#me writing dreams again

[floydig]

Unfinished Friday

Share an unfinished WIP! Thanks @skeptiquewrites 4 tagging me in yours 🥳 My main wip is anon but here’s something else I started working on a month ago. It’s titled Selfish, so I think it was supposed to be about Draco being selfish lol and also some surrealism/dream stuff. It’s been a while since I looked at it. No warnings I can think of.

I’ll tag some people I’ve been sprinting with lately @thesleepiesthufflepuff @basicallyahedgehog @nv-md @tackytigerfic if u got something u want to share id luv to see! but also no pressure im just chillin.

“Harry Potter will solve all my problems,” Draco says. It’s a cold windy Sunday for mid-June, which should be the first sign that something is wrong.

“Why are you talking about me like I’m not here?” Harry asks. He’s sitting at a painting easel in the middle of the forest, wearing checkered boxers and a purple jumper that says, ‘Puddlemore United Nan’ in large blocky letters. The canvas is bare, but there’s red paint splattered all over Harry’s fingers.

“This is my vision, not yours,” Draco says, and the thick mud at his feet creeps up to his ankles.

“Are you sure about that?” Harry asks and presses his thumb to the blank canvas. “This is sort of fun,” he says as he leaves a single red thumbprint on the page. “I’ve never finger painted before.”

“You’ve got a shit definition of fun,” is all Draco can think to say because he’s starting to notice the rain. The rain is red, too.

Harry grits his teeth and punches his fist right through the canvas. It falls to the forest floor. “You know, you really piss me off.”

The gaping hole in the canvas is big enough to jump though. You can’t see what’s on the other side. Draco wrenches his feet out of the mud and dives into the hole head-first.

[solsticat]

around a year ago I had an incredibly realistic dream where I was hiking and stumbled off a cliff. I managed to grab into a ledge, but I was hyper aware that eventually I would lose hold of it and fall to my death. I just sat there holding the ledge for a while thinking about everything I was never able to do, the conversations I never had, and how badly I wanted to live. Eventually I came to terms with my untimely death and accepted that there was nothing I could change, and it wasn't really okay, but it would have to be okay, and I'd had a good life. If nothing else, I was glad for the life I had been able to have. I wanted my last thoughts to be peaceful. I was about ready to let go when my family came along and rescued me. Some other stuff happened after that. Then I woke up and let me tell you I had a Bad Day. How are you even supposed to act normal after that.

[starcurtain]

I think Alhaitham's views on gods and his dynamic with Nahida in particular is probably one of the most underrated comedic elements to come out of Sumeru.

This guy put together an entire crack squad and master plan to rescue a god while being the Genshin equivalent of an atheist. "Yes, obviously archons exist. But so do sharks. Both of those beings have their place in the ecosystem, and if I had to pick one to piss off--"

Like, does he believe in the dendro archon? Yes. But is he going to listen if she denies his paid vacation request? Absolutely not.

Bro is selected by name to come discuss important matters with his nation's deity in her sanctuary, and he's just like, "Oh, I ran into Nilou there once. That was cool."

Raised to the highest possible position available in his nation's government by the deliberate selection of his god? Resigns.

We know that Nahida still calls on Alhaitham when Sumeru is in need of defending from nefarious parties, and sends him out with Wanderer to kick ass and take names. Now that they've forgotten Rukkhadevata and the Akademiya's ploy to imprison Nahida has been foiled, most of the people of Sumeru would be floored by the honor of being called upon personally to aid the great dendro archon. Staggered by the fact that the lord of wisdom herself finds them worthy! But Alhaitham? He just goes home. Kaveh asks him what he was up to all day. "Hm. Nothing of note."

Everyone else, upon receiving the recognition of a god: My life has been changed forever. I will be telling my great grandchildren of the day I received such a blessing!

But for Alhaitham? It was Tuesday.

Criminally underrated comedic potential. CRIMINAL.

[theminecraftbee]

my other favorite slightly-less-stupid technoblade headcanon that i hold to dearly despite the march of fandom is that he is NOT A PIGLIN. he is a PIGMAN. there is a DIFFERENCE. this is entirely based on the fact that, like, okay he's a hypixel and pvp guy, so he basically always played 1.8. so when he got to dsmp and saw the new nether he was like. what the fuck are those. where are the zombie pigmen. those things have weird ears??? those aren't my brothers??? and combined with the fact he frequently would find out something about modern minecraft and go "what the heck when did that happen" i think he's like. one of the last of the original pigmen. the ones that became zombie pigmen before the whole piglin thing happened. he's not a zombie simply because he's built differently. he's sort of trapped in a different era. he's just chillin' though. because he's technoblade and he's built differently.

[deoidesign]

Thinking about vampires, death, life, and the space they occupy in between

[fatedroses]

More than just the Demon.

[mummer]

just saw asteroid city last night, pls explain the proposed significance of the kiss!!

answering this publicly hope thats ok! cant do a readmore im on mobile *****asteroid city spoilers below beware*****

i dont remember anyones names so this is gonna sound partly unhinged. okay so the edward norton playwright and jason schwartzman actor (not character, in the black and white parts) are lovers right. tbh i thought this was kind of a gag and forgot about it. but later we find out that the playwright died 6 months into the production. i didnt make the connection that THAT’s why the actor-jason has to suddenly leave the stage and freaks out backstage about how he’s not sure he’s Doing it right. hes not talking about acting!! because he himself is literally grieving his lover while he’s playing a character who’s grieving his wife written by his lover so obviously it’s too much!!! actor-jason is trying to find meaning in his death through his writing but there isnt any meaning in death [gerris drinkwater voice] which is what the play is trying to say anyway. he doesnt think he’s performing grief right even in his own life!!! (and tbh it’s the 50s so he wouldnt be able to perform grief publicly anyway!!!!) the play starts with a car accident… anyone would search for some hidden meaning there, some sign…. so when he talks to margot robbie outside it’s not really about finding the CHARACTER’s motivations it’s about the actor himself being able to process the playwright’s death! and adrien brody director was probably also dealing with that too (him and norton seemed to be good buddies) so the whole “sleeping backstage” thing gets a bit sadder maybe? maybe everyone else got this in the theatre and im just stupid lol but crazy making stuff to me!!! the whole story is about sublimated gay grief that cannot be expressed?!?!

the tweet that caught me onto this was here which posits that the playwright’s death was a suicide but i think that’s pretty stupid and unnecessary because the whole thing about the play asteroid city is that death is random and meaningless. im pretty sure that’s what the alien represents— a shocking and absurd event that isnt outright evil or menacing, not something anyone can predict or make sense of, it’s just a thing that happens to you out of nowhere, it doesnt mean anything. he’s a little black figure, he’s death! giving and taking! aagh

[blueish-bird]

In the narrow hours of the night I will wake to a downpour; through the window see your trashcans shining. I will swaddle myself in your warmest jacket, put on my big rain boots. I will brave this storm for you.

And when I am cold and wet and beyond porch light's reach, trashcans in tow, I will watch the world past your driveway. I will love the way dark turns form to silhouette, how the sound of my steps drown beneath the rain's big hush. I will want to leave you and your trashcans. To wander the earth as all lost things do.

[valiantstarlights]

[hardly-an-escape]

Stormy Weather, or: Outside, the Wind (Inside, the Light) | Dream/Hob | 1600 words | Rated T

tags: I recently spent an evening without power therefore I must put the blorbos in a Situation, love confessions, first kiss, getting together, power outages, Hob Gadling throughout history, gratuitious use of mildly accurate Middle English

The wind tears around London like a living thing, a wild animal, a predator, intent on the hunt. It chases birds into their nests and people into their homes, moans around corners and rattles shutters, sending piles of leaves whirling into miniature hurricanes and whipping branches into a frenzy, sharpening its claws on roof tiles and telephone poles.

Except in Hob Gadling’s flat.

The New Inn, and the cozy home above it, is in one of those old buildings that’s actually been loved and maintained – thanks in no small part to Hob’s own care and attention. The walls are thick and strong, the roof is solid. The shutters may rattle, but the windows are double-pane; the curtains and carpets are warm and soft, and no drafts encroach on the sanctity of his living room, where Hob and Lord Morpheus, King of Dreams, are having a movie night.

It’s part of Hob’s concerted effort to introduce the Prince of Stories to the stories he’d missed during his imprisonment. Tonight it’s Blade Runner – the final cut, of course – which isn’t necessarily one of Hob’s personal favorites, but seemed to fit the stormy, rainy vibes of the weather. They’re installed on the couch, with hot chocolate and wine and snacks, which Dream has deigned to pick at. Harrison Ford is eating noodles and wandering through wet, moodily-lit streets. The wind is howling outside, but they’re safe and warm and surrounded by soft things and life is about as good, Hob thinks, as it ever gets these days.

And then his lights flicker. Once, twice; there is the impression of a sort of electrical last gasp, and the room is plunged into darkness.

The wind whips and the shutters rattle. A volley of rain spits itself against the windows.

“Bugger,” says Hob.

Dream says nothing, merely brings his wineglass – which had already been cradled in one elegant hand – to his lips.

“Hang on,” says Hob. “I’ve got some candles around here somewhere.”

He gropes his way to the kitchen. In one drawer he unearths some beeswax tapers and several tea lights, which he arranges on a plate. He rummages in one of the deeper cabinets and makes a triumphant noise as he discovers his prize behind disused mugs and a fondue set from the 1980s: a pair of old-fashioned brass candlesticks equipped with round reflectors, highly polished to catch the light and bounce it back out into the darkness.

“You are remarkably well-prepared for an event such as this,” says Dream, as Hob lights his various prizes and returns to the living room with his hands full of flickering flames.

“Well, you know,” Hob demurs. “When it comes down to it, I’ve lived a lot more of my life without electricity than with it.” He arranges the tea lights on the coffee table and sets the brass candlesticks on a nearby bookshelf. “You never really get out of the habit of preparing for the worst. Although I will say, these beeswax ones beat the hell out of the old tallow jobbies we had when I was young. Got ‘em from a local bloke who keeps bees not half a mile away, isn’t that cool? A beekeeper in the middle of London. There, now,” he says, and having arranged the lights to his satisfaction he plops himself back down on the sofa.

Outside, the wind wails. The lack of lamps on the empty street below and the gentle candlelight within make the night seem even darker, and turn Hob’s living room into something even softer and cozier than it already is.

Dream’s face, in the flickering candles, seems even more otherworldly than usual; and Hob, for his part, truly looks as though he belongs in another century. The very shape of his face has changed, somehow, into something older; taking on a new appearance in the candlelight the way a man’s tongue might curl differently around the syllables of another language.

“I miss it, sometimes,” he says lowly. “This kind of world. Before the wires and the phones and the cars. It was… quieter.”

“You speak often of your delight in change and progress. Do you truly long for your past lives?” asks Dream.

“Yes and no,” answers Hob. “Some things are better now, no question. Antibiotics, wouldn’t want to live without those again. Vaccines and X-rays and chemotherapy and antidepressants – almost all the medical stuff. Mass transportation. Cars and planes have never been safer. Honestly, I’ve never understood the people who moan about the olden days and oh, life was simpler back then. Don’t they know how many people died? How many kids? Because they caught a cold or fell out of a tree or had a case of the runs that lasted a little too long?”

He leans forward to adjust one of the candles, which is dripping unevenly, and when he sags back into the couch there is just the hint of a frown between his strong brows.

“And yet…” he says, staring into the flames, voice quiet. “Nights like this. I do sometimes think…”

Hob trails off for a long moment.

“There was a rhythm to life, back then,” he says finally. “You counted hours by the church bells and days by the tasks that needed done. And there was so much that needed to be done… cows milked and fields planted and clothes knitted or mended. And it was all so important, so… necessary. Regimented. But in the in between time – Christ! your time wast thine.” As he speaks, his voice has slipped into an older register: his Rs grown rounder, his vowels longer, curling from his mouth to mingle with the candlesmoke hovering over his coffee table. “I remember fair hours as a lad, even into my manhood, of which I spent lyende in th’ fields, watching ants in th’ grass. And later, too, we’d hie us to bed with the sonne, the fire banked in the hearth. An’ it happen that if we awakened before dawn, ’twas a simple thing to pass the time in simple ways, be it in prayer or in pleasure…”

The innuendo in his words is clear, but Hob is not looking at Dream; his eyes are unfocused as he stares into the middle distance, revisiting the past via candlelight. Until one of the wicks lets out a small pop, and flares, and he shakes himself, coming back to the present.

“God, sorry,” he says, voice back in the 21st century. “Woolgathering. I’ll go on for an age, me. More wine?”

But Dream’s eyes have also gone unfocused, his lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling with unnecessary breaths as he stares – no, gazes – at Hob. He, too, must shake himself into the present moment at Hob’s offer of more wine. He silently holds out his glass.

“May I ask you a personal question?” Dream says.

“Anything. You know that.”

Dream pauses. Sips. Outside, the sound of the wind has not abated; has grown, if anything, even more dramatic. There is the muffled sound of branches scraping against the side of the building.

“Why,” asks Dream finally, “do you pretend to yourself that you do not want me?”

Hob chokes. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Why do you pretend thus to me?” Dream pursues. “Who has known you longer than any being on this planet or any other; who can know your innermost dreams?”

“What do you mean, other planets?” Hob demands. And then: “Have you been peeking at my dreams?”

“I need not peek, as you put it, to see the truth of the matter. It is writ plain on your face and in your every word and deed. I merely wonder why this truth has hovered before us for over six hundred years and you have yet to press your suit. Do you doubt, after all this time, my affection for you? Do you find me – unworthy?”

Dream sounds, impossibly, almost uncertain. Even vulnerable. Hob sighs heavily and leans forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands.

“I – God. Dream,” he stammers. “Yes, Christ, I am full of doubts. You stormed away from me when I implied you might be lonely, I… I have never, once, thought I had a suit to press at all. What on earth has brought this on? Now, of all times?”

“I do not know,” Dream murmurs. “Perhaps… this darkness is working on me, as well. Perhaps I am as susceptible to candlelight and nostalgia as the next anthropomorphic personification.”

He smiles, a little quirk of the mouth that contains worlds, and Hob leans over, listing helplessly into Dream’s space as the tapers flicker.

“Fuck,” he whispers, pressing their foreheads together, turning his head to butt his cheekbone against the sharp line of Dream’s nose. “Art thou rēal? Speak you treue?”

“Aye, my Hob,” answers Dream. “Min herte is treue and bilongeth to you.”

A sob catches in the back of Hob’s throat at the words. “Fuck,” he whispers again, “Dream, I’m yours. I am. I always have been. My Dream, min sweven, my leof. Alwei, allesweis…”

Their mouths find each other, then, finally, lip against lip and breath against breath. They kiss for a long, long moment, desperate and hungry and soft all at once, as outside the wind howls coldly around the corners of the New Inn, and inside the light cast by Hob’s candles bathes their whole little world in a cozy glow.

“Take me to bed,” murmurs Dream against Hob’s mouth. “Make me your lover. Show me how you pass the time by candlelight, and in darkness.”

“Oh, darling. Dearheart,” Hob answers. “Nothing in this world or any world past could make me happier.”

And he suits his actions to his words.

[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

[hestzhyen]

Already Waist-Deep

Hi internet void. Please allow me to kagura my bachi all over the place for a little bit. I've got a bad case of the brain worms about these boys that I haven't even had together for 20 chapters yet, so let me ramble a little bit about why they're already so compelling as not only a duo, but a ship.

First off, a caveat. Kagurabachi is a Weekly Shounen Jump (WSJ) action series. That means that if romance is ever addressed in the series itself, the protagonist is going to end up with a girl. Doesn't matter how underdeveloped or lackluster his relationship to her is, or how flat she is as a character. Invest lightly and come along for the ride without any expectations of m/m ships becoming canon. (That said, it might not be the worst thing in the world for our MC to end up with a girl in this case- more on that later.)

Second, I don't really ship that often. Not seriously at least. I need more than two guys being close with each other to start wanting them to be a pair, y'know? So I hope you understand the intensity of the material Hokazono-sensei has been giving us the past few chapters. I am on the brink of going all-in on HakuHiro/ChihiHaku in less than 20 chapters, it's that insane.

Third, I will be talking about current developments without marking potential spoilers. There are only 38 chapters out as of writing this, but there are at least two reveals that would be better appreciated going in blind. Spoilers for the oneshot Farewell! Cherry Boy are also a thing near the end.

Okay? Okay. Let's begin.

Who's Involved? First up is our protagonist Chihiro Rokuhira, an 18 year old boy and the son of a famous swordsmith. He was raised with genuine love and care by his father (no idea what happened to his mom yet), taking care of their day-to-day life while learning his father's trade. And from the very first chapter he is steeped in tragedy as he witnesses his father's murder and life's work being stolen. He then sets out on the long, fraught road of vengeance.

Sounds grim and not exactly compelling, right? Especially when this scene from the first chapter was making the rounds being memed to death:

But there's much more to Chihiro than meets the eye. Flashbacks to his time growing up show him being a natural caretaker to his dad and their fish- cooking meals, keeping his dad on task, and so on. We see glimpses of underlying tenderness when he meets and rescues Char, a sweet little girl with her own tragic past. And we get some insight that he might not be quite as resolute as he's projecting himself to be when he faces off against Sojo, a fan of his father who worships a much different version of the man than Chihiro knew. And now the Rakuzaichi arc has definitively shown us that Chihiro isn't as collected as he seems. One of his father's killers easily cracks the mask and shows us Chihiro is really just a desperate kid with a heaping helping of trauma, then Tenri's pointless sacrifice shakes him to his core. But despite it all he's still doing determinator things in the most badass way possible. Chihiro has layers, man. A lot of them. And the best way to understand our protagonist right now is through his foil: Hakuri Sazanami.

Who is Hakuri? A 17 year old boy with a special lineage, but he's a loser who needs to be saved from common thugs. A pathetic guy who latches on to Chihiro and doesn't take the hint when Chihiro literally runs away to ditch him. An utter failure to his family. A lost puppy looking for a samurai.

Hakuri Sazanami is one of the best goddamn foils I've seen in shounen manga yet.

Let me tell you all the ways I love the writing around this kid and Chihiro because MAN I can't even contain all these feels.

What's Going On? From the start, Hakuri looks like he's just another person for Chihiro to bail out. He witnesses Chihiro's awesomeness fighting Sojo in the streets and decides to imitate it by standing up for a little girl being kidnapped. Instead of winning out, though, he's captured and kicked around. Once he's coincidentally rescued by Chihiro he's immediately all-in on tagging along and keeping Chihiro in his life. Look at this pitiful guy:

Chihiro decides to hear him out due to his connection to the Sazanamis, the Big Bads of the arc. He's initially put off by Hakuri's intensity but brings him along anyway, as Hakuri's insider information regarding the Sazanami family makes him useful. Then, as Chihiro wavers under Hiyuki's assault, Hakuri is truly useful for the first time:

And it only gets better from here. We see Hakuri hanging off Chihiro's every word trying to be as useful as possible for his samurai, striving to do anything he can, though it ends up with him forcing Chihiro to give up his precious sword Enten in exchange for his life. (Yes, Chihiro "buys" Hakuri from Hakuri's own family.)

Later on during the invasion of the auction is where things go into overdrive though. We see their character arcs start to invert and shape each other's as the action unfolds and Hakuri's own tragic past comes to light, eventually awakening him to his special abilities. Chihiro's bravery and strength help him pull this off and finally defeat the older brother that tortured him in the name of "love". Hakuri ascends to being the strongest Sazanami since the progenitor that started their line centuries ago. He's the Special Boy!

All this to say that Hakuri Sazanami isn't just a deuteragonist or a foil…

He's the goddamn heroine.

Kagurabachi's Built Different What makes a shounen series heroine? Firstly, they support the main character without getting involved in most of the heavy fighting. A shounen heroine will usually at most have a fight against another girl while the Big Event is happening nearby, making sure the main character has the spotlight. Second, most of the value they bring to the protagonist's story is emotional. They encourage him, validate him, provide a bit of a refuge for him to safely let his guard down. They can get him to express softer emotions that he wouldn't normally show around others. Third… they're the love interest. Hinata, Orihime, Chichi, and now… Hakuri? Really?

We know the third one will not happen for HakuHiro in canon. But what about the first two? Well, let's recap what Hakuri has done for Chihiro so far.

Hakuri can defend himself now, but his most useful ability is access to an interdimensional storehouse. Given the way that his magic works -he needs to prioritize maintaining the storehouse or using Isou- he'll likely be the means of keeping the enchanted blades safe rather than a front-line fighter. Support-centric character that will still get some combat time against lesser opponents: check.

Hakuri's given Chihiro some much-needed direct emotional validation that he hasn't gotten from anyone else yet. ("You saved me." … "That katana suits you.") Hakuri's words fortify his resolve and Chihiro later pays it back by trading Enten, an incalculably precious sword and memento of his father, for Hakuri's life. He even uses the same phrase when asked why he'd do that for someone as worthless as Hakuri ("That guy… saved me."). He later reaffirms that Hakuri's encouragement gave him the courage to let go of Enten in the first place:

This is AFTER we see Chihiro open up to him for the first time just minutes after they met:

Chihiro's been a stoic good guy with buried trauma up until this point. But somehow Hakuri is the first person he outright admits his fears to- not Shiba, not Hinao, but the freaky kid he just rescued. Emotional support pillar: check.

"Well that's not enough!" you say. "That's just taking some moments and doing that thing you said you didn't do- smushing boys together just because they're close!" OK but look at how Hakuri thinks about Chihiro:

Chihiro has been his inspiration from the first time he saw him. It can be read as admiration and hero worship, but doesn't that feel like selling Hakuri's feelings short when remembering how devoted he's been since they first met?

And just look at Hakuri's face here, he's beaming when Chihiro busts in to save him just like he believed he would:

Mostly, though, Chihiro is the one who gives Hakuri strength in the moment. The Ice Woman broke him free of his family's mentality, and now Chihiro gives Hakuri what he needs most: hope. Something he never had before, which doomed his relationship to the Ice Woman; he couldn't prove to her that there was more to life than despair because that was all he knew… but that completely changed once he met his samurai.

And that's been their thing through this arc. Each one is giving the other the vital thing they needed to grow and keep going. When Hakuri was struggling at the start, Chihiro was his guiding light towards a better future. And when Chihiro struggled in the aftermath of Tenri's cruel death, Hakuri pulled him along so they could finish the job. They're in perfect sync now as they take down the Rakuzaichi. Don't just take my word for it, check out Hokazono-sensei's color page for the most recent chapter (38): https://twitter.com/KaguraShiba/status/1804898273859445181 From Hella (KaguraShiba): >Kagurabachi Ch 38 JP Color Page 「阿吽の呼吸で薙ぎ払え」 "Two people dancing to the same beat, mowing down enemies" >阿吽の呼吸/"Aun no Kokyuu" Synchronized breathing >Or when people are the most in tune with each other >阿吽の呼吸/"Aun no Kokyuu" Is a Buddhist expression in Japanese meaning something close to "harmonizing in sync together" >"Aun" is also used to indicate an "Aun relationship", indicating an inherently harmonious relationship or nonverbal communication Yeesh. But holy shit it's paying off. In chapter 38 these boys are already in harmony- Hakuri registers Chihiro into his storehouse (yes they both "own" each other now) and sends him in to fight his father. During the fight, Chihiro trusts Hakuri to interpret his intent and it works. Chihiro wordlessly tags a bunch of grenades with his spirit energy and Hakuri pulls them out into the real world to bomb the shit out of the Rakuzaichi audience. They didn't plan this beforehand- they had no idea Kyoura had fucking grenades laying around in there. But they're close enough to understand each other's thoughts already. Peak soulmate material right there!

What's got me most interested now, though, is how they will pull/push each other after this arc. Chihiro's going to be focused more than ever on tracking down his father's killer and the swords. But Hakuri, well… I think it would be very interesting if he starts to become a despair monster. A reflection of Chihiro's state at the very start of the manga where nothing mattered to him except exacting revenge. We're seeing shades of this in the most recent chapter (38) where he's slumped over and obviously depressed about how all this is turning out. He's going to end his family's cruel trade but at what cost to himself? Will Chihiro see some of himself in Hakuri and be able to help him out, or at least promise to find relief from the pain together? Obviously a Bad End where Hakuri takes himself out is in the cards given Hokazono-sensei's previous works but… on a meta level, I think his storehouse ability will keep him relevant. I mean yeah he could be used to slap Chihiro across the face by showing what a bad end for his revenge story could look like but I think (hope) that won't happen. [Note to future self: I give you permission to go batshit insane if Chihiro stops Hakuri from committing sudoku.]

And this is where my brain worms are coming from. In just under 20 chapters we have an extremely strong set up between them- so much room for them to teach each other; push to grow and pull back from the brink when tragedy strikes again.

But where's the real meat, you ask? The actual literary analysis in this gushing rant about how much I love these boys I barely know? Well, fine. Buckle up because it's time for some…

Daddy Issues The Rakuzaichi arc really digs into comparing Chihiro's affection for his dad to the Sazanami family structure. And I gotta talk about this because it's the key aspect that makes Hakuri such a brilliant foil.

First off, the similarities. Chihiro and the Sazanami kids are all intensely devoted to their fathers. All of them were raised with love while learning the intricacies of their family trade. We see the Sazanami kids getting praised for doing well, just like Chihiro. Hakuri and Tenri were even told they were special. During the arc, the Sazanami kids put their lives on the line to defend their dad and family legacy with zeal matched by Chihiro's intensity to avenge his dad. When he falls, Tenri's final words are apologizing to his father.

It's truly heartbreaking that Kyora never really loved them back.

You see, the Sazanamis are one of those families that put their lineage and craft over everything else. Every member of the family lives for ensuring the Rakuzaichi auction goes off without a hitch. One of the clan is chosen to inherit the storehouse, and the rest are trained to defend it to the death. Kyoura, the current patriarch, has no compunctions about letting his son Tenri die just to delay Chihiro and the gang for a few more minutes. He had his kids put their lives on the line to defend a storehouse door that he had already broken in secret- making it completely useless. And he's equally cold when it comes to children who can't perform to standards like Hakuri. Once Hakuri (apparently) fails to manifest an ability for sorcery, Kyoura turns a willfully blind eye to the abuse his kid starts to suffer. He knowingly lets Hakuri be tortured by his older brother for years and does nothing, then disowns him once some "merchandise" kills herself in front of him. There's no love for children who can't be useful to the family's traditions. And yet any love that does exist between father and child is manipulated as seen here:

What the fuck man.

So Hakuri is going into this arc firm in his conviction to end his family's evil ways. He's been abused physically and emotionally for at least five years straight; he knows his father doesn't love him. But even now when he's about to bring the whole place down with Chihiro, he's still yearning for his dad's praise. Hakuri's family is fucked up bad and he needs a hell of a lot of healing after all is said and done.

Meanwhile, every flashback with Chihiro shows us that he was truly loved and cared for like every kid deserves. His dad wasn't perfect but he was exactly what a parent should be- kind, understanding, and supportive. His goofy advice helps Chihiro to this day. Chihiro and his dad had a genuine father-son bond that was broken by tragedy and thus Chihiro's desire to do right by his father's memory is driven by grief, first and foremost. So when we see his expression after Tenri's death, we know why he's so badly shaken. They clashed out of love and duty for their fathers, supposedly prepared to pay the ultimate price. The Sazanami version of "love" is a very different, much less wholesome version than the kind Chihiro knows… yet no less effective in terms of motivation.

You can practically hear his heart breaking for Tenri. And his inner thoughts in the next chapter say it all: he was naive to think he could enact revenge while holding fast to the kindness he grew up with. Chihiro's kindness that he learned from his father is a liability to him in this situation. In contrast, Hakuri knew from the start that he had to finally give up the last of his familial affection. He hardened his heart and steeled his resolve to do whatever it took.

Both Chihiro and Hakuri knew what it was like to be loved. Hakuri's version might have been twisted, but it was still painful to have that bond suddenly broken. And now we've seen Edgy Revenge Man's inner softness hold him back while Silly Soft Guy has a heart colder than the arctic. I go absolutely feral comparing and contrasting their situation and how their positions have reversed. Yeah, Chihiro's going to be the action guy who saves the day but Hakuri's the reason he can do it. Hakuri's surprisingly strong core has pushed Chihiro to put his feelings aside to get things done. I can't fucking wait to see how this arc ends and where these boys end up. What will the the most important thing Chihiro takes away from Hakuri here? I hope it leads him to be a bit more openly compassionate and soft around his allies- Hakuri's situation being a lesson in not letting your family's bonds overtake everything else. For Hakuri, well… I think being around Chihiro, Char, and the rest will help him heal. But I hope it's Chihiro that keeps him stable as the person that can relate to him best.

Meta Ramblings Whew. Now then… Yo dumbass writing this, we're not even 40 chapters in yet. Don't you think it's a bit too soon to start getting hyped for a character that could be shelved as soon as the arc is done?

It's interesting to see the themes and characters Hokazono-sensei's reused in Kagurabachi. From the four one-shots available to read, it seems like he's is interested in writing about characters encountering tragedy through various kinds of love. I think it's intriguing that three out of the four end in despair, and the one that doesn't still involves a fair bit of sadness. It's a bit early to say about Hakuri's circumstances since this is only the second proper arc in the series, but given Hokazono-sensei's past works, I think Hakuri is here to stay. For one, Hokazono-sensei seems to love his color-coded foils (Chain, Enten, Roku no Meiyaku). Farewell! Cherry Boy also explores the circumstances of a blindly loyal boy who feels useless being given his first chance to prove himself… I think this is a theme that Hokazono-sensei is revisiting in a more in-depth fashion with Hakuri, so there's a good chance there's more planned.

And just for fun, if we want to look at his romance stories… Madogiwa de Amu is all about one person being the other's greatest hope, their reason to persevere in the face of hardship and seeing that reciprocated in turn. Complete with the weaker person becoming strong enough to protect the person who inspired them first. Hmm. (Hopefully it doesn't end the same way though 'cause man, I can see Hakuri doing something similar right now…) It's also not impossible for Kagurabachi to touch on love given we see Farewell! Cherry Boy incorporating love as the crux of the narrative, despite starting as a gangster story. The true MC is quite like Chihiro as well in terms of motivation and action plan.

I also think it's impossible to overstate how important it is for Chihiro to have a friendly peer to compare to, narratively speaking. Char is a woobie, Shiba's an uncle figure, and Hiyuki is set up to be the aggro rival/frenemy. Hinao could become more than a side character but it seems unlikely at this time. Chihiro needs someone his own age to just be himself with. And that, I am 99% sure, will be Hakuri. A guy who's suffered just as much as he has. Someone who knows what it's like to have a famous last name and lineage to protect. An equal who's unquestionably on his side, who will lift him up when he's down, yet will still need some protection and care. So yes I think Hakuri will be sticking around to be Chihiro's foil. He might take a back seat at times as heroines do, but he'll still be there to support our sad boi through thick and thin.

Anyway that's why I'm ready to jump feet-first into this ship. It's got all the hallmarks of a wonderfully strong bond and I hope we get to see these boys comforting each other for years to come. If you read all this… thank you? Maybe get yourself checked for brain worms? And tell everyone you know to read this amazing action-packed tragedy laced with BL crack cocaine.

[raineandsky]

heyyyy i love your work! could you write about a hero who is given to villain as a gift from supervillain, and although villain is excited his enemy is in his possession at first, he starts to notice the hero is oddly withdrawn. by the time he realizes the hero’s been practically tortured (nothing graphic) by supervillain, he finds himself trying to clean the hero’s wounds. despite his hatred for the other, whatever supervillain did was a step too far. thank you! have a good day 🍀

i hope you have a good day too! thank you for the request as always :)

tw: implied torture/abuse, injury

“Well, I thought [Supervillain] catching you was funny,” the villain says slowly, “but this…”

There’s no words for whatever this is. Old bruises, dried blood. More wounds than the villain dares to count.

Maybe the supervillain’s use of the word ‘catch’ was underselling their part in the hero’s journey here.

The villain had noticed the uncharacteristic quietness, sure, the lack of sharp edges. He’d thought it might be a bruised ego. He thought being gifted the hero meant he got the hero, and not this empty husk that looks like him.

It all makes painful, unfortunate sense.

The villain unties the binds from the hero’s wrists. The hero doesn’t move. “You… you realise you’re not tied down, [Hero],” the villain tries after a second.

The hero glances down at the red raw lines biting his skin. “Yeah.”

The villain stares at him for a long moment. “Okay,” he says shortly. “On your feet.”

The hero lets the villain push him in an awkward shuffle into the bathroom. He watches as the villain rummages through his cupboard, pulls a box down, continues rummaging through that.

“Sit down,” the villain says shortly. “In the bath.”

The hero does as he’s told—a new characteristic, the villain notes—and slumps down in the bathtub. The villain manages to finally wrestle a first aid kit from the box.

“I’ll need you to take your shirt off, okay?” the villain says slowly.

The hero’s expression turns from blank to distressed in a second. “No, I—“

“It’s okay,” the villain cuts in quickly. “I won’t hurt you. I just need to see.”

Eventually, with a bit of gentle pushing, the hero lets the villain tug him out of his shirt. The villain had fully intended to keep his face straight, but he can’t help the gasp of disgust slipping out.

The blood and bruises he saw before are nothing to this. Red tears at every part of the hero’s skin. The villain doesn’t want to look, but if he wants to help he has to face what the supervillain has done.

A small washcloth gets run under the tap, the hero watching distractedly as water seeps into the fabric. The villain carefully sits on the edge of the bath, washcloth wielded in his hand like a shield. “I’m just going to get the worst of it off, [Hero],” he says slowly. The hero glances up at him blankly. “It might sting, but it’s not on purpose, okay?”

This is far from okay, it seems. The hero flinches and fights back tears every time the villain so much as touches him. The villain tries to soothe him as he goes, but he feels a bit like he’s trying to calm a wild animal and that feels unfair on the hero.

The hero looks awful without the blood to cover the worst of it. Bandages are cut and wrapped quickly. The hero sits silently, staring at a spot of scum on the bath in front of him, trembling slightly under the villain’s hands. It’s too much. The villain feels sick.

He has to help the hero out of the bathtub. The man looks like a mummy with how much bandaging the villain has thrown at him, but it should hopefully keep the worst of the damage at bay.

It’s strange, helping his worst enemy in his own home. He hates the hero, despises everything he stands for. But what happened to the word vigilante? What happened to trying to spread the kindnesses the agency refused to afford? The supervillain has gone too far. This is unforgivable.

The villain only has one bedroom in his little house. He offers the hero one of his shirts and sets him in the one bed he has. The hero, from the nervous glancing about and wringing hands, doesn’t like it.

“What—” The words catch on nothing. He clears his throat quickly. “What’s the catch?”

The villain stares at him blankly for a moment. Jesus Christ. “There’s no catch,” he manages after a moment. “I’m trying to help you get better.”

The hero looks more horrified by this. “Why?”

“So you don’t die? I’m not a monster, [Hero].”

The hero’s face scrunches up like he’s going to cry. “O—Okay…”

The villain steers him under the covers as he snivels and breathes in shuddering breaths.

“Some sleep will help,” the villain offers from the doorway. “If it helps, you can lock the door from the inside.”

He taps the chunky lock on the handle, and the hero nods. With a quick, slightly awkward goodnight, the villain lets himself out, and a few seconds later he hears the clunk of the lock turning on the door.

He flops down on the sofa with a sigh. He wasn’t intending to sleep here tonight, but the supervillain’s never been one to respect other people’s plans. It’s hard, dipping in places with use, the cushions paper thin from years of sitting on them.

The villain has always hated the agency. He certainly hates the hero. But laying on his uncomfortable sofa, his own bedroom occupied by an injured, traumatised hero, he kind of feels like he hates the supervillain more.

[banancrumbs]

Dream remembered Death’s words in experiencing a bit of human life, so he just decided to stay like a wet cat after getting caught in the rain with Hob

what happened after this art!

[undead-moth]

I know I've been on about this for a while now and I'm being a hater but you're telling me SydCarmy was "always meant to be platonic" even though there are two seasons of writing making use of tried-and-true explicitly romantic tropes, themes and writing signals, and SydLuca is going to be romantic because...he was nice to her on screen for a few minutes?

I don't even care if people ship SydLuca, or if they just prefer it, but you can't honestly tell me that you believe Carmy was always meant to be a friend but Luca is an obvious love interest.

Just because Syd and Carmy haven't kissed or confessed their love to each other doesn't mean that isn't very obviously the direction this show is going. The Bear has already shown you who is endgame. It has shown you every episode of the show so far.

Honestly I really don't think The Bear fanbase understands this show or cares about these characters or the story being told here, which is unfortunate because this show is shockingly well-written in comparison to most shows right now, and we should be so grateful for it but all we're doing is complaining that the writers led us on by not making a ship canon fast enough. It's just. Sad.

[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...