just been said…Dream didn’t blame them. He couldn’t blame them. He’d be scared, too.

"We'll take you two back to the overworld, then, when you’re ready,” Karl broke the choking quiet by answering George’s previously asked question. He wrung his hands together, biting at his lip as he carefully ventured forth his next words.

"If you ever feel like talking to either of us ever—ever again after this, or–or if you need help, just…just call to the God of Time, or the God of the Overworld, okay?" Karl implored hopefully, leaning forward from the cushions of the chesterfield. "We'll hear you, wherever you are."

"I think…" Sapnap trailed off, bisected orange eyes drifting down to rest on a smudge on the glass table. Dream held his breath, hoping against hope that the fireborn wouldn't reject them outright.

Sapnap looked up, first at Dream, then at Karl, where his gaze lingered. "I think I will. I just…I need time to process. Uh, all of this.” He then turned his eyes to George, who was looking contemplative as he wiped his damp hands on his damp pants. After a long, long beat, he finally glanced up and met Dream’s gaze. A whirlpool of emotions were swimming in his eyes, most indecipherable for the God of the End. What he could see, though, wasn’t promising. Apprehension, wariness, the gleam of calculation, tiny hints of lingering fear…Dream didn’t know if George would ever want to see him again. The human may feel like it was too dangerous, may feel like Dream had betrayed him…Dream wouldn’t argue, if that were the case and George wanted nothing to do with him, but…

Dream would be heartbroken, that was for certain.

“I…I don’t know, Dream.” The brunette finally spoke, turning his eyes away again. “I…you’re a god. How am I supposed to respond to that? You ate me, ate us, what do I say?! I’m going to have nightmares from this whole…everything, and now that I know it was you…” He trailed off, glancing at Dream’s chest, then quickly away. “Maybe in the future, I don’t know, but…not, not right now, okay?”

Dream’s heart pinged painfully at the human’s words, but he wouldn’t let himself be crushed. At least George hadn’t decided to completely cut himself off from Dream? The End God had to hold onto that, and hope that it would keep him afloat.

“Okay,” was all Dream said, even though his brain was screaming at him to plead and beg for George to accept him now, because he was still the same guy he knew, just bigger and more powerful than any mortal could possibly fathom.

A solemn moment imposed itself over them all as the four of them mulled over the events that had transpired. Karl was fairly happy with the outcome. Sapnap would…probably come around, eventually, and it’s not like mortal time would be very long to wait, for a god. As a bonus, he had learned that End, no, Dream, had broken the same rules as he had, and in that, he had found a new kinship with the other god. He did feel bad for Dream, though, because it seemed like his other mortal friend, the brunette, was rejecting him. He hoped that George wouldn’t hate Dream for any of this.

Sapnap was still processing. His…very close friend, Karl, had turned out to be a god, (of either time or of the overworld, he wasn’t sure which) and that scared him, but…he could get over it. Karl was still Karl, after all, no matter how big or scary or powerful. Same with Dream. He would get used to it, he was sure. He was just mostly happy that they weren’t going to die in the gut of some giant deity. Everything else? Piece of cake, a flat breeze. Sapnap could deal.

George…George didn’t want to believe any of this. Dream, his very favorite friend, was a god? Dream, the man who could make him laugh in almost any situation, had eaten him? Had eaten Sapnap? What was George supposed to think? Even if it was for their ‘safety’ or whatever, at least he could’ve given some sign, some warning? George knew that he’d be having night terrors after this awful experience. He’d already had trouble with sleep, but now? Oh, he was so screwed. A small part of him hoped, just maybe, he would be able to force himself to interact with Dream without freaking out, but every time the thought crossed his mind, uncontrollable shivers wracked up his spine, and he felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t think he could do it. He didn’t want to. At least he still had Sapnap. At least they were both alive.

Dream wanted to cry. Or smite something. Maybe he could go fry a pillager outpost after this? Maybe. George…he didn’t think George wanted to be around him after this. He really, really hoped George would come around, but he doubted it. He knew the mortal wouldn’t. George was very, very stubborn, which meant that Dream had just lost him. He tried to cheer himself up by telling himself that he may still have Sapnap, and that he had just gained a closer relationship with Karl, but it didn’t help much, not when it was compared with the loss of George.

His thoughts turned to whose fault this all probably was, and a sudden realization that had a snarl crawling over his face passed through his head. He needed to know, so that he could smite them, for causing all of this mess. That, and the indignant anger over the fact that his two humans had been slated to die.

"Who the fuck had the gall to sacrifice you two?!" He abruptly growled, and Sapnap snorted at the sudden outburst. Soon, they were all cackling uncontrollably, and Dream felt just the littlest bit better about it all. Maybe things wouldn’t turn out so bad…maybe.

(End)

~~~~~~~~~~

So, a while later, like, several months or something, George runs into some trouble, alone at night being attacked by a hoard of mobs, and he’s desperate. His armor is gone, his sword is about to break, and he will die if he can’t think of anything. So, he does the only thing he thinks he can do: he screams for Dream, he calls for the overworld god to help him, please, and then suddenly the mobs are being mowed down, one by one, by a (thankfully human-sized) green clad man. Then there’s a terse, heartfelt moment between the two where Dream says that there isn’t much worth doing without George. A bunch of emotions are laid bare that night, but they reconnect, and grow very much closer to each other. 

Sapnap is elated by the news, as well as Karl.)

Taglist that I fucking forgot o~O

@brick-a-doodle-do @i-am-beckyu

[shadebloopnik]

Actual footage of all my rational thought and carefully thought out comment essay completely burning up in my end when reading the ending of Dancing Over Those Burnt Bridges:

To anyone who hasn't read this series yet, its called Stolen Moments and please read it from the beginning and join this crazy rollercoaster with me bc holy shit its literally so good i love it so much-

[cameoutstruggling93]

I am peopled out and exhausted.

[chemical-processes]

Chapter 6 of Deimos

Summary:

The song she hums is familiar. Lilting and melodic, a lullaby on the edge of his memory. It’s like every moment of his childhood recreated in perfect detail, too clear and full to be a dream. Or: Gotham Memorial Hospital is a powder keg.

[jammy-badger]

'Barely on my mind, barely on my mind

All the fuckin' time, all the fuckin' time...'

[catboynutsack]

Me, standing in front of the white pot between the person that gives crafting levequests and the person that you hand them into in Tuliyollal so I literally can just pick up the same levequest and turn it in over and over without moving bc I was 50 of the item required in my inventory already: mentor status back pls

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Also I've got the PPG movie soundtrack on while doing some laundry and tell me why I'm so ready to make a fucking video essay about how damn good this movie is because NOT ENOUGH PEOPLE TALK ABOUT IT DEAR GOD