#multiversal therapy
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shadowjokerao3 · 2 years ago
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The multiverse just got a lot more crowded… and chaotic.
I know I said I was done with the multiverse but I honestly couldn’t stop from making this. After 3 days the multiverse has expanded, many of these AU mikes being made between me and two very good friends of mine (will be in the tags below). In total there are 16 mikes here for shenanigans. Below this will be close ups of the groups they were drawn in with their name tags/nicknames and proper tags with who created them. Any mentioned stories can be found on AO3 as well.
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First up are the plushies!
Plush (left) was created by @driftingvoid-155 (Void) and can be found in their story “Perfect Size for Hugging”
Plush Mike (right) is owned by @kiramorganpotatoqueen
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Next up is the Mikes with the ability to swing in some way.
Mike Pines is owned by @soniccrazygal and can be first found in their story “Friends, Family, and Frights”
Wires is a Tokyo Ghoul Half Ghoul AU and was created by me, Void and @panaramic-art (Sean) with the story “Remnant and Blood of a Ghoulish Kind”
Ash is a Percy Jackson Half Blood AU created by Sean
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Next is the bot boys! Mikes trapped in a suit of some kind!
All the way on the left is Rockstar Lolbit made by @inkspottie with the story “Laughing at Tragedy”
Next is the lovely Trap, a Mike stuck within Spring Bonnie, created by Sean. Can be found in “Spring(Lock) and Key”
And finally is Fox, Mike stuck within an unused spring lock suit, created by me who can be found in “Caught to the Bone, the Rise of FoxTrap”
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Next we have the zombie boys!
We have Zom on the left created by Sean and can be found in the story “15 Year Old Zombie”
Vic is a zombie were-fox based in the Victorian era created by me and Sean. Their story can be found in “Franken-Fox”
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Ok there’s not real connection with these 3 but they are still together.
Endy is an AU based on if Mike never possessed his corpse and instead became part of Ennard (baby gets ejected eventually) and then use an illusion disc to hide their form. Created by Sean and Void
Of course Glam Mike is from the comic Into The Pit by @pixlokita (yes I keep using the Halloween costume I really like it don’t at me)
Luster is a darker take on the wizard of oz, created by me and Sean. Can be found in the story “Soulless in Oz”
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Finally, to round out the last of the mikes is these 3.
Clicker is a Mike based off the Last of Us (tv show specifically) created by Me, Void, and Sean.
Foxtrot is a serial killer Mike AU created by Void and can be found in “It Runs in the Family”
And last but not least is Petals, a mutated Hanahaki Disease AU created by me and can be found in “Lungs Suffocated by Lilies”
I hope you all like it this took so much time to make *~*
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bunnyshideawayy · 9 months ago
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i love how SJM is like “you know what cures trauma and depression? idk me either, try fucking your personal trainer.” and that is the plot of ACOMAF onward.
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intotheelliwoods · 1 year ago
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Why yes I have thought about the sad implications this can mean for the Peepaw multiverse. Why no, no I do not think I will draw those horrors (for now...) but here you go. Take some sillies instead <3
Want to see what happens when they wander around the multiverse? Check out the #hug saga tag!
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beeceit · 2 years ago
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"every f!leo hates their little leo" is a misconception. MNMC Leon who said he wouldn't care if Leo died (BLUFFING) is a statistical outlier and shouldn't have been counted
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xoxoxed · 3 months ago
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bad sanses group therapy
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group therapy session (sci is the therapist)
((I know I did not include cross or error, but truthfully if I had to draw six people I think I would’ve cried))
Make up scenarios for the group therapy I think it’s fun!!
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dandelion-blues · 3 months ago
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#9 What if...
Harumi took Lloyd's destiny, but Destiny didn't like that?
A LEGO Ninjago fanfic
Destiny holds its threads in a tight embrace. Weaving more colors into its grand tapestry while cutting frail strands mercilessly.
But even the dead strands remain, tucked into the corners of the weave because Destiny will never let go of its strings.
Even the smallest, least favored thread has its place. But don't fool yourself into thinking Destiny doesn't play favorites. 
Destiny will always have its favorites after all.
Often people fool themselves into thinking Destiny favors them. Thinking they can demand destiny to let their wildest wishes come true.
Oh, how Destiny laughs at them. So foolish to think Destiny would possibly favor them!
Those who are favored by Destiny always know even if they wish to ignore the truth. 
Destiny favors those destined for greatness. Even if greatness means anguish.
People, of course, then blame Destiny for their subpar lives, and their deaths. 
Foolish they are to think Destiny would care. For all Destiny is possessive, as everything they live is theirs, so too are their deaths.
[Lest Destruction take them, but that’s off topic for today]
Destiny is but a guiding force. A gentle or iron hand is up to the individual.
People may think their paths are set in stone, but no. Their paths are set in pencil, and one's will marks their way in pen.
But Destiny never believed in equal lives and equal struggles. That would make their loom oh so boring, you see.
For gold will always be gold.
And you will always be less.
Still, you have the free will to think you can amount to more.
The will to live.
The will to act.
That is all up to you, my dear.
Oh, you think you're so special to be a favored of Destiny’s?
You truly believe you can mess with its tapestry so brazenly, and It will sit back?
Ha, Destiny will tear you apart my dear.
Power is always so enticing. A taste of the poison that has you addicted without a cure.
*Sigh* I guess you’ll have to learn the hard way.
You’ll learn how Destiny is something you’re born into.
No matter how much you strive and hunger, you will never be any better than the sewer rat in Destiny’s eyes.
You’ll never be those treasured threads that Destiny helped spin from Creation. The strings held so tightly and brightly on Its loom.
The strands that It'll never let Destruction take.
Now go. Foolishly try to prove you’re favored, you're loved, by dear Destiny.
But don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Bye-bye!
××××××××××
Harumi gathers a lot of power to change Destiny, so she is the green ninja adopted daughter of Garmadon, and Lloyd is the abandoned Jade Prince.
Lloyd doesn't know why everything always felt so wrong, like this itch in his body that never went away, but then he meets the ninja, he meets his dad (the good one), and he sees her — the once Jade Princess from his memories, now the green ninja. And he feels furious. Those powers are his birthright, as the grandson of the creator of Ninjago, a descendant of Creation and Destruction in Oni and Dragon ancestry. They will never be her’s, and she’ll soon learn what happens to mortals that play with powers beyond their control.
It’s why Destiny always favored Lloyd, and Harumi was a mere footnote to Destiny, a cockroach that didn’t like to die if you will. It’s Lloyd’s birth rite to be the Green Ninja, and it will never be Harumi’s try as she might to change her destiny.
And so, Lloyd will fight, his will strong and unmovable. He'll fight to save his and his families’ destinies before Harumi threatens the whole loom to collapse with her meddling.
In other words, this a role swap au that Destiny hates and will not allow, but that doesn't mean that It will do all the heavy lifting to get things back on track. No, that's the true Green Ninja's job.
First - Previous - Next "What if...?"
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susartwork · 10 months ago
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Doodle page of the skelebros except they get individual doodles cause they barely talk to each other
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jaywaslost · 1 month ago
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Schrödinger's Paradox
——
HAPPY BIRTHDAY POOKIE @asukamood!!!!!!
In your honor, Dream has been hurt✨️
——
Sypnosis: Sometimes he still feels like parts of him are stuck in the statue he became so familiar with. Cemented to the ground, solid, leaving him hollow with a duty too big and a mind that can only take so much.
For the first time in his life, that night, Dream prayed.
Word count: 3.5k
Trigger warnings?: dissociation, brief reference of child neglect
Everyone has a limit.
Every human, monster, and those in between.
There was only so much one could take before they broke. The mind is a weak, weak thing. Ever so capable, yet the ease at which it can be broken down is baffling. One traumatic experience after the other was all it took to leave someone a shell of what they once were, and it wasn’t like that was hard to achieve.
Dream knew that very well.
A person whose life had been planned out from the very beginning, a lamb to the slaughter since his first breath.
For a guardian of positivity, he was far from being optimistic about his predicament. It’s quite difficult to be once you run out of things to use for distractions, 500 years and counting, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt in control.
Maybe it was the day he woke up from his stone prison. Merely a child, trapped in stone by the one he cared for the most. Very few moments left Dream feeling as helpless as he did back then, although there wasn’t anywhere to go once rock bottom was hit.
He remembers worrying about his brother’s whereabouts that day, uncertain and afraid of everything around him. Nothing looked the way he remembered, the land was barren and the village (or what used to be one) was reduced to nothing. The woman who freed him sounded strange, but she was the only other live presence near him.
Dream remembers trying to understand what she said, waiting for his chance to speak and ask where his family had gone- where everyone was, they wouldn’t have abandoned him so suddenly, would they? H̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶n̶'t̶ e̶n̶t̶i̶r̶e̶l̶y̶ u̶s̶e̶l̶e̶s̶s̶ j̶u̶s̶t̶ y̶e̶t̶.
When his eyes landed on the stump of the tree that once contained his mother’s spirit, time felt like it had frozen.
Between the throb of his aching limbs, the ringing in his head, and the sheer horror at the sight before him, he could no longer concentrate. He didn’t notice the lack of oxygen in his system until black spots had begun to cloud his vision, head heavy and heart aching. The woman yanked on his cape in an attempt to get his attention back,scoffing as he fell without a word. T̶h̶e̶ g̶l̶a̶r̶e̶ s̶h̶e̶ g̶a̶v̶e̶ h̶i̶m̶ f̶a̶r̶ t̶o̶o̶ r̶e̶m̶i̶n̶i̶s̶c̶e̶n̶t̶ o̶f̶ t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶s̶ f̶o̶r̶ c̶o̶m̶f̶o̶r̶t̶.
She introduced herself as Lanny, a supposed friend of his mother’s, an ‘aunt’ of his. The name felt slightly familiar, but it rang no bells.
It was safe to say she made sure he’d never forget her after that.
As if his confusion and fear weren’t enough, her words stung like knives. She didn’t take long to tell him what he missed, straight to the point, like she always is.
“Your brother is dead.”
Dream refused to believe her at first, in fact, he had laughed at her words. Her glare sharpened as the situation truly sunk in, his mind bringing all the memories from before his ‘coma’ rushing at him.
The villagers chanting, his brother’s screams, the sickening sound of bones shattering, his pleas, he wanted to throw up.
His last words.
“Don’t forget who I used to be”
Don’t forget who I used to be.
Don’t forget who I used to be.
Ḏ̴̢̱̩̩̙̜̘̯̣̰͎͖̖͇̂̇̈́̂̈́̈́̊̃̂͒͐̌͝O̸̡͙̤̠͙̻̭̖̲̲̣̖͉̒̃̔͐̏̔Ń̶̡̨̧̹̯͔̼̝͓̻̫̪̜̒̎̅̓͊’̷̛͔͎̼̽́͒̆̀͒̇͐̇̀̕͜͝͠͠Ṱ̴̨̙̝̱́̒̈̈́̄͆̈́ ̴̘̲̘̓͊͝͝F̶̠͈̹͔̫̰̈́̓͋͒̅̀̏̋̆̑̍͝ͅƠ̴̡̮̖̺̟̟̈̈́̀̍̀̔͐̍̐̆̕͜͝R̸̢̛̫̳̬̗̠̣̗̿͝͠Ǵ̷̡̙̩͔͎̼̞̻̫̫̬̜̽̈́̽͌̽͊̀͂̀͆̽̄͝ͅE̷͈̥͉͓͙̞̓̌͊̈͐̾̆̃̾̽̈ͅͅT̵̡̢̬̜͉̣͈̖̟̟̟̻̼̳̿̓̏͗͋͑͌̔͘-̵͖͓̪̹̈́̂̊
He never felt so lost in his life.
Maybe it was the first time he felt another person’s feelings instead of his own.
Emotions are a complicated concept but one he considered himself good at understanding his entire life. T̶h̶a̶t̶ i̶s̶, u̶n̶t̶i̶l̶ i̶t̶ a̶c̶t̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ m̶a̶t̶t̶e̶r̶e̶d̶. H̶i̶s̶ i̶g̶n̶o̶r̶a̶n̶c̶e̶ l̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ t̶h̶i̶s̶, h̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ d̶e̶s̶e̶r̶v̶e̶ t̶o̶ c̶o̶m̶p̶l̶a̶i̶n̶.
It was during the first ‘lesson’ Lanny had given him. The woman didn’t explain her reasoning, nor did she truly teach him anything.
She would attack and he would need to defend himself, a moment of hesitation would simply mean the end.
If it were just physical he could’ve handled it, he wasn’t normal by any means, but being unbelievably disoriented with the new sensations did him no favor.
He paused, he tried to ask for help, clarification, but all he got in return was a mouth full of blood and more bruises.
To put it simply: she was ruthless. By the end, he was sore all over, more disoriented than he was before.
It did him no good, it felt less like training and more like he was getting beaten up everyday as a way for her to take her anger out. She constantly reminded him how he was part of the main reason his mother was forever gone, he couldn’t deny it either. Selfishly, he wanted to believe he did nothing wrong. She was his mother, she was meant to be there, yet she never was.
Part of him understood why Nightmare had decided to cut her, and it made him feel like the worst person alive.
She wasn’t fully alive, she wasn’t capable like they were. They existed only because of that, no more, no less. To carry out a job she was too weak to do alone because of those around them.
She never wanted children.
I̶f̶ a̶ g̶r̶o̶w̶n̶ g̶u̶a̶r̶d̶i̶a̶n̶ c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'t̶ h̶a̶n̶d̶l̶e̶ i̶t̶, w̶h̶a̶t̶ m̶a̶d̶e̶ h̶e̶r̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶ s̶i̶x̶ y̶e̶a̶r̶ o̶l̶d̶ c̶h̶i̶l̶d̶r̶e̶n̶ c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶?̶
Maybe that was Lanny’s way of making him repay her, for all the trouble he had put her through, all the problems he caused and never even tried to fix.
Simply paying the price for the pain he caused.
H̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ a̶ c̶h̶i̶l̶d̶. S̶h̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ t̶h̶o̶u̶s̶a̶n̶d̶s̶ o̶f̶ y̶e̶a̶r̶s̶ o̶l̶d̶. S̶h̶e̶ k̶n̶e̶w̶ b̶e̶t̶t̶e̶r̶.
His body felt like it was on fire, the first day he couldn’t help but cry to himself. It hurt, his chest felt like it was going to burst, but he couldn’t stop.
The tears didn’t stop coming, making everything worse.
Eventually, they stopped. His energy was lower than ever, but he couldn’t bring himself to rest. It was unbelievably cold, all alone without anyone near him.
No one to sit by, no one to speak to, no one for comfort.
He had to grow some tolerance to the cold, as Lanny said. If he was going to survive he needed to be able to handle some weather conditions or else he had no chance.
As time passed, he found himself tracing cracks in his bones.
Being a statue for so long doesn’t come without consequence. Stone withers, so did his bones. Tiny parts of his fingers had been chipped off, lengthy cracks down his arms and some even reaching his legs.
Ironically enough, his face, if not counting the damage Lanny did, was untouched.
His clothing and gloves covered all the damage, the pressure they put on his bones helped him ignore the sensation a little more easily. It wasn’t like they’d heal for a long time, but he had no choice there.
Sometimes he still feels like parts of him are stuck in the statue he became so familiar with. Cemented to the ground, solid, leaving him hollow with a duty too big and a mind that can only take so much.
For the first time in his life, that night, Dream prayed.
Never once had things gone easy, but he was desperate for a change.
He had always been the desperate type, though.
Hadn’t he?
The most familiar feeling to him was a sense of hopeless desperation. It was the only part of himself that he could pick out when his own feelings were overcrowded by other people’s in his vicinity.
A need he choked on constantly, a yearning on the tip of his tongue that he never truly got out.
He ignored the way his hands went numb, his knees scraping against the ground, blood seeping from every wound left on him. He wasn’t sure how long it was that he stayed in that position, but in the safety of only his own presence, he poured everything out.
He begged as tears rolled down once more, begged that this would all end soon and that he would go back to how things used to be before.
What he would give to take away all the pain his brother had gone through.
He could handle it, he deserved it, he’s the reason for the way things ended up.
If he was a better sibling, if he tried harder, if he spent more time with him, maybe they would’ve still been at the tree, laughing with eachother.
Maybe their mother would’ve been there.
Maybe the villagers would have been nicer.
Treated them better.
Heartbreak followed him wherever he went. A defining part of him. He had plenty to be heart broken about, didn’t he?
The loss of everything when his life had just begun.
He never got the chance to live, never had his first friendship, never had a home.
He never even got to understand himself before everything crumbled.
It left a gaping hole inside of him, one nothing could fill.
Time passed, Lanny left him alone, but the effects of her actions lasted.
It wasn’t until he came face-to-face with the monster that had taken his brother as a vessel that he understood.
Understood the true impact his actions had.
The reason for her insistence.
The malice in her voice.
The most naive part of him believed his brother was still there. That maybe, just maybe, he could have the final conversation he wanted so badly with the other before everything crumbled, but all he got instead was a sickening sense of grief.
A sense of impending doom.
It took him what felt like an eternity to breathe again, but even then, the air felt unbearably heavier than before.
T̶h̶e̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ i̶n̶ f̶r̶o̶n̶t̶ o̶f̶ h̶i̶m̶ w̶a̶s̶ i̶n̶ n̶o̶ w̶a̶y̶ h̶i̶s̶ b̶r̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶. I̶t̶'s̶ s̶m̶i̶l̶e̶s̶, t̶h̶e̶ l̶o̶o̶k̶ i̶n̶ i̶t̶s̶ e̶y̶e̶, i̶t̶ s̶h̶o̶o̶k̶ h̶i̶m̶ t̶o̶ h̶i̶s̶ c̶o̶r̶e̶.
W̶a̶s̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ w̶h̶e̶n̶ h̶e̶ f̶e̶l̶t̶ i̶t̶ a̶l̶l̶ f̶a̶l̶l̶ a̶p̶a̶r̶t̶ f̶o̶r̶ t̶h̶e̶ f̶i̶r̶s̶t̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶?̶ H̶i̶s̶ f̶r̶a̶g̶i̶l̶e̶ h̶o̶p̶e̶, u̶n̶a̶n̶s̶w̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ p̶r̶a̶y̶e̶r̶s̶, t̶h̶e̶ w̶e̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ o̶f̶ i̶t̶ a̶l̶l̶ l̶a̶i̶d̶ i̶t̶s̶e̶l̶f̶ t̶h̶i̶c̶k̶.
Fighting the very thing that turned his life upside down left him severely unsettled, that much was to be expected.
What wasn’t though, was the way it left him even more dazed than he had been for years before.
It claimed the name of his brother, but the idea of referring to it by that made him feel worse.
If it were a one time thing, he wouldn’t have been so shaken up, but the frequency of these encounters after Lanny had left him never left a chance to rest.
It didn’t take him long to realize it was hunting him down specifically.
H̶a̶d̶ i̶t̶ b̶e̶e̶n̶ d̶o̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ t̶h̶e̶ e̶n̶t̶i̶r̶e̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶?̶
Every interaction left Dream feeling more distant than the last, like he was watching himself in third person. Always present, but not quite there.
With time, it became easier to retaliate, but the grief never left.
Every scar was a reminder of his failures.
Every word imprinted in his head.
Maybe, if he had learned of things earlier, he wouldn’t be fighting a parasite with a familiar face.
One wearing the past so clearly.
The world faded into a haze, it hurt less that way.
The idea of interacting with others whilst he was constantly chased sounded both exhausting and like more trouble than it was worth. Despite that, they never seemed to leave him.
His presence was comforting by nature, even attracting animals to him since he was a child. People would be no different. I̶s̶o̶l̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ h̶a̶v̶e̶ b̶e̶e̶n̶ w̶o̶r̶s̶e̶, b̶u̶t̶ h̶e̶ c̶r̶a̶v̶e̶d̶ i̶t̶ m̶o̶r̶e̶ t̶h̶a̶n̶ a̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶.
It wouldn’t have been such a problem if some of them didn’t become so..obsessive.
They wanted to feel good, he made it easy.
A simple prospect.
H̶e̶ c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'t̶ b̶e̶g̶i̶n̶ t̶o̶ c̶o̶u̶n̶t̶ t̶h̶e̶ n̶u̶m̶b̶e̶r̶ o̶f̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶y̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶n̶ h̶i̶m̶, t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶n̶ o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶s̶, e̶v̶e̶n̶ t̶h̶e̶m̶s̶e̶l̶v̶e̶s̶, t̶o̶ g̶e̶t̶ h̶i̶m̶ t̶o̶ s̶t̶a̶y̶.
N̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ o̶n̶c̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ h̶i̶s̶ p̶e̶r̶s̶p̶e̶c̶t̶i̶v̶e̶ c̶o̶n̶s̶i̶d̶e̶r̶e̶d̶.
He didn’t get a say, he owed them it.
He was their guardian, if he couldn’t provide them the positivity to keep going with their days, who would?
If he wasn’t happy to do so, who would be?
If he wasn’t happy, how were they meant to believe they could ever be?
It didn’t matter what he did, said, wanted, none of it mattered. He had to stay and play the role he was assigned.
If not him, then who?
He didn’t need their comfort the way they needed his, he had time to get over it all.
He didn’t need companions, his presence was bound to catch up and hurt them eventually.
It was never just him.
When it finally did, some accused him of intentionally leading ‘Nightmare’ to them.
Intentionally harming them for everything.
Too selfish to help them, he tried to ‘get rid’ of them.
He didn’t argue, guilt made its presence known, but it had finally given him reason to go.
T̶h̶e̶ a̶c̶h̶e̶ f̶r̶o̶m̶ w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ h̶i̶s̶ a̶r̶m̶ h̶a̶d̶ p̶r̶e̶v̶i̶o̶u̶s̶l̶y̶ b̶e̶e̶n̶ m̶a̶d̶e̶ h̶i̶m̶ m̶o̶r̶e̶ l̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ h̶e̶a̶d̶e̶d̶ t̶h̶a̶n̶ h̶e̶'d̶ h̶a̶v̶e̶ l̶i̶k̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ a̶d̶m̶i̶t̶. W̶h̶a̶t̶ a̶ w̶a̶y̶ t̶o̶ f̶i̶n̶d̶ o̶u̶t̶ t̶h̶e̶ r̶e̶s̶u̶l̶t̶s̶ o̶f̶ t̶h̶e̶ h̶e̶s̶i̶t̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ L̶a̶n̶n̶y̶ w̶a̶r̶n̶e̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶ s̶o̶ m̶u̶c̶h̶ a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶s̶t̶.
In his daze, he didn’t focus on where he went, portal after portal to go somewhere far from others.
It wasn’t until someone tapped him on the shoulder and spoke that he realized how far he’d gone.
The other was unfamiliar, a face Dream hadn’t encountered before, nor did they seem to recognize who he was.
With a smile on his face, he introduced himself and asked about the place.
His question was answered quickly, but before he could ask their name back, he was getting dragged somewhere by his other arm.
T̶h̶e̶y̶ r̶e̶a̶l̶i̶z̶e̶d̶, d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ t̶h̶e̶y̶?̶
To his surprise, the other’s actions were caused by concern.
He was injured, yes, but it wasn’t easy to tell (with the exception of the arm he was missing as of mere moments ago. It wasn’t like it was bloody, his magic handled that very quickly).
They introduced themselves as Swap, but said to just call them Blue.
Without question, the other began helping to dress his wounds.
Despite protest from Dream, Blue refused to let him leave hurt as he was. He couldn’t do anything about the glaring problem, but he wouldn’t just stand by.
D̶r̶e̶a̶m̶ w̶a̶s̶ a̶l̶r̶e̶a̶d̶y̶ p̶a̶n̶i̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶, t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ o̶f̶ h̶o̶w̶ h̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ m̶e̶a̶n̶t̶ t̶o̶ r̶e̶p̶a̶y̶ t̶h̶e̶ d̶e̶b̶t̶ f̶r̶o̶m̶ t̶h̶i̶s̶.
He came up with an excuse to leave quickly after, which the other had let him do quite easily.
O̶d̶d̶l̶y̶ u̶n̶e̶x̶p̶e̶c̶t̶e̶d̶.
He retreated to a barren universe, unexpectedly finding Lanny waiting for him.
She ‘replaced’ the arm he lost and disappeared just as quickly as she came. A one time thing, according to her.
An archer is useless without both their arms, he’d be of no use the way he was.
That day was far from his last encounter with Blue, it seemed that every event from that point on pointed him towards the man.
In some weird twist of fate, they had become friends.
Dream had many doubts at first, how was he to know he wasn’t being used once again? Whether it was for things to be done or to feel good, he’d seen it all.
Over and over, Blue proved himself to be truly honest about his reasoning.
No ulterior motives, he didn’t care for what Dream provided, he cared for Dream alone.
It was strange, he refused to believe it for a long time.
The day he decided to take the risk and trust that, a weight was taken off of him.
The other stuck by him, he wanted him for him, he wouldn’t dare burden him.
The same way he used to as a child, he ran off every time he needed to express an emotion that was considered ‘wrong’ of him.
He couldn’t destroy the one friendship he had.
Vulnerability destroyed his mother, his brother, if he were to show it, it was a matter of time before it destroyed him too.
He had to be strong. There was a point to it all, he had to believe it.
If he didn’t, there was no telling how much longer he’d be able to hold on. He’d cling onto the belief, even as his hands went numb and the light died out.
He was never in control, he wouldn’t ever be.
The only decision he ever had to himself was where he let his heart out.
That was the case, at least. Until he was discovered that was.
R̶e̶m̶i̶n̶i̶s̶c̶e̶n̶t̶ o̶f̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶ N̶e̶i̶l̶ f̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶ f̶o̶r̶ t̶h̶e̶ f̶i̶r̶s̶t̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶, e̶x̶c̶e̶p̶t̶ h̶e̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ d̶o̶ s̶o̶ a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶. o̶n̶e̶ o̶f̶ t̶h̶e̶ m̶a̶n̶y̶ l̶o̶s̶t̶ b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ o̶f̶ h̶i̶s̶ i̶n̶a̶c̶t̶i̶o̶n̶.
It was a familiar face, Blue had stumbled upon him while he was meant to be on a walk.
Every step he took towards him, Dream moved backwards.
He was discovered at his worst, that was it.
Despite how Blue stopped trying to approach him, Dream’s mind was racing to come up with an excuse for the situation.
He couldn’t speak.
It didn’t feel real.
He wondered, maybe for the 10th time that week, what it all was.
He was playing a game he could never win.
He felt trapped in his own body, watching his movements like a puppet rather than a person. A ghost, watching his life play out until he saw his corpse at the end and realized he was dead the entire time.
He couldn’t run.
He felt insane every time.
He didn’t put a name to this repetitive issue of his. He would need to confront it otherwise, it’d become too real.
C̶a̶l̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ i̶t̶ d̶i̶s̶s̶o̶c̶i̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ f̶e̶l̶t̶ l̶i̶k̶e̶ e̶x̶c̶u̶s̶e̶s̶, l̶i̶k̶e̶ i̶t̶ d̶i̶s̶c̶r̶e̶d̶i̶t̶e̶d̶ t̶h̶o̶s̶e̶ w̶h̶o̶ t̶r̶u̶l̶y̶ d̶i̶d̶ h̶a̶v̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶ p̶r̶o̶b̶l̶e̶m̶. H̶e̶ n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ w̶a̶n̶t̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶ a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ i̶t̶.
They ended up sitting together in silence, Dream trying to calm his racing mind as Blue stood far. He never asked anything, Dream was grateful.
They never spoke about that day again.
H̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ s̶t̶i̶l̶l̶ u̶s̶e̶f̶u̶l̶, h̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ w̶o̶r̶t̶h̶y̶ o̶f̶ b̶e̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶ g̶u̶a̶r̶d̶i̶a̶n̶, h̶e̶ h̶a̶d̶ t̶o̶ b̶e̶-̶
H̶e̶ c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ d̶o̶ i̶t̶.
H̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ w̶a̶n̶t̶ t̶o̶ b̶e̶ d̶i̶s̶p̶o̶s̶e̶d̶ o̶f̶ j̶u̶s̶t̶ y̶e̶t̶.
They were back to normal for a while, Dream was more careful about his decisions.
Never again did he rush somewhere without checking his surroundings a million times for people, not just danger.
It was until Dream himself seeked the other out that either of them talked about anything.
Originally, they wanted to hang out for some time, but their conversation strayed.
The topic? Feelings.
Dream stayed quiet for the majority of it, his responses concerned with other people’s rather than his own. W̶a̶s̶ i̶t̶ b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ o̶f̶ f̶e̶a̶r̶?̶ o̶r̶ t̶h̶e̶ f̶a̶c̶t̶ h̶e̶ c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ h̶a̶r̶d̶l̶y̶ t̶e̶l̶l̶ t̶h̶e̶m̶ a̶p̶a̶r̶t̶?̶
Blue switched between asking, talking about things he's seen, and other times about some parts of him he had never shown anyone else.
If it was an attempt to encourage Dream to talk about his own, it was somewhat helpful. It was the most seen he's felt before without saying a word. Funnily enough, they had some very specific shared experiences Dream couldn’t have put into words if he tried.
He was close, very close, to saying more.
Ultimately, he stayed quiet.
If Blue noticed, he let him be.
I̶f̶ h̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ n̶o̶t̶i̶c̶e̶, n̶o̶ o̶n̶e̶ e̶l̶s̶e̶ e̶v̶e̶r̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶. D̶r̶e̶a̶m̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ l̶i̶k̶e̶ t̶o̶ p̶r̶e̶t̶e̶n̶d̶ h̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ e̶v̶e̶n̶ i̶f̶ f̶o̶r̶ h̶i̶s̶ o̶w̶n̶ s̶a̶n̶i̶t̶y̶.
About halfway through the conversation, he had started to reflect.
He never wanted to show anything besides happiness around others, motivating them more than he could do for himself.
He spent years trying to bury the part of him that pleaded for another person, to for once be comforted rather than blamed or being the comforter.
It never worked.
Everytime he cried, it felt like he was faking it all. He had his good days, it felt audacious of him to act miserable when he had what may be considered luxury to some. He had many years ahead of him, others were robbed of theirs early. He could get better c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ h̶e̶?̶,, others died miserable.
And yet, it felt as if he told anyone, it would negate all his misery. All the years he spent alone, everything he went through, it wouldn’t sound as bad anymore. It felt like being happy betrayed all the time he spent questioning if he should’ve ever existed to begin with. It felt like it would betray all the guilt he carried for so long, like he never cared.
He didn’t want to get better.
Not saying anything back felt unfair, but the idea of revealing the darkest parts of himself was more terrifying than that.
As a way to compensate, he decided to take off a glove of his.
The one that covered his actual arm, all of the cracks and chips being on full display.
Blue went quiet at the sight, Dream didn’t dare break the silence. The other ended up taking his hand and tracing every crack as gently as he could.
Dream had never known what it felt like to be handled gently before.
The concept was foreign to him.
Another ironic part of him, isn’t it?
For a reason he didn’t know, he wasn’t as terrified as he felt before.
It didn’t mean he would change his mind, but it was comforting.
Maybe, in another lifetime, he wouldn’t be so flawed.
Maybe, in another lifetime, he’d have been okay.
Maybe, in another lifetime, he will be okay.
B̶u̶t̶, n̶o̶t̶ i̶n̶ t̶h̶i̶s̶ o̶n̶e̶. N̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ t̶h̶i̶s̶ o̶n̶e̶.
H̶e̶ h̶a̶d̶ t̶o̶o̶ m̶u̶c̶h̶ t̶o̶ d̶o̶.
T̶h̶e̶ g̶u̶a̶r̶d̶i̶a̶n̶ o̶f̶ p̶o̶s̶i̶t̶i̶v̶i̶t̶y̶, d̶o̶o̶m̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ a̶ l̶i̶f̶e̶ o̶f̶ m̶i̶s̶e̶r̶y̶ u̶n̶t̶i̶l̶ i̶t̶ e̶n̶d̶e̶d̶ a̶n̶d̶ h̶e̶ r̶e̶l̶i̶v̶e̶d̶ i̶t̶ f̶r̶o̶m̶ t̶h̶e̶ v̶e̶r̶y̶ b̶e̶g̶i̶n̶n̶i̶n̶g̶.
Maybe, in another life, he wouldn’t have been so conflicting.
Maybe.
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160502 · 2 years ago
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if stevetony not canon then why red and blue blonde and brunette life and death moon and sun short and tall dog and cat
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p3achj3llyf1sh · 4 months ago
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I fucking hate him so much if miguel has zero haters i am dead
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shadowjokerao3 · 2 years ago
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Mike is a terrible influence on Fox. Pre Fox’s first arson.
Did not think I’d be making another one of these but this scene for the multiversal therapy has been stuck in my head.
Mike Pines belongs to @soniccrazygal
FoxTrap belongs to me
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rowinablx · 1 year ago
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I have to give praise to the makeup and costume department for Multiverse of Madness because when we first see Wanda, she's collected, hair nice, looks put together.
And then at the end she's completely disheveled.
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Eyes crazy, hair unkempt, she looks like she hasn't slept in years. Perfectly representing Wanda's downward spiral during Multiverse of Madness.
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chiangyorange · 2 years ago
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corvussnakee · 8 months ago
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Heyyy... So uh...
I finished his thingy.
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It's not that big of a change. Sorta just darkened his colors and put his Bandana over his mouth.
I wanted to have him mirror Dust in a way. So if Dust has his hood up then surely Rottenberry can have his Bandana covering half his face.
RB probs never takes it off unless a) he's not in a public place and b) only with people who he trusts.
Also, when using his magic I like to think a deep navy blue/dark blue smog starts leaking from his right eye. I dunno, in my head that looks fuckin cool. Also all his attacks are purple. Why? Because if he doesn't kill you in battle then the poison will surely kill ya outside of it.
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levitatingbiscuits · 1 year ago
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ok finally saw across the spiderverse and maybe im just a lesbian but i do not understand the hype about miguel o'hara at all
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inamindfarfaraway · 2 years ago
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Becky definitely becomes Charlotte’s friend in at least one timeline, right? They would get along too well for her not to. Her own experience of being trapped in an abusive marriage and then finding the courage and strength to break out of it makes her help and support a major factor in Charlotte deciding to divorce Sam. From now on, she’s going to live for herself. She starts going to therapy. Everyone is very proud of her. It’s awesome.
Then Becky finds out that the man Charlotte’s actually in love with, and wanting to officially date, is fucking Ted Spankoffski. As any good friend would, she responds with “Oh, HELL no”. Until she realizes while telling him to back off that… Ted loves Charlotte too. Romantically. He has genuine care for not only another human being besides his brother, but a woman. Becky feels like a European seeing a black swan for the first time in history. So maybe, just maybe, he and Charlotte have the potential to be happy together. The security and intimacy of a positive relationship can be conducive to healing from a toxic one, after all; look at Becky and Tom. But this messy former affair turning into something healthy - and indeed, Charlotte’s friends letting it continue at all - depend on Ted doing some serious self-improvement and sorting out his shit. Beacon of belief in humanity’s goodness that she is, Becky is willing to give Hatchetfield’s most notorious bastard the benefit of the doubt. Once.
And that is how out of love and under the steely glare of Becky “I’m Just Lining Up My Shot” Barnes, Ted finally gets therapy.
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