#I love writing dream sequences

[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

#you’re the wife who played my actor :( #posthumus #asteroid city #imagine youre in love with a playwright and he writes a play before he even meets you about how you cant get over his death which hasnt #happened yet. id go insane too #im going to see it again to see how this informs the whole thing because its driving me crazy #rewatching the performances knowing that they're performing people performing. augh. #remember when bryan cranston accidentally appears in frame. rending my garments #also ‘you cant wake up until you fall asleep’ confused me a bit but then i remembered that the margot robbie scene was supposed to be put o #as a dream sequence and it makes sense now. thanks #aliens are the new fairytale monster symbol of death. the ultimate Unknowable #EDIT okay i read the wikipedia summary got some facts wrong adrien brody is sleeping in the theatre during rehearsals so its not because of #the playwright’s death he’s just like that.

[hypostatic-oath]

I've started playing Honkai Star Rail and I love how dramatically silly it lets me be. So far I have stolen mail, searched garbage cans, entered a closet to become one with the darkness, waxed on about how life is just a road to death to a terrified guy (somehow that seemed to make him less terrified), bowed in respect to a dumpster, investigated an inconspicuous lamp so many times it got mad at me, investigated a trash can so many times it insulted me, and felt bad for two different trash cans and several sandbags (I believe my Trailblazer is going insane from putting up with me). All this not counting with the countless dialogue options with NPCs around the world that allowed me to be incredibly dramatic (think almost Fischl style) for no reason (you can bet I took them). However, I cannot jump or climb, and fights are turn-based... we respect our opponents in Star Rail (and die. A lot).

What I conclude from this is that while the Traveler has a moral code (and some standards) when dealing with interpersonal interactions but isn't bound by physical restrictions or conventions (stairs? The Traveler does not understand that concept. Fair fights? Please, they don't have time for that), the Trailblazer is the exact opposite. The physical rules may hold them but their only ties to social rules or convention so far have been March and Dan Heng saying "hey, maybe don't fight the guards" and "hey, you can't just accept random jobs".

It also might be because the Traveler is a thousand year old entity that has been through A Lot (has learnt the power of friendship, but is too tired to take the long route) and is on a serious mission while the Trailblazer was quite literally Born Yesterday with the sole purpose of housing a massive problem inside their body (walks and fights like a Normal Person bc they're mimicking everyone else, but is absolutely unhinged) and is just having fun with tjeir newfound existence.

Either way I love both of them and they're basically cryptids but in different ways.

#the Traveler gives off ''i'm too old for this'' enegry but also ''If I don't fix it who will'' #while the Trailblazer is the most chaotic neutral mf I've ever seen and I love them so much #hoyoverse mcs my beloved #When I started genshin I expected a soft game with silly moments and was instead met with pain #Also I love how powerful the traveler has become (I like to believe they're just recovering the power they used to have) #The Traveler holds the braincell between these two btw #I want to understand Star Rail lore better so I can write smth abt the two of them meeting in like a dream sequence kind of thing #when I started genshin I expected haha funny colorful game but was met with pain and post-apocaliptic worlds and cataclysms #when I started star rail I expected pain and apocalyptic worlds and cataclysms and was met with THE ABILITY TO BE SILLY #I CAN HIDE IN CLOSETS #fun fact: i started playing both games for the Hot Dragon Men #also: in mondstadt there's a goth hotel (the hotel is named goth but doesn't seem to have ties to goth culture) #and in star rail there is a goethe hotel that is pronouced rather similarly. both are family establishments and both are ran by an old man

[roetrolls]

I need. To write a villain who delights in being evil again.

#harlan was so so fun to write #and i love both the icarus and dream sequence arcs #but i havent really gotten to hold the bad guy in a while!!!! #i have an idea for a drabble about the ophidian #maybe i do him.... #or i could do........ more ben memories? #hmmmmm #acorvi maybe? #rubs my chin #i need to write someone being unabashedly evil

[browniefox]

You’re in a strange courtyard. You do not recognize it, but it feels oddly familiar.

You look down and see you’re reflection. You’re wearing a golden dress. A crown lies upon your head. The gold is all glowing, and you give a twirl, splashing in the liquid at your feet. It’s only then you realize your reflection is coming from a pool of blood. You look behind you.

There is a hare sitting on top of a dead child. It, too, is golden, with shiny fur and bright purple eyes. The longer you stare, however, the less sure you are it’s really a hare. It’s eyes are sharp, hold intelligence. It takes a few hops forwards, and you realize the shiny fur is actually dull, that there is blood all over its mouth, that it looks like a dead and rotting creature that somehow still moves.

Your father showed you Monty Python and the Holy Grail when you were young. Any dirty jokes went over your head, but you liked some of other comedy bits. You can remember the part where the knights need to get past a terrible beast that looks like a cute little white rabbit. You laughed so much at the cartoonish blood and action, and you dad had laughed along. The sight before you reminds you of that, but something about this feels oddly more real. Why does a laugh still build in your throat?

(You once laughed at a horror movie in the same way, as blood gushed from a poor dumb victim of the murderer. Your date had slowly pulled his arm off your shoulders, and a few days later he broke up with you. After that you watched horror movies alone.)

You stare at each other for a minute before the hare takes off, fast fast fast into the woods. You do not hesitate to chase after it.

Through the trees and shadows, the rabbit flees and you chase, panting and gasping but refusing to let it out of sight. Your hands are full of your golden dress skirts, which despite your best efforts are becoming dirty and torn. The hare leads you to a large meadow, and you can see glints of fur through the long grasses. You’re getting slower and it is only getting faster.

That is when you feel the ground shaking beneath you. You turn around just in time to throw yourself out of the way of a beast.

At first you think it’s a giant black bear, but closer inspection shows that there is something inside the bear fur and skin, something with long black and white tendrils that almost puppeteer the bear skin around. Atop the not-bear sits a figure, riding the huge monsterous thing. A white mask with purple tear marks adorns her face. She does not look at you, too focused on chasing after the golden hare, hands tight on a set of reigns.

After her is a other impossibly large bear, this one with two heads that bite at each other. Two riders are on this one, both with golden bear masks to match their mount.

Many more beasts ride on, a hunting party. All their mounts are monsters of animals that are made too big, given too many fangs and claws, look stitched together or dying or already dead. Chickens and rabbits and foxes and bears. But they all run swiftly, faster than your legs can carry you. You also realize that every rider wears a mask, and that they are all children, their innocent youth hidden behind the terrifying masks they put on.

Bringing up the rear of the hunting party is an adult man, who comes to a sudden halt right before you. His mount has three heads. The rabbit and bear heads are surprisingly docile. The middle fox head, though, looks older and far more scarred and snaps at you, just barely too far to actually catch you in it’s large and sharp teeth. The mask worn by this rider is an almost childish white bear mask. You can see his hands and the edges of his face, though, and that he is a rotted corpse of a human, a surprising reversal of the children riders.

“Well?” he says.

“What?” You do not know what he wants from you.

“Will you take up your mask and join the hunting party?”

They are hunting a hare. It should remind you of a silly old cartoon, or maybe the Aesop fable; it feels very far from that.

“I am not a hunter,” you say.

“And yet you chase our quarry,” the man replies.

“I will be a hare,” you tell him. He studies your face. You can see, just barely, purple eyes looking at you from behind the mask.

“You will not keep up,” he tells you, “At best, you will for a while. And then he will bite your leg and leave you to be trampled by the rest. Or you will fall behind, and if you are not running with him, you are chasing, you are hunting,”

“I will be a hare,” you assert again. The rider shifts his hold on his reigns, and you realize they are not leather. They are chains, shackled to his wrist and sunken into the flesh of his mount.

“Wear your mask and run then, little hare; the hunt does not cease. Lead or chase; the choice will be made for you.”

He spurs his mount on. The fox head yowls and spits but its legs run again to catch up with the rest.

You look down and there’s a mask in your hands. You cannot tell whether it is a hare, like the hunted, or a rabbit, like many of those forced to hunted.

Red blood splashes at your heels; the pool from the dead child’s body had still grown, and it reaches you again.

You jolt awake from the dream, heart pounding in your chest.

You try to fall back asleep and ignore the mask that you know sits in your bag at the foot of your bed.

#browniefox speaks #fnaf #vaguely #shell game #shell game spoilers #vanessa #Michael afton #was listening to ghost riders in the sky #and got possessed to write this #I love dream sequences #browniefox writes

[hailsatanacab]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Danny Fenton & Damian Wayne, Batfamily Members & Danny Fenton Characters: Danny Fenton, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne are Twins, Danny Fenton Needs A Hug, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Not Phantom Planet Compliant (Danny Phantom), Bad Parents Jack and Maddie Fenton, Gun Violence, Blood and Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Mugging, Medical Torture, Vivisection Summary:

“If you ever find yourself in danger, go to Bruce Wayne. He will help you.”

His mother had loved him, in her own way. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have helped him escape. If she hadn’t, she would have dragged him back to the League of Assassins, to Grandfather. If she hadn’t, he’d be dead.

She loved him, but she loved the League more.

Jack and Maddie Fenton loved him too, they did, but they loved their work more.

They loved their work more.

--

After his parents react poorly to his reveal, Danny escapes to the only person he thinks can help him - Bruce Wayne. He doesn't know what to expect when he gets there, but it has to be better than where he is, surely? He certainly doesn't expect to be reunited with his long lost twin brother Damian. It's funny how things work out that way.

Danny is 16 years old, not Phantom Planet compliant.

---

Chapter 6!! Chapter 6!! Chapter 6!!

#dp x dc #dpdc #danny phantom #batman #dp dc #guys i've eaten so many maoams today i feel sick #by today i mean in the last hour and by so many i mean four #which isn't a lot in either direction but also they're so sweet #tasty tho #love em #uh idk how people are going to like this chapter - nothing much happens in it #i fucking love dream sequences guys #and i will not apologise for that #you're all just gonna have to live with it #i am filling every fic i write with a nightmare and you can't do shit #nightmares for all! #anyway i'm gonna eat some more maoams #or should i eat fruitella instead?? #my brother got pick and mix guys and he very kindyl gave me some #you know what i loved and what is just never about any more??? #chewits #that funky little dinosaur dragon thing #loved chewits #what's your favourite maoam flavuor? #mine's cherry #ANYWAY GUYS I LOVE YOU LL PLEASE ENJOY THE FIC #can you tell i'm lonely i ramble so much in these tags lmao

[whimsicalcotton]

i got tagged by @viktorniciforov to do the last line game! thanks bro!

i think i'm supposed to give a little context so i'll just say: The Horrors Are Contagious (fucked up dream sequence babeyyyy)

She tries to look back up at him, but she can't tear her gaze away from the hare and its feeble struggle to breathe. "Do you want to hold her?" Chloe nods. And, as he lays it in her waiting arms, she starts to cry. She can feel it so clearly. It's weight — heavy, so much fucking heavier than it should be — fur laden with rain and seawater. Its warmth, or what little it has left. Its movements, weak as they are; hopeless, repetitive twitches as if to bolt from her grasp.  "Don't mind the kicking," her father assures, voice soft. "She doesn't know how to stop fighting, even like this."  She looks into the hare's darkened eyes, finds familiar words bubbling in her throat. "... This is my fault, isn't it?"

and as usual i have,, no idea who to tag so. if you see this and you have a wip going feel free to share some lines!! good luck & happy writing to all ^^

#i have no idea what the rules to this were so i just did what u did and put in a lil chunk. thank u for taggin me tho bro <3 <3 #love me a good heavyhanded fucked up dream sequence. i have way too much fun writing them. shoutout to before the storm for enabling me <3 #i don't. think i have a writing tag anymore it's been ages since i've actually posted it Here #somehow being nervous about it even tho i fully intend to post this elsewhere. weirdo author behavior #anyways. here is a teaspoon of my horrid horrid angst that i'm trying very hard to finish. back to the dumpster i go #nebular.txt

[devilishdelights]

@obm-avenquire YOU!!!! Your art is absolutely phenomenal, and I truly hope you know that! And your writing….(!!!!!!) I just read your fics on ao3. You!!!! SO fucking fantastic at writing first of all!! I love your use of words and how poetic you are, as well as your humor!

…And sleep based sanity depletions… !!!!!!!!!!!! ALL I ever wanted in a fic for obey me.

the horror potential for this game is insane and I get why they didn’t go that route, but god I wish they did. I always imagined a darker version of obey me and in that belphegor absolutely torments the mc in their sleep and dreams, driving them to the point of insanity to get them to let him out (or something along the lines of that) and you! You get it!!! I’m so glad.

adore adore your satan fics, as well as why’s the obey me lore like that. Because yeah. Why is it like that.

Anyway, I would’ve commented on ao3 but I am too lazy to log in so I figured I comment here lol. You’re phenomenal <3<3<3

#the thought is always in my head. belphie. sleep paralysis demon. ykyk. #I love how you get satan <3<3 and how you write out the dream sequences Mc experiences. it’s v relatable by how wacky things can be lol #and horrifying

[wanderingcas]

Day 9 from "the common hours"

Sunlight dimples the sky, clouds casting off into the distance, as far as the eye can see. The man raises his eyebrows at Castiel. 

You’ve been seeing him again, haven’t you? 

#lineaday #the common hours #ok but i loved writing this dream sequence of cas's at the beginning of the chapter i just finished #it might get cut because it's potentially not relevant to this particular chapter but THAT'S OK

[im-smart-i-swear]

What's your favourite FNIN book and why?

IM GLAD YOU ASKED-

its 'trzecia kuzynka'!

it just really stands out of the series, starting with the setting: - instead of Warsaw, a big city, the whole book takes place in the polish mountains(which ones??? who knows. i dont). usually the action of fnin books takes place in a big city(there are exceptions to this rule ofc) but this time the closest urban area is a small town.

the feeling of uneasiness also shows itsel in the book's cast. in most books we have a bunch of reoccuring characters: felix and net's parents, teachers, classmates - but here the only other familiar person is manfred(and even still hes not as prevelant bc theres no internet and stuff). just like the trio, the reader doesnt know anybody. theyre alone. everyone and everything here is strange and the lack of familiar faces only makes it more apparent. theres also the fact that when usually the trio are the best informed and oriented people in a given situation, here theyre.... lost. everyone(alright maybe not everyone, but you get the point) has secrets and hidden motives.

another thing is how the trio separates - although thats not uncommon in fnin, the way they do it is dffrent from usual - instead of net and felix having another one of their dramatic breakups, its nika who distances herself from her friends. thats also another thing i love about 'trzecia kuzynka' - the way it focuses on nika and her relationship with f&n. the change of setting allows for the common 'what if people find out nika is an orphan' thing to fade into the background for once, wnich means theres room to explore other aspects of nikas life and personality. her lack of friends aside from felix&net, her emphaty and selflesnes, her persistance to do the right thing - all those qualities are allowed to shine here and its great!

this book subverts expectations of a long time fnin reader and it feels so fresh and unique beacuse of that. the way the tension gradually builds up as more and more weird things happen makes it so fun to read! and, in a truly shocking twist, morten isnt behind everything this time!!(i know, impossible). even the fact the trio is separated during the finale instead of sticking toghether as per usual - 'trzecia kuzynka' flips the typical fnin formula on its head and i love it.

the new side characters are pretty cool too! when i first read this book, i thought laura's very cool - and honestly i still think that - she has a motive here, shes doing her own thing, and also shes hilarious. the others are pretty entertaining too! oh, and how could i forget - the 'false trio'. oh my frickin god the reveal of them being secret fucking agents was glorious-

and one other thing i have to mention - the horrors. there are times while reading this book when i have to stop and ask myself 'wait.why is this actually scary.' in other books there are moments or longer scary scenes, sure, but the one is dripping with tension and anticipation from start to finish, and the finale is the perfect culmination of that. there are so many scenes that just stuck with me - the graveyard, laura's mam-moth(get it) story, the whole castle sequence(i was a bit uncomfortable tho..), the reveal of the giANT FUCKING *THING* UNDER THE HOUSE-, and of course the entirety of nika's side of the finale!

i have no idea what other people think about this book, but i absolutely love it!(crap now i want to reread it for the gazillionth time)

thank you for the ask!

#fnin #felix net i nika #woagh how did i write so many words this fast. #i. i have THOUGHTS about this frickin book. so many of em.. #i really hope we'll get to see the false trio again one day. that would be nice i think #SHIT i forgot to talk about the third cousin herself... #buuut im kinda cautious about talking about her cause i dont want to accidentally say anything ableist. i dont want to get into all that rn #but i think shes great! the dream sequences especially give her a lot of depth #can you tell from this post wnich one out of the trio is my favourite? #i LOVE nika's portrayal in this book........ #the other two are fine! i love them! but its nika time babey!! #WHY cant i draw her????? felix and net were really easy to figure out but nika is a pain in my ass for some reason. ughahghauhghhh #ask #miiight post a fnin doodle dump later beacuse drawing the silly fictional teenagers is way more fun than. yknow. doing math. in math class.

[poprockspillage]

one thing about me is that i LOVE a dream sequence

#poprock txt #was originally making this just about writing but i remembered i also love them in movies(sometimes) #anyway i posted this bcs i realized i our dream sequences in most stories i write lol

[mangle-my-mind]

Okay the thing I love about All That Jazz (1979) is how eager Bob Fosse is to absolutely roast himself for two hours. Like he doesn’t pull any punches. Sure, he was a genius and a talent and a brilliant choreographer, but he was also a womanizer and a cheat and a disappointment of a father, and it’s all there in the movie. 

#that must've been an absolute trip to write and direct #it's an autobiography with dream sequences #and so many people involved in the production were already close with Fosse #Ann Reinking basically playing herself in the movie? ingenious move #also i love how Fosse unashamedly roasts more traditional family-friendly Broadway shows #because that really is how I feel about his style #it feels more controversial than other Broadway choreography #really just want everyone to watch All That Jazz and recognize how well Bob Fosse made movies

[dawsonscreekwasalwaysbad]

is there a fanfic where advanced introduction to finality is like. actually good

#community #advanced introduction to finality #maybe this is just my love for dream logic talking but i feel like this episode COULD have been halfway decent #if you took out the paintball that barely qualifies as paintball #and made it revolve more heavily around jeff's emotional conflict instead of making that an afterthought #and ik it's stupid for jeff to know so much about the darkest timeline that he constructs an entire dream sequence around it #but i do like that it furthers the idea that he and abed have more in common than jeff is willing to admit #but again it only works if you completely ignore the logic of it #also i dont really like fanfic #reading or writing it #so good luck lol #phoebe talks

[cuddleswinchester]

Time for an excerpt from my current wip, a largely epistolary post-canon M*A*S*H novel. Mulcahy has been writing to Hawkeye about nightmares he has been having, where all he can hear is screaming. Hawkeye offers to come by and have a word with him, in his dreams, and Mulcahy is surprised the trick works:

***

Mulcahy worried about Hawkeye, he truly did. Feeling isolated and pitied and useless, away from home. He hoped his letters provided comfort, as Hawkeye’s did for him. In this regard, they had more in common than anyone else from the unit.

His thoughts always wound their way back to the unit.

He was rising from his nightly prayer, grabbing the bed-frame to aid his stiff knees, and he could not help but send off well wishes for his 4077 fellows. They were not an afterthought, but an added and equally important bead on his rosary. Naturally, when he fell asleep, his thoughts proceeded on the same course.

This time, he could hear Hawkeye. It felt as though he was being stirred awake, touched on the arm, gently patted and shook, perhaps even embraced, and then Hawkeye was standing over him. He had fallen asleep in the OR, where it was, for a change, silent and still. Hawkeye was being helped into a scrub-gown by a nurse Mulcahy did not recognize, even when she stepped forward to offer him a gown, too. They were getting ready for a single patient, after a day of disuse, and it appeared Hawkeye had drawn the short straw.

“Father,” Hawkeye was saying. The word only came into clarity after Mulcahy looked at the man’s lips.

“I wish you’d call me Francis.”

“I’m gonna need your help with this case, Francis.”

“Anything. Anything at all,” vowed Mulcahy.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hawkeye replied. “I need you to get a deaver retractor, good and clean, and then hold it right-hereabouts, steady–” he gestured around his midsection, and Mulcahy nodded in confirmation. “Good. I’ll be right here.”

Mulcahy spun around, finding himself momentarily in the Scrub Room, where the requested instrument was waiting for him in the sink basin. For good measure, he scrubbed it well with soap and water, dipped it in alcohol, wiped it dry along the cleanest towel he could find, and then returned to the Operating Room.

Hawkeye was on the table, still in the fresh gown, holding the anesthesia mask up to his own face.

“Is it clean? You’re sure?” Hawkeye’s voice was muffled, but Mulcahy could still make out the message.

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

Satisfied with Mulcahy’s word, Hawkeye nodded firmly, and withdrew a scalpel from his coat pocket, making the incision upon himself. Mulcahy gasped but tried to remain focused. Where was his mask? He covered his mouth with his hand, embarrassed.

“Put your hand in there,” Hawkeye directed, looking down at his wound. “Retract it. Wide, wide! We need to get all of me out.”

“What?”

“Where am I? Why am I always late?” Hawkeye grumbled. “I’m not gonna get another chance at this. A total selfectomy. I need you to help me here, Francis.”

“Yes, whatever you say.”

Rationally, Mulcahy expected to see organs when he glanced down into the retracted wound. Intestines, kidneys, he had seen plenty in his time… but all he saw now was a void, black instead of blood-red, deep and unending, boring right through the table and the floor beneath. He put his hand into it, and suddenly he could not hear Hawkeye’s instructions anymore. Then Hawkeye surrendered to the anesthesia, and Mulcahy could not hear anything. He retracted and reached in and scooped nothingness from the gaping wound. His hand trembled around his rosary, and he found the cross itself to be a pointed needle. He scored Hawkeye’s skin with it, dragging the tether of beads through the wound in a vain attempt to close it, before the nothingness consumed them both.

If Hawkeye screamed, Mulcahy did not hear it.

From this iteration of the recurrent dream, he awoke with a start. Breathing hard, he fumbled for the lamp on his bedside table, pulling the chain to ignite it, splashing light over the Bible and the notepad he kept underneath the shade.

“Oh, my…”

He wrote down every detail he could recall to send to Hawkeye, wondering what he or Dr. Freedman might make of it.

#mash #fanfiction #father mulcahy #hawkeye #shocker it means they’re gay #Sidney is gonna take one look at this letter and say I don’t do dream interpretations but also he’s obviously in love with you next question #the format is weird I’m sorry #i love writing dreams and MASH blesses us with really cool dream sequences so it was fun to work in that style

[marvus-xoloto]

me in the middle of writing a fic, three drabbles, and drafting a few things on the side: so hear me out, what if i wrote-

#i reread one of caity/popcorn-kittens fics last night and I'm feeling INSPIRED #Because i think the romance between mspar mallek and marvus WOULD be so messy #and. well I'm a simple being. i love the drama. and i want to write the drama #also I've been saving this dream sequence for something and it might be fun to explore some voodoo stuff??? #also #i want to practice more ''dating sim'' style things #bc my next planned big project is this clown-slash-noir visual novel-slash dating sim #which i love in concept but. haven't had any energy to make it clever yet #silas.txt

[vampirepuppygirl]

I had a really cool dream last night

I won't be able to share all the details cause it's too long and would take forever, but here's the shortened version

In the dream I was visiting this huge vampire castle because I had stumbled upon a long line of elegantly dressed people waiting to be approved to enter. The castle was like, a place where vampires and undead could gather and have huge balls and banquets and play games, where all the undead in all the land gathered under the rule of a single vampire lord. The castle was huge and black and Gothic and steeped in magic, and ghosts and other such things were everywhere too.

I didn't have the privilege of being invited, so I snuck my way in by getting the help of someone who did have privilege. I don't remember her name, but she was very kind. She basically got me inside by saying I worked for her, and then led me to the servant area so I could steal one of the extra outfits to blend in while pretending to be one of the servants.

As I was exploring the castle, I ended up meeting the vampire lord who ruled the castle, who immediately took a liking to me and wanted to make me into one of his servants officially, since I was already wearing the outfit and performing a servant's job. (I don't perfectly remember what that job was, but I think it was in reference to a room that I entered that was absolutely filthy, and for some reason I took personal offense to it and decided to clean it in its entirety myself, until it was spotless and shiny.)

I was originally hesitant about becoming the vampire's servant, but he explained that as long as I fulfilled my duties I had pretty much free reign in the castle to do what I wanted and as long as I asked permission and set a timeframe to return I could leave the castle at any time, within reason. I ended up deciding it was actually a rather good arrangement and I agreed, which he seemed to be rather happy about.

He pretty much immediately started calling me "his girl" once I agreed, which was embarrassing, but he did the thing where he gingerly grabbed my chin and made me face him after I turned away and basically went "You're mine now, feel proud, not embarrassed. It's a great privilege to be one of my girls, and you've earned it."

He also explained that part of the process of becoming his servant officially required me to die during a full moon as he drank my blood in order for me to become undead like everyone else. That was both so I could live forever with everyone at "the peak of my beauty" according to him, and also to prevent the castle guards and things from attacking me for being alive, especially during the day when everyone was asleep.

One of really nice parts of my dream that made me feel really good was everybody knew I was trans but didn't care. In fact, I had multiple people help me figure out what pretty dress and other things to wear to prepare for the conversion ceremony and the castle master kept calling me a pretty girl and both he and some of the other vampires got a little handsy with me as part of the "inspection" process, which I think may have just been an excuse to get familiar with my body.

The conversion ceremony was held in a huge garden, with large water fountains and gorgeous flowers everywhere, and it started with a big, dramatic, embarrassingly long speech about how it was fate that brought me here, and how he knew that I belonged to him from the first time he saw me, and basically just driving the point home that he owned me now, in front of his entire court. Then he bit into my neck and began to drain me of my blood, which was a surprisingly pleasurable experience that made my eyes flutter and my knees weaken to the point where I had to wrap my arms around him for support.

Eventually I began to grow cold as he began to grow warm, which further increased my desire to cling to him as he fed, until I was too weak to do anything and everything went black. I woke up later in a huge crimson bed with no heartbeat and pale skin, and a fresh set of clothes set out for me to wear. I got out of the bed, dressed myself, and left the room, to be immediately greeted by the vampire lord, who seemed to be waiting for me. He called me beautiful again, and kissed me, and as he was about to explain my new duties and things my alarm went off and I was startled awake.

It was a really cool dream, and I've never had a dream like that before. Everything was so vivid, I can still clearly imagine the black marble that decorated the floor and walls and I can still feel the vampire lord's lips on my neck. It made me feel very pretty and cute.

#lila speaks #dream #vampire #writing #not sure what else to tag this with but that's all that's relevant #feel free to share thoughts or opinions and such about my dream #I love listening to what people think #this was such a cool dream #and there's more to it too! I rode on a huge steel ride that was set up in the back like a huge amusement park #and I also had an entire sequence where I didn't know what changing room to use to put on clothes for the ceremony #and someone just approached and went 'you're a girl right? use the girl one!' #and I explained why I was hesitant (being trans) and they just went #'sure but if you're a girl use the girl one' and something clicked in my head and I was just kinda like 'oh' #and then they helped me pick out a dress

[anonymous-dentist]

in chapter 14, when YD!sapnap describes his dreams about school, is the second half also a memory or more symbolic?

Oh, it's a bit of both. Let me grab the section again since I have the doc up now.

Second is the school. It’s the classroom he met Dream in, the one reserved for the “problem children” that weren’t allowed to eat lunch with everybody else. Back then, Dream had dropped into the seat next to Sapnap and had stolen his apple slices and had started rambling about ducks for some fucking reason; Sapnap still doesn’t know why that was how he decided to introduce himself. Now, Sapnap stands alone in an empty classroom covered in cobwebs and spattered with black blood and gore and ash. There is a stake in his hand and a heart clenched between his teeth and a hand on his shoulder digging its nails in, a familiar voice in his ear telling him that he’s doing such a good job.  

Now, a good chunk of this is memory. This is where he first met Dream a long time ago, and it's where they became friends. They were both problem kids in school: Sapnap kept picking fights with kids because they found out he was adopted and had a problem with it, and Dream had a nasty habit of cheating during speed multiplication tests. They really bonded there over both being "problem kids". God knows Bad kept having heart attacks hearing that his son's new best friend was bullying teachers.

But then again? This is also a nightmare. He has a lot of those all of the time, he's just kind of gotten used to them. But this nightmare, like his others, still takes its more fantastical elements from real life. I won't say what exactly because I maaay have something coming up showing that, but, uh. Well. :) Don't worry about it. He knows that hand and that voice very well. It's just a matter of ignoring the owner for his own sake.

#asks! #anon! #skeleton appreciation day fic #i think the nightmares were my favorite things to describe in this chapter #i love writing dream #sequences they're so fun yk?? #just a bunch of wild shit in the mind #but also it is theorized that dreams are all just memories a bit mixed up and confused in the mind #sooooo