#the pain will never heal

[cantagirldrawinpeace]

Shoutout to when Nami’s eyes do this thing that they do.

[trensu]

Guess who's baaaaack! It's me, I'm back to writing. My laptop when kaput back in May and I've only recently gotten a replacement. In celebration of this, here's more of stasis in darkness. Enjoy :)

.

“Hello. I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” the god said. 

“Years? But, why would you want–? I’m–I’m no one, Lord.”

“Don’t say that.”

The god’s voice hadn’t gotten louder, yet his words carried a force that made the room tremble. The air became heavy with it. Wayne’s breathing grew haggard under the pressure of the words. Steve tossed out any idea of false privacy and crossed the room in a few steps to kneel at the other side of the bed. He took Wayne’s free hand to anchor him. Wayne didn’t so much as twitch in his direction but his knuckles went white as he gripped Steve’s hand.

“You gave me your spoils and your stories every night. I felt your love in every word you spoke to me. You’re the reason I’ve been able to exist this long. Wayne Munson, you are the most important person in the world to me."

Wayne let out a wordless cry. The hand in Steve's shook. Steve viscerally remembered how it felt to have the god’s attention like that for the first time. He also remembered how guilty the god sounded after he realized the effect he had on mortals. With a slight grimace, Steve discreetly nabbed the Lord of Night's attention. 

"I think that was a little too much," Steve suggested cautiously in a low tone barely audible over Wayne's sobs. "Maybe dial it back a little?"

The Lord of Night nodded abashedly. When he spoke again, the pressure in his speech noticeably lessened though the love in his words remained.

“So, you see, I needed to meet you in person. To thank you.”

The last part made Wayne weep louder. The grip he had on Steve’s hand increased in strength, and Steve was sort of relieved Wayne was an old man because even this frail, his hands were pretty damn strong. If he’d been any younger, Steve would’ve had bruises for sure. The god waited patiently as Wayne collected himself.

“My Lord, y-you–” Wayne gasped as his crying subsided. “I don’t deserve–”

“Wayne, you crazy old man, are you going to argue with your god?” the Lord of Night said in the same teasing tone he used with Steve all those nights in his pilgrimage. Wayne’s eyes widened.

“N-No! I’d never–!”

The god laughed, playful and bright as a star. Wayne halted his protests to stare in awe again. 

“You know, I usually encourage a bit of dissent but this time, I’m putting my foot down. You do deserve this, okay?”

Wayne nodded dazedly. He still watched the god with soft, warm eyes. His hand twitched in Steve’s as if he wanted to reach up to touch the god. Steve loosened his grip to allow it but Wayne didn’t follow through with the motion.

“...you remind me of someone,” Wayne whispered. The Lord of Night tilted his head curiously.

“Do I?” he asked. At Wayne’s nod, he added, “I hope it’s someone good. I know what people say about me these days, and let me tell you, it’s not super flattering. King of Darkness this and monster herder that, blah, blah, mean and scary, blah.”

“I know better than to pay any mind to hearsay,” Wayne replied. "I’ve found that most people are fools, my Lord." 

The Lord of Night laughed again. Wayne looked delighted. 

The rest of the night continued along the same line. The Lord of Night listened eagerly to Wayne’s every word as he reminisced about past heists and recalled fond childhood memories. Steve kept to himself, for the most part, letting the Lord of Night and his last believer bask in each other’s presence. Wayne stayed awake as long as he could but finally fell asleep as dawn approached. The Lord of Night began to fade as the first rays of the morning peeked through the bedroom window.

“Watch over him for me, please?” the Lord of Night asked Steve. “I’ll be back tonight.”

“Of course, Lord,” Steve replied. 

The sun broke past the horizon and the Lord of Night vanished. Steve took the stone from the bedside table. He wrapped it up carefully in cloth before returning it to his satchel. That level of care probably wasn’t necessary considering it was solid stone but it was the only thing they knew would keep the god tethered to this plane so far from his last shrine. Steve was charged with carrying his god's tether and he would not let him down by being careless with it.

It was also the only thing he had been given that belonged to his god. Typically, a holy warrior would be granted a symbol of their faith by a temple priest once a god had accepted the holy warrior’s offered service. Most of the time it would be a simple pendant or bracelet with a god’s sigil; a mass produced thing any follower could obtain, the only difference being that a holy warrior’s token would carry a particular blessing from the high priest. A holy warrior would carry that as a sign of their commitment until they’ve earned a more prestigious item to replace it during their years of service.

Steve’s journey so far has been as atypical as it could get. Most warriors traveled to their god's grandest temple. They recited that god's specific prayer for a holy warrior's offering, witnessed by a high priest who would then reveal whether the offering was accepted. Steve's god had no official prayers of any sort, much less temples or clergy. Steve's god couldn't really remember his own symbol aside from a vague outline of it; not nearly enough for it to be inscribed on even the simplest of tokens. 

Regardless, Steve wouldn't trade his experience for anything. Most holy warriors toiled for years, even decades, before getting a chance to meet their god. Steve met his god nearly at the beginning though he hadn't known it at the time. He'd been able to see him and speak to him. Steve’s humble offering of servitude had been accepted directly by his god rather than by priestly proxy. So what if his god wasn't able to grant him a token for his pledge? His presence was a privilege Steve would take over any boon.

It was a sentiment Steve knew Wayne understood. Steve scooted his chair closer to the bed where the old man lay sleeping. He wrapped a hand around Wayne's wrist to track his weak pulse, and settled in for his vigil.

–

Steve woke Wayne a handful of times to make sure he drank some water or ate some of the vegetable soup Steve had thrown together using whatever he’d picked from the garden the day before. They chatted for a while; Wayne telling Steve about his life before age and sickness caught up to him. Eventually, Steve was able to coax him back to sleep when it became obvious his energy was fading.

At some point in the day, Wayne’s temperature began to rise. Nothing worrisome yet, but dread trickled into Steve’s veins regardless. The old man had been fighting whatever ailed him for a while now. If a fever overcame him, Steve doubted Wayne would survive it.

When the Lord of Night appeared alongside the fading sunset, he seemed as worried as Steve. Wayne sat in bed, propped up by pillows Steve had strategically placed. His eyes were rheumy but steady.

“You’ve seen the Door already, haven’t you?” the Lord of Night asked Wayne dejectedly.

Wayne’s gaze strayed from the god. He glanced at the corner opposite of the bedroom door. His hands shook as he tried to point that direction. Steve didn't see any door there. The god took Wayne's hand between his own, tangible to his last believer even as he appeared more translucent than the night before.

“It showed up earlier today,” Wayne whispered. The god nodded.

“You don’t have to answer yet, but soon. Once you go through the Door, you’ll be in Death's domain. No god is allowed to enter there besides him. I would have lost my chance to meet you if we’d been delayed any longer.”

“Good thing you have Ser Steve. He got you here real quick from what he told me,” Wayne said with a crooked smile.

“Has he been talking himself up?” the god asked amusedly. “Trying to impress the boss?”

“It’s my first quest,” Steve butted in with mild exasperation borne of embarrassment. He hadn’t expected Wayne to mention him at all during his communion with the Lord of Night. “I have to make a good impression.”

“To make up for the first impression, huh?” the Lord of Night teased. 

Oh no, Steve thought when he caught Wayne’s curious look. He wanted to hide his face in his hands. That would be childish. Steve was a man so he was above that, unfortunately.

“Wayne,” the Lord of Night said with palpable mischief. “In exchange for all the stories you’ve given me these many years, what if I told you how I got my very first holy warrior?”

“I didn’t know better,” Steve groaned weakly in an effort to stop the story before it began in earnest. The Lord of Night made a shushing motion in his direction. 

“It would be a privilege, Lord,” Wayne said with matching mischief.

“Settle in, my loyal follower, and listen closely,” the Lord of Night began with exuberance. “I call this tale The Trial of Nine Nights.”

The rest of the night, the god recounted Steve’s pilgrimage. The way he told it painted Steve as some sort of gallant hero. It was suspenseful and whimsical. It didn’t sound like Steve’s experience at all. Yet every word was true, told with a flair that Steve himself would never have imagined. Wayne had hung on his god’s every word, despite the sporadic interruptions caused by coughing fits.

“The way you tell stories…” Wayne said faintly between coughs as the story wound to an end. “You…really do remind me of…someone. My little starmaker*. He was…” His voice trailed off weakly as he tried to catch his breath again.

“Rest now. Tell me about him tonight, Wayne,” the Lord of Night commanded as he disappeared with the arrival of dawn.

Wayne’s temperature seemed to climb with the sun. Steve did what he could to help. He stripped the bed of blankets and draped cold, damp towels over Wayne’s brow. More than once Wayne had asked Steve to answer the door.

“Someone’s knocking,” Wayne insisted.

“I’ve checked already,” Steve lied. He hadn’t heard a single knock all day, much less one coming from the very door-less spot Wayne kept indicating. “No one’s there.”

Wayne drifted in and out of a restless slumber. Despite Steve’s efforts, the fever had not lowered by nightfall. The Lord of Night paced at the foot of Wayne’s bed with a caged restlessness. Wayne had yet to wake up. 

“I don’t think he’s going to make it. Can you do anything for him?” Steve asked, hesitantly. “You came here to help him, didn’t you?”

“No,” the Lord of Night said shortly. “I can’t. I’m not a god of medicine. I’m not a healer.”

Each word was said with increasingly helpless frustration.

“I’m not strong enough to calm his dreams. I can’t ease his pain,” the Lord of Night said angrily. “At this rate, I won’t even be able to apologize to him.”

“Apologize for what?” Steve asked incredulously. Steve’s question went unheard. The Lord of Night tugged at his hood as if trying to hide his not-face. He gave up his pacing and slumped defeatedly on the chair beside Wayne’s bed.

“His family has sustained me for so long. He’s so devoted to me, and I keep failing him,” the god said, voice thick with shame. The brooding silence that followed was unlike the Lord of Night’s usual demeanor.

Steve wanted to protest the god’s claim. He was tempted to ask why the god believed he’d failed his last follower. Steve had seen people who’ve scorned and rejected their gods for a multitude of reasons. Wayne had not behaved like any of those people. Wayne had been so happy to see the god, Steve couldn’t imagine Wayne wanting an apology of any sort.

Before Steve could steel himself to ask, Wayne finally stirred awake.The Lord of Night straightened and drew the chair closer to his last follower. Steve situated himself near the corner Wayne had claimed to see a door. There wasn’t anything Steve could realistically achieve by placing himself between Wayne and the unseen door. When Death’s Door knocked, there was nothing a mortal being could do to keep it from opening. Regardless, Steve hoped he could provide some semblance of comfort by standing guard. 

Wayne’s eyes were glassy. He lay limp and disoriented, making not a sound outside his labored breathing. Neither the Lord of Night nor Steve spoke. Steve didn’t want to startle the man nor bring his attention to the unseen door. After a few minutes, Wayne finally noticed his bedside companion. 

“You,” he croaked in a daze. “I know you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” The somber tone went unnoticed by Wayne whose entire face brightened with an unexpected joy. 

“Eddie,” Wayne said shakily. 

“What?”

“Eddie, you’re here,” Wayne said with more love and joy than Steve had ever heard from another person. He felt a momentary flash of envy that someone could hold another so dear, before it hit him that Wayne was speaking to the Lord of Night. The god seemed as dumbstruck as Steve over it.

“Is…is that me?” the Lord of Night asked. The god sounded so young and lost. It reminded Steve of Dustin and his friends when they were small. It inspired all the same protective instincts.

“‘course it’s you, Eddie,” Wayne said fondly. 

“Eddie,” the Lord of Night whispered. “Oh, it is. It is me. I’m here.” 

The words rang through the air. The finality in them nearly deafened Steve. The words were a realization that shifted the entire cosmos. The air he breathed, the light he saw, the very world he perceived had changed fundamentally. It was a change so loud and obvious, Steve was certain every human left on earth and everyone beyond the Door knew it happened. Yet between one blink and the next, the world remained the same as it ever was. Everything that had been still was and would continue to be for as long as the stars burn.

Inexplicably, Steve experienced a bout of vertigo at the shift that had and hadn’t happened. He fought back a wave of nausea that accompanied it.

“Eddie,” Wayne rasped over the rattling of his weak lungs. No longer translucent, the god appeared solid and real in a way he hadn’t even at the shrine where Steve first encountered him. Wayne’s wrinkled hand reached out to gently cup the Lord of Night’s cheek.

"Hey, Uncle Wayne," the Lord of Night said with a new voice. 

"My starmaker, I missed you. So much. But how're you here? You were gone, you di–"

"We didn't want you to be alone," Eddie, Lord of Night, responded thickly, leaning into the hand and covering it with his own.  "We wanted to thank you for taking care of us all these years."

"Don’t,” Wayne wheezed, teary. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Eddie. You deserved so much more than your pa or me ever gave you."

"No! No, Uncle Wayne, don't apologize," he said earnestly. "You were perfect. You gave us a home when pa died. We were so little and you protected us. You loved us. That's all we ever wanted."

“Oh, Eddie,” Wayne said in a heartbroken rasp. “That damn door’s been knocking all day. Who'll take care of you when I'm gone, Eddie?" 

"Don't you worry about that, Uncle Wayne. Steve's gonna look after me.”

“Are you sure?”

The Lord of Night took off his hood and turned back to look at Steve for the first time since he sat himself at Wayne’s side. All the air left Steve’s lungs in one fell swoop. His god had a face.

His god was beautiful.

The Lord of Night’s skin remained pale, providing a stark contrast to his large, dark brown eyes glittered with bittersweet joy and sorrow. His lips, full and a soft shade of pink, were pulled into a wide, mischievous grin that dimpled his cheeks. His dark eyebrows were almost hidden under wild curls. His hair draped over the slope of his shoulders and matched his eyes wonderfully.

Steve willed himself to stay steadfast and strong under the god’s gaze. The Lord of Night’s grin twisted a bit as if he wasn't entirely pleased by what he saw. The nausea from before came back because Steve knew what people looked like when he'd disappointed them. As usual, he had no idea what he'd done wrong.

“Yeah, I’m sure. He already promised,” Eddie, the Lord of Night, said. He turned back to Wayne and gently wiped the sweat off the old man's brow. 

“Good,” Wayne said with a. “You need someone takin’ care of you, the way you get in trouble all the time.”

“We weren’t that bad,” Eddie said with a watery smile. After a pause, Eddie continued reluctantly. “Uncle Wayne, if you need to answer the Door, you can. I won’t be alone.”

“Yeah,” Wayne murmured. “I’m tired, Eddie.”

“You won’t be for long, I promise, just answer the Door.”

Wayne’s breathing slowed. His eyes drooped closed. Eddie clung to his hand until it went lax. A choked sound escaped him when Wayne’s breathing stopped. Steve instinctively stepped forward to comfort him but Eddie abruptly stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. He whirled around and stumbled towards the empty space Steve left behind. 

“You better take care of him. Wayne is a good man, he’s earned–” Eddie said to…the wall? But stopped and reeled back. His mouth curved down in a scowl. Eddie’s eyes were dark and glowering as he stared at something there that Steve himself could not see.

“Oh, fuck you, I know I can’t do anything to you but–”

Eddie stopped again. He looked like he wanted to punch something. Or someone?

“I just want to know that he’ll be happy and saf–hey, asshole, I’m still talking you, don’t you dare– FUCK,” Eddie shouted at nothing. He panted in anger. Steve cleared his throat.

“My Lord?”

“I forgot how much of a dick he is. It’s not like I was asking for details! I don’t fucking care what’s past his stupid Door. It’s not a crime to want your family to, like, go somewhere good after. He could’ve just said yes or no!” Eddie ranted.

“My Lord, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh,” Eddie paused. “Right. You wouldn’t. And you shouldn’t. Not yet. Not for a long time, hopefully.”

------

*starmaker - so this is a reference to some lore i dropped in the previous scene during some edits I made after I had posted it on tumblr. basically, the legend explains why bedtime stories are a thing and that the lord of night creates a star for every story that impresses him. a really good book or author will get called a starmaker, though to the general population it's just a thing people say to denote greatness in stories without context of where the saying came from.

------

and now we're all caught up with what i've written so far, wow! but don't worry, i still have plenty more to write, stay tuned.

[kayessbeebeebeee]

[melooooo17]

@openphrase123 your fanfic(s but i mainly made art of the mira and siffrin one because i cant remember words for the life of me for i do not speak french) IS???? ? SO GOOD. SO GOOD IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH finally something to look forward to in the week fr

Mild spoilers for it ig!! But nothing too explicitly groundbreaking i dont think it'll kill your mom to look at these without having read the ff first

Don't mind the shit quality i??? I drew all these so fast theyre kinda shit and i have yet to fully acclamate isat to my artstyle so it's mid

Teehee me when i make shitty rushed fanart to show my appreciation that i cannot put into words for my faovorite games and also authors

peep the rant in the tags

[hecksupremechips]

Thinking of vlr Akane is so conflicting cuz on one hand I’m so upset that she doesn’t ever get a moment to just rest and enjoy being alive again I’m upset that she just gets deeper and deeper into this role she’s built for herself and she loses her humanity and will never ever be that girl who died in the incinerator. But on the other hand, I need her to get so, so much worse I need her to be so obsessed with perfection she has this unique ability to change the course of history and she will burn everything and everyone to the ground in the blink of an eye if it means she can "reset" and get a perfect timeline and I desperately need her to never be satisfied with anything because really, is there anything that’s worth all the damage she’s caused?

[jackstheprinceofhearts]

jacks appreciation post because i said so.

"don't fret, i won't tell your husband that you're obsessed with me."

has to be one of the greatest lines. AND THE FACT THAT HE SAID RIGHT AFTER THAT:

"i won't tell apollo that i caught you carrying around my knife, either. he and i are friends,(🤨) after all, and i'd hate for him to get jealous."

LIKE SIR???? HELLO???

AND THIS BANGER TOO:

"i'm flattered you've taken such an interest in my wants. but you really should start thinking about your husband more than me."

"not interested in biting me anymore?"

"i also play chess" 😭 HE IS TOO FUNNY

i do not support cheating until it is THEM ok???

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Therapeutic

New drabble drop. The awaited conversation between Dream and Ccino. @spotaus you ready for another gut punch for Dream my friend :D

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

no edit or beta! :D

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

Dream tugs on his vest as he glances at the cafe door.

He sees more people leave. As they have been for the last half hour.

It is fine! There is no reason to be nervous! He is just going to visit a place where someone works and lives who may have been kinda friends with Dream's brother!

The same brother that Dream has been actively working against because he was so convinced he knew better what was going on and instead of talking to his twin Dream decided it was smarter to trust other people's opinions who Dream had only known for a while and who were not close to his brother at all!

The same brother that seems to have disappeared and who Dream is no worried sick about while everyone around him celebrates his disappearance! Again because Dream messed up his job!

Dream leans against the wall and tries to calm his racing soul "it is fine. it is fine. it is fine. the worst that can happen is him telling you to get the fuck out and never return." which would include dream losing his one possible lead to find his brother.

Happy thoughts.

...

Dream shakes his skull. no. No forced happy thoughts. that is part of the reason he is struggling this much now.

Dream takes adeep breath and mutters to himself "let the fear be there. let it be with you. but don't let it consume you. don't let it keep you from doing what you wish to do." a bit of an exercise that Blue's Undyne had thought of for him. As she also struggles mentally with quite a few things.

Dream nods to himself and slowly nears the door to the cafe. a glance inside. just to make sure he isn't still busy. damnit the cafe is empty.

Well! Here goes nothing and everything!

He pushes the door open.

Ccino looks up and speaks with a practised smile "Welcome to the Cuddly Cat-" he stops and stares.

Dream tries to look calm but can't help himself as he slowly raises his hand and gives it a tiny wave.

Ccino's shock transforms into a glare as he hisses out "Well if it isn't the god that didn't even bother to read his own job description.".

Dream can't help but start laughing. It is almost a relieve! so many people had been trying to cheer him up and reassuring him that everyone messes up and that what he did wasn't that bad. It is so much better. He hadn't realised how badly he wanted at least one person to actually hold him accountable. To actually look him in the face and just straight up tell him he messed up.

Dream smiles brightly at Ccino as he answers "I know right? I made a mess of things… It is just…" he takes a deep breath. the hard part. Why he came here and hoped Ccino would have info. Because over the last few weeks a memory had suddenly stood out to him. cats who all looked and acted so much like others who Dream knew "I heard you have... very special cats and i was hoping to meet them?"

Ccino hesitates. Ccino keeps glaring at him but then his sight turns slightly and Dream can see him eye a piece of paper. Dream glances at it and sees his own pamphlet. He had left them in every universe he could think of to give everyone a quick update.

It is still a lot of work to continue clean up all the hatred he had unknowingly spread and promoted but it was a start.

Ccino sighs but he waves him over "make sure to turn the sign to closed please."

Dream blinks before smiling brightly as he does just that. he steps fully inside and turns the sign.

Ccino goes around quickly and closes the curtains and everything. Then he walks over to a table and just takes a seat.

Dream joins him at the table and smiles "thank you so much for doing this."

Ccino huffs as he leans on his fist "I figured you would keep bothering me otherwise."

It hurts to not be trusted nad Dream wonders if Nighty had to feel this daily. First in their own universe and than still in the multiverse. for over 500 years. actually being able to feel how everyone hated and distrusted him.

Dream rubs his hands "I... i would have respected a no... if you want i can still leave." he doesn't want to lose this chance... but he can't make stuff even worse. He just misses his brother so much. had missed him for so long already.

Ccino just waves it off and looks at him expecting.

Dream swallows and looks around the cafe for a moment before looking back at Ccino "I... i remembered that some of your cats were... special... in their looks and acting.. .and I was wondering... is it a coincidence or..."

Ccino snorts as he leans back "Yes. they are counterparts to other outcodes and important players in the multiverse. No i don't specifically look for them or get them or make them." he rolls his eye lights "They just show up at my front or back door and i let them stay. Sometimes some leave again."

Dream gives a slow nod and manages to gather his nerves "is... is... Is my brother's? Is my brother's cat okay? I... I can't remember seeing his cat and it is my brother! He is a god he has to be important and be here at least." he can't keep the desperate hope in anymore.

Ccino shrugs "being a god doesn't necessarily mean they show up here. it would be rather busy in here otherwise as there is a surprising large number of gods." he huffs and dream can hear Ccino mutter "with multiple universes completely focussed on making gods and having gods."

Dream alughs and nods "that is fair... it is just... i remember seeing a cat that was.. well... me.... I figured.. .there is no way that i would be there and not Nightmare."

Ccino snorts and grins "Every protagonist needs an antagonist after all."

Dream glares at the table before shooting him a glare "no not like that!"

Ccino tilts his skull and grins "relax. Antagonist doesn't automatically mean evil or anything. it means they are someone who goes against the protagonist and their goal." he shrugs "seeing as we both know nightmare had been right and you were wrong. he was still the antagonist in your story."

Dream shakes his skull "he wasn't!"

Ccino glares at him "it isn't like you left him any other role to play."

it hurts so much to know that and Dream glares "i know! Okay?! I know I messed up. I just want to find him and apologise. i need to tell him i am sorry and that he was right." that Dream lvoes him. that he is sorry. and that... that it is okay if nightmare hates him... that dream would deserve that but dream needs to make sure that nightmare knows he is sorry. that Dream regrets everything and is trying to make it right again.

Ccino stares at him before sighing and getting up. he walks towards the cattree and Dream feels his hopes fall. he is going to be send away... not even a single clue and-

very angry cat meowing as Dream watches his own counterpart cat be pushed into a side room and the door to close. Next ccino goes to the counter. He dips behind it and Dream hears a cabinet open.

After he hears panicked meowing as Ccino rises again. in his arms a large cat. maybe a main coone? but Dream feels himself start to hope as he can spot four large tails and one slow blinking cyan eye.

That is... oh fuck... that actually is!

Ccino wlaks over as three cats follow him on the ground. Dream looks at them and it is pretty obvious it are Killer, Cross and Horror. Dream wonders why they are following when he sees the cat and feels his soul grow cold.

Nightmare's.... his cat looks sick and tired.

Ccino sits in a chair closer to Dream as he gently pets the cat. Nightmare's cat purrs and leans into the touches.

Killer's cat jumps on the table and meows loudly before marching over to Ccino's side and nudging his arm. Ccino stops with petting and Killer's cat stands partly in Ccino's lap to nuzzle and clean ngihtmare's cat.

Dream looks at ccino "waht... why is he...?"

Ccino answers softly "sick? tired? older? I don't know. I have no idea what caused this..." he loks so sad as he pets the cat "I never saw anything like this before..."

Dream remembers his own weakening powers. the way he had been slowly but surely loosing his own powers and magic as he has lost his domain.

This confirms it... Nightmare's also lost his... but he was being kept alive by said magic and powers.

Dream raises a shaky hand "can i... cna i try to heal him?" anything. please let him try.

Ccino looks very unsure and loks at the cats before looking back at the door where Dream can hear his own cat version scream its head off.

Ccino sighs and nods "you can try. nothing the vet did seemed to help him much. he is just... much older now according to him."

Dream still tries. he first pets the cat gently. the goop feels strange but comforting. Dream never thought he would think of the goop like that. he had believed for so long that the goop had taken his brother from him. that it was something to be removed. But if the goop was just the apples magic trying to keep him whole? How could dream hate it? How could he hate something that saved his brother?

Now it is his turn.

He holds his hand near the rib cage of the cat and he can see NGihtmare's cat shoot him a suspicious look.

Ccino chuckles "i wouldn't touch a cat's belly if i were you. that is a very strict no-touching zone for most of them, no matter who you are."

dream shoots him a smile "that is okay. i wasn't going to touch him there." and even if he wouldn't mind too much. he focusses the little magic he still has and tries to heal the cat.

His magic doesn't touch anything that could be healed. according to his magic everything going on wiht the cat is natural and normal. there is nothing to heal.

Dream frowns as he pulls his hand back and looks sad at nightmare's cat. Dream can't even help him like this...

Ccino sighs but seems unsurprised "I figured as much... don't feel bad. the vet already tried healing magic himself. I just try to make sure he can relax and rest."

Dream frowns at the door "why keep... my cat version away from him?" doens't he hear how desperate his cat is calling for nightmare's?

Ccino looks to the side and shrugs "i mean... before when these two got near each other your cat would... well... attack... all the time. It was saver for both to keep them seperated. and now wiht him weaker... I just didn't want to risk it." ccino pets the old cat.

Dream's hand forms fists as he glares down. his sockets itch with tears but he forces them in. this isn't about you. this isn't about you. your brother is dying somewhere. this isn't the time to make this about you or your pain. you don't even have the right to feel the pain. you are part if not the whole reason this happened.

Ccino gets up and takes nightmare's cat with him again. Dream wants to stop him. beg him to just let him hold his brother's counterpart. if only for a little while. but he doesn't.

Dream remembers how his own aura and the goop could get when they met in battle. he doesnt want to risk making it worse.

ccino returns to their table. also the other three following him gone again.

Dream feels hopeful and stares at him "his... his gang cats stay with him?"

Ccino blinks but grins "yeah. all the time. there is always at least one wiht him."

Dream sighs and smiles "that is good... that... that should mean he has them with him now right? that he isn't alone?" at least?

Ccino shrugs "it means there is no animosity between them all. that they all care. that is all i am sure about."

drema nods and rubs his arm "why... why don't people remember this? I get why you don't tell but how come no one notices?"

ccino shrugs "i am not sure how. people just don't. if anyone is willing to hurt someone within the cat group? they just.. don't notice or remember. it is why i am even willing to have this conversation. you remembering implies you won't hurt him."

dream feels himself relax and nods "i won't" never again.

Ccino nods "i figured... but that is what i know. i don't have any othr information for you."

dream smiles "that is okay... he is alive... and most likely not alone. that is more than i knew before." he may not be able to find nightmare fast. but he has a place where he can go to check if nghtmare is still alive. and then while he waits for their meeting. Drema can work on himself.

He can work on teaching the multiverse the truth and find his own calling.

Dream can work on his own trauma nad heal.

All while he searches for his brother.

This? This just showed that it isn't too late. His brother is still somewhere and there is time to fix this mess.

It won't be easy. but he can fix this. and that gives him hope.

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

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[sakura-hayashii]

sadly, i think some people are put on this earth just for the sole purpose of healing others regardless of how much pain they endure. some people are just meant to give more love than they will ever receive.

- S.H.

[surreal-duck]

good morning!

[paintedpeeta]

I know everyone loves talking about Katniss and Peeta being affectionate in everyday life and mirroring her parents, but I also go crazy about them being affectionate and Peeta realizing he has a safe home filled with love unlike his parents. I just imagine him remembering his parents just tensely being with each other and contrasting that with him and Katniss who are always touching in some way and greet each other with kisses and hugs.

no because throughout the first two books he’s so physically affectionate to her (even though i’d assume this isn’t learned behaviour from his home) can you IMAGINE what it’s like when they’re safe and living together and in an established relationship? when he realises that she enjoys and takes comfort from his affections??

[thranduel]

You're right. I can be better than him.

[usefulquotes7]

I'm in pain because the day is ending and somehow l am never healing. Anne Sexton, A Self-Portrait In Letters

[spliqi]

healer higuchi theory is waking me up to all kinds of higusano possibilities. if she really was assigned to akutagawa because of his illness then that would mean it’s both of their jobs to heal people who are on the verge of death. hmm

[marxism-transgenderism]

.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Part of me looks at resist Durge and thinks "healing and happiness".

The other part of me looks at them and thinks "massive, bloody relapse". Maybe join a new horrible cult to fill the void left by Father.

I mean it's probably more of a journey wobbling between the two over the years and hopefully settling into "healing and happiness", but still.

[angelnumber27]

It’s so embarrassing and heartbreaking being in so much pain over losing someone while knowing they don’t give a fuck if you live or die. Your favorite person becoming a stranger is a special kind of hell.