#I struggled so hard with the background too

[annaraebananawriter]

(Request) I Bet You Were the Best Brother

It's been a while since I posted a oneshot, so I hope this 5k one manages to make up for that.

As I've mentioned before, been going through a bit of a writer's block that is finally going away. Some it still lingers, but it is infinitely better. Feels like I can breathe again. So, everyone reading this that struggles with writer's block at the moment--know that it will go away. You will be able to write again. It's not a matter of if, only when. You will be able to write again.

Anyway, I don't have any other major life updates for you, so I guess I'll let you start reading now. Happy reading! Let me know what you thought!!

Fandom: Undertale/UTMV

Characters: Dream and Nightmare (Who belong to Joku)

Warnings: A character losing their memory and swearing and I think that’s it. Let me know!

Summary: Ilike_cringe (Fri 14 Oct 2022): "here is a request :>. Could you make it that nightmare might have hit dream tooo hard in a fight that (bear with me ) Dream lost his memory ( if you could could you add more spice \^o^/)"

Word Count: 5395

~oOo~

Nightmare wanted there to be a note that the fight started off normal.

His gang showed up, causing some ruckus. He hung out in the background observing, soaking in the new misery like a sponge, keeping an eye out for the tell-tale sign that the Star Sanses had shown up. In today’s case, that ended up being an arrow flying at one of his boys, which barely got dodged, the blue glow disappearing as it left eyesight. Grinning, he had taken it as his cue to join in, grabbing Dream by the ankles as he notched another one, and throwing him across the space.

Not too hard, of course. He didn’t want his brother out of commission quite yet. That was always the fun part about the fight, seeing him defeated. It needs to be drawn out a bit, though, for it to be really satisfying.

Dream recovered from the toss quickly, though he was soaked head to toe—he had unintentionally tossed him into the river. Whoops. The annoyed look on his brother’s face made his grin widen even more. They quickly fell into their routine after that, trading blows and insults, slowly moving away from the others. Another toss had them entering the woods, which resulted in a lot of fallen trees, a clear indicator of where they’d gone.

A cliff came into view, with Dream’s back to it. Nightmare didn’t take much note of it at the time, too preoccupied—his brother had just gotten a pretty bad hit to the back of his skull, making him stumble. Pausing for a minute, he gave him some time to get his bearings back before attacking again, pushing him closer to the cliff edge.

So…technically, this whole thing could be considered his fault, but how was he supposed to know what would happen?

The cliff seemed perfectly safe in the normal dangerous way!

This means the fight was going great until the cliff crumbled under Dream’s feet, making him shriek, eyes widening, his bow dispersing as he pinwheeled backward. Nightmare froze, staring at the now absent spot with eyes equally as wide, tentacles raised to strike.

Then it went silent.

 “…shit,” he hissed, automatically turning around in case his brother teleported at the last second to safety. It wouldn’t be the first time, so it shouldn’t be the last time.

No one was there.

He waited.

Still no one.

Maybe Dream was just in shock, still picking himself up. Turning back, Nightmare stepped closer to the cliff, small rocks tumbling after the larger ones from his movements. If he leaned over, he could probably tell…ah, no. Nope, that was just a bunch of trees. His brother was probably under those trees. Probably just picking himself up.

He’ll return in no time.

Nightmare just had to wait.

So, he did.

For one minute. Then two. Then…honestly, he lost track of the minutes after that, glancing back and forth around the clearing, looking over his shoulder at the cliff like Dream would just suddenly appear, having climbed up for some stupid reason. Any minute now, the fight will be back on, continuing as usual…any minute now…

…any minute…

…any—

Okay, so.

Something was wrong.

Turning back to the cliff, he glared at the edge. It was its fault this was happening. Why did it decide to crumble now? Particularly when Dream was on it? Why?

Now his brother was somewhere below, dazed as hell, without the clear thinking necessary to teleport, or injured badly enough to be unconscious—and as soon as that thought popped into existence, he shoved it away, then took time to quell the rising panic in his soul.

No, no, that’s not possible. Dream’s far more durable than that. Sure, it’s a cliff, and cliff’s cause damage, even to immortal beings, but still. His brother could heal, so shouldn’t that work on himself, make him more…invulnerable, or something? Unless…he couldn’t actually heal himself and he’s just been assuming that he could this entire time…no, that couldn’t be possible. Nightmare’s pretty sure he’d remember that if it were the case.

So…what happened?

Maybe…maybe Dream was just staying down there for a while.

He’ll probably join again in a bit.

Yeah, that’s probably it. So, he should really go back and help his boys. Hey, maybe Dream’s already there! Maybe he went to his friends instead. Makes sense, makes sense…

He should go help his boys now, he’s been standing here too long.

And…he wasn’t moving.

Why wasn’t he moving?

Dream’s fine. He’s back at the main fight. It’s something that’s happened before. It should be something that happened here. It’s fine. He can go back. So…what kept him here, staring around like his brother would magically appear, a tight feeling in his chest that threatened to steal the air away from his non-existent lungs?

Maybe…maybe he should just go down there, check on Dream—

That was another thought pushed away. No, hell no. If he gave in to that though, if he went down there to check, now, after too much time has already passed for that to be considered just moving the fight along, that’d be…that’s cause his brother to hope. Hope that things could go back to the way things were before the apples. He can’t go through the painstaking steps needed to crush that hope, put off the last stubborn spark that remained until he was sure it wouldn’t create another flame. Not again.

Besides, he didn’t even care. Not that much. Sure, yeah, he cared somewhat, always would—that’s just naturally part of being a brother. But the majority of how much he cared was in the past, before everything was plucked off a tree in the form of a black apple and devoured. That care no longer exists, taken over by the need to win all these fights, making the scales tip in his direction.

It just…didn’t exist. He didn’t care.

(Some days, it was harder to convince himself of this fact than others.

This was one of them.)

He didn’t care, so he should so rejoin his boys, and get out of this AU.

This time, he teleported.

It was an easy win. Dream never came back.

When it came time to go home, Nightmare couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering away from his boys, who were celebrating as usual, over to the trees. In the direction of the cliff, even if he couldn’t see it from here.

The tight feeling in his chest squeezed and squeezed. His tentacles flicked nervously behind him. For some reason, he kept thinking that now was the moment his brother would appear, now was the moment he could stop all this silly, stupid worry, go back to being angry. And the longer he looked, the more that thought wavered and shook, gathering speed as it transformed into a tornado that threatened to consume all of his other priorities until he made sure Dream was okay. But the only way to do that was to go and check, and leaving now would just make the boys confused and worried, which he could not handle right now.

Besides, he was sure it was fine.

He got them all home before he could convince himself otherwise, before the urge to make sure was too overpowering. To make sure he was really distracted, he holed himself up in his office, pulling out some paperwork—which wasn’t even real paperwork, just a bunch of sudoku and word searches and other puzzles printed out to make it look like he was working on important stuff.

For the most part, it worked. Kept his mind too busy to think about what happened.

Then he got to one particular word search that—and he is not joking or exaggerating this part—had three words at the bottom for him to find, all in a row, that read: ‘Dream’, ‘injury’, and ‘concussion’. Isn’t that just the strangest collection of words you’ve ever seen? The surreal coincidence of the words made Nightmare stare down at the page for a minute, completely gobsmacked. Who the hell was writing these word searches, and why the fuck did they include these three specific words on the same one?

It was like a sign or something…

Sneering, Nightmare tore the word search up into tiny pieces, sitting back in his chair, spinning around and around. Trying very hard not to think about the three words. And how his brother never came back. And how the yelp he let out when he fell just fell silent and how he never bothered to check and—

And now he was thinking about it.

“Fuck.”

Growling to himself, he stopped spinning in his chair. Then, he promptly stood and teleported back to the AU.

Leaning over the cliff again, he teleported down. His brother wasn’t anywhere in the immediate proximity—though, why would he be? This was all just a waste of time—so he started walking around, ducking under some tree branches. When he fell, Dream would’ve had to have landed somewhere around here…though he still wasn’t sure why he was searching.

His brother was probably gone by now. His friends probably came to collect him.

Why did he think he’d find him here, lying on the ground as if nothing happened? As if he just decided to take an impromptu nap, in the snow and in wet clothes and…

Oh. Oh, shit.

That was actually Dream lying there in front of him.

Fuck.

Almost tripping over himself, Nightmare hurried over, falling to his knees beside his brother. His hands hovered in the air around him, unsure what to do. “Dream?” he called, hoping to wake him up. Nothing happened.

Dream didn’t move.

For a soul-stopping moment, Nightmare actually thought he might be dead. Panic swirled in his chest, choking him, until he remembered that if they were dead, their body would turn to dust. Presumably, anyway, since they had no real way of knowing that until they…y’know…actually died, but still. The thought allowed him to gather himself enough to Check his brother, make sure of it. It said he was fine, if missing a chunk of health.

Nightmare breathed out, hating how shaky it was. “Idiot, making me worry for nothing…” he muttered to himself, looking down at his brother, frowning. Shaking his shoulder, he raised his voice a bit, eager to wake him up, make sure he left to wherever, hopefully back to his friends, and get home himself before his boys wondered where he went off to. “Dream. Wake up.”

No response. Dream was still. Breathing—he double-checked, just to be sure—but still.

Frowning, he shook him again, rougher. Still nothing.

Even unconscious, his brother insisted on being annoying. Scowling, he sat back on his heels. “If you don’t wake up, I’m going to kick you.”

Nothing.

Welp. His hand was forced.

Standing, Nightmare kicked Dream in the side—not too hard, of course, he’s not a complete monster. Just enough that he woke up.

Which he did.

Finally.

Nightmare rolled his eye to himself, crossing his arms as he watched his brother groan, coming to. A hand half-raised to his head before stopping, eyes blinking open and squinting against the light. His eyelights were paler than normal, just a hair bigger, too. He could see the exact moment they focused in, his brother clocking that there’s someone standing above him, but Dream didn’t panic, didn’t seem to be anything more than confused.

Dream blinked again. “Hi.”

Nightmare raised a brow bone. Seriously? That’s it? He fought the urge to roll his eye again. “What are you still doing here?”

His brother seemed to get more confused. “What?”

Wondering if the fall knocked loose some brain cells, Nightmare scowled. “What do you mean, ‘what’? You know what. What are you still doing here? This is, like, the most uncomfortable spot to have a nap.” Without waiting for him to answer, he continued, waving a hand around. He couldn’t let the opportunity to mock him go by. “And why didn’t you rejoin the fight? I thought you had a duty to protect the positivity in the multiverse.”

“Um…” Dream blinked for a third time, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He laughed, nervously, like a reflex, and when he opened his eyes again, they were fuzzy again. “Sorry, you went a bit fast for me there. Could you repeat that?”

Ugh. Now he was just being difficult.

“You’re so annoying.” Nightmare said, stepping away. “Just get up and get out of here.”

Looking up at him, the words seemed to take a few minutes to sink in. Then, nodding, Dream tried to stand, movements jerky, as if he was figuring out how to move them for the first time again. When he stood, he wobbled, tilting over a bit before righting himself.

Nightmare realized he had stepped forward, ready to catch him should he fall, and retreated, tucking his hands back into his arms.

Damnit. He was slipping. He had to get out here, fast.

“I’m alright.” Dream said, clearly noticing his misstep. He was smiling. Nightmare had to look away before the sight made him feel warm inside. “Just a bit dizzy.”

“Whatever,” Nightmare said in return, leaving it at that.

Still smiling, his brother shifted on his feet, looking down at his hands and clenching them into fists a couple of times. His gaze wandered back up to him, and then away, looking around them with a curious, still confused, look. It was almost like he was trying to figure out where he was, as if he wasn’t just in a fight here earlier.

He couldn’t have forgotten that fast, could he? And what was he still doing here?

Shouldn’t he be opening a portal by now?

“What are you waiting for?”

Snapping back to look at him, Dream didn’t seem to understand the question. “Huh?”

Waving a hand again, tentacles flicking behind him, Nightmare’s scowl deepened. Why the fuck was he acting so weird? “Open a portal already and go home. Your friends are probably worried sick by now.”

(He ignored the voice in his head that said he was starting to get worried, too.)

“Right, right.” Dream nodded, trying and failing to look like he knew what he was talking about. “A portal…see, um, I would do that…but, uh…” Looking around again, shifting some more, his smile turned sheepish. “Well, I don’t remember, exactly, how to do that.”

Nightmare did not return the smile, unamused. He just stared.

What the fuck? What was he playing at? What was the point in drawing all this out? Nostalgia? What did he get out of acting so weird? What was going on here?

“Do you think this is a fucking game?” Nightmare asked, voice slipping off into a growl. His tentacles moved restlessly. He was getting agitated now. He just wanted to go home, get back to his puzzles, and maybe sleep for a week. But no, he was here, playing along with this stupidness, unable to get a grasp on what was happening.

Dream looked alarmed, holding his hands up and shaking them furiously. “No! No—”

“Then why the fuck are you wasting my time? I come out here, in the middle of the evening, to make sure you’re good, and you decide to, what, pull a joke on me?” Unable to curb his irritation, he shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. “Stars, I hate you. I’m reminded now why I don’t bother doing this for you. You never take it seriously.” Turning he started to walk away, hearing Dream stutter excuses behind him.

He didn’t want to hear any excuses. He was done. He was going home.

“It’s not—I’m not joking,” Dream called after him, footsteps crunching on the snow as he chased after him.

“Of course, you are!” Nightmare sighed, in annoyance or anger or both of them combined. He didn’t care anymore. “You always are!” He didn’t bother stopping or turning around. Just continued on. And then he remembered he didn’t have to walk away at all, could just make a portal out. Turning his annoyance to himself, he raised a hand to do so—

“I don’t remember that.”

—and stopped.

The statement struck the right chord, making something inside him fall to the pit of his stomach, pricking him uncomfortably. Slowly, he turned to face Dream again, paying more attention. “…what?”

“I—I don’t remember that,” Dream said, tone so genuine, eyes so wide and confused and even scared that it seemed to create a physical attack on his soul. Raising a hand, his brother held it to his head. “I thought if I waited a bit, I might remember something, but I don’t. It’s all just…blank. I don’t know anything you’re talking about, like the fight or my friends. I place any faces to them or names or anything.” He let his hand fall, shaking his head as he turned his gaze down to his feet, speaking softly. “I just don’t remember.”

The words pushed Nightmare out of the present, sending him spiraling into the black hole opening in his ribs, right where his soul is. They pressed in on him, reverberating, turning into a high pitch that buzzed inside him, threatening to cut off his breath.

He didn’t want to believe the words. In fact, he was trying his absolute best not to. Excuses flew through, nitpicking through the explanation and finding words that betrayed the real truth. He told himself over and over that no matter what, no matter how injured he got, Dream would never allow this to happen. His brother would hold onto himself with an iron grip, too desperate to let go, and the Multiverse would allow him to hold on because it was just another being that favored him. They would not let their favorite Guardian lose his precious memories, not for all the stories it brought them.

No, it just wasn’t possible. He was lying—though the reason why was unclear, and nothing could really justify it, he had to be lying. It was a trick, a ploy, maybe even a trap. Yes, that’s it. Any minute now, the other Star Sanses would jump out, pull their weapons, and Dream would drop this façade and go back to pleading with him and when it didn’t work, when Nightmare lashed out in anger, he would pull out his bow and—and—

It just---it had to be a trick.

It had to.

It…

His eyes didn’t look like he was lying, though.

No matter how long he searched, how close he looked, it was a blank sheet of gold. He found confusion, yes, he found anxiety—nothing new there—but he did not find any recognition. Hope and helplessness, but no relief in having someone he knew find him. Even now, as his brother looked around the clearing, he only saw curiosity, as if he hadn’t seen this place before, as if he had just arrived, as if he had just woken up and was in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces. The eyes came back to his, smiled at him, and—

And they were still blank.

A ghost.

The black hole in his ribs widened, pulling him in faster. Digging his heels in, he resisted with everything he had, swimming back out. He had to confirm this, he told himself, had to make sure this was the truth. If there was any chance he did remember, whether that be his friends or his title or Night—

Well, Nightmare just had to find it. He had to.

He heard himself speak before he was fully back in his body. “Did you hit your skull?”

“Ah, maybe?” Dream tilted his head, reaching around to the base of it before retracting quickly, wincing. “Yes. Yeah, I did.”

“Turn around.”

Obedient, Dream did, and Nightmare stepped closer, observing the crack. It wasn’t as bad as he was expecting—certainly not as big—but it was still enough to make bile climb up the back of his throat. Swallowing it down, he darted his gaze around it, taking in the gaping black hole, about the size of a cherry, thinner cracks webbing out from around it. It had blood crusted on the edges, and he was sure that if he took the time to look around the cliff, he’d find matching spots.

Absently reaching out, he traced along the wound with his fingers. Stars, how he wished he knew how to heal. This would be so much easier.

Dream pulled away after his fingers made contact, and he let his hand fall as he turned back, already apologizing. “Sorry! Sorry, that just…really hurt.” He laughed again, but it petered out as he caught sight of Nightmare’s face. “Oh…that bad of a sight, huh?”

“You said…” Nightmare swallowed again, ignoring those words. “You said you don’t remember anything?” The feeling in the pit of his stomach clenched.

“No.” Oblivious, Dream shook his head. “The latest memory I have is of you standing over me. Before that…” Tilting his head again, his brother thought about it, ultimately coming up with nothing. No spark in his eyes. “Nothing.” He looked regretful, like he wished he could be of more help. “Sorry.”

There he went again, apologizing.

Nightmare was going to have to have a talk with him about that. He can’t keep saying sorry for things that he didn’t need to say sorry for in the first place.

First, however, was dealing with—this.

“So…” He didn’t want to ask the next question. It burned in his throat, made his tongue curl in preparation, the words too ugly to even think about. Why did it need to be said? He already knew the answer to it. Why did he insist on asking it when he knew what was going to be said? He would rather them stand like this forever than ask it.

That was a risk, though. And he would really like to get some sleep tonight—even if that might be impossible the longer this sank in. They should really wrap this up soon.

That meant asking uncomfortable questions.

Swallowing himself down, Nightmare let the question go. It couldn’t hurt to ask, anyway. “You don’t remember me?” The words lingered in the air, an odd hint of emotion to them, something fragile and vulnerable.

(He knew the answer to why he wanted to ask this.

Somehow, somewhere inside him, there was still a need that maybe something would be remembered. If the longer they talked, the greater the chance the memories would just snap back into place. That the hollow feeling of having someone you grew up with look at you like one would a stranger would disappear, replaced by joy or anger or tears, anything else.

Inside, if nothing else, he needed there to be a chance he’d be remembered.)

It felt like hope.

“No.” Dream answered, the shaking of his head feeling like salt poured into open wounds. He seemed disappointed in himself, upset he couldn’t help. For him, this was failing at giving someone what they wanted.

For Nightmare, this was confirmation.

(It felt like denial.)

(There was a stinging in his chest. Where did it come from?)

“Where you someone important?”

Nightmare automatically bristled. “I—” He stopped himself, glaring down at the ground while clenching his jaw.

His instinct was to say that, of course he was. He was Dream’s brother. They grew up together. They were, still are, two halves of the same coin, two halves to the same balance. Despite everything, that had to mean something.

But that wasn’t the truth, was it?

Not anymore.

Maybe one time, before The Incident, before the villagers came to them. It was just the two of them, after all. And Mother, but she couldn’t really say much, or do anything beyond existing. Maybe then they were each other’s most important person. And maybe it would’ve stayed that way had everything not gone to shit.

But the point was, that was in the past.

Whatever they had, it was gone. In more ways than one now…

Inhaling, Nightmare looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. “That…depends on your definition of important.”

They had other people in their lives now. He had his gang, his boys. Though he often complained about their foolishness and called them idiots, not once had he ever wished he hadn’t met them. Dream, he knew, felt much the same about Ink and Blue. Neither of them would trade their friends for the world.

Even for each other.

“I was—” Nightmare sighed, rolling back his shoulders. “I’m your brother. Nightmare.” He forced himself to look back at Dream, even if the eye contact burned his soul with something uncomfortable. “Your name is Dream, by the way. In case you forgot that, too.”

“Cool!” Dream paused and gasped, beaming as he made the connection. “Our names match!”

“Yeah.” Nightmare said, forcing himself to smile back. “Yeah, they do.” Of course they did, he thought to himself. That’s the reason why they chose the names.

Brow furrowing, Dream tilted his head. “Wait, if we’re brothers, wouldn’t I just live with you, then?”

“What?” Nightmare felt himself frown in return. “Why do you think we’d live together?”

Strange, considering Dream didn’t even remember him.

(There was that stinging again.)

“I-I don’t know, I just…I have this feeling that brothers should be living together. That they need to live together. I don’t know why, but it’s a very strong feeling.” Dream raised a hand to his chest, hovering over where his soul would be. “When I think about you, um, that feeling gets all…strange.”

This caught his attention. “Strange?”

“Yeah.” Nodding slowly, Dream worked through it, finding what to call it. “I think it…I think it turns jealous, somehow.”

Nightmare stared.

Jealous…?

That couldn’t be right. Dream had to be reading it wrong.

There was nothing to be jealous about. His brother always had the perfect life. What more could he want?

If anything, he should be the one jealous. He’s the only one who deserves to be jealous. Jealous of the way people were always drawn to his brother over himself, the way people thought everything of the sun and nothing of the moon, even though they both shared the same light. It was his right to be envious, his right to look upon the past and view it with bitterness. It was his right to look at the present, now, when Dream still has his friends and his standing and still has everyone revolving around him.

At least he can find relief, find arrogance, in the fact that he found his own friends, his own group of people who looked up to him. It took years, it took work, but he found them.

He didn’t need Dream anymore.

(So, what if sometimes he looked at his brother and his friends and felt a longing to join them?

So, what if he found the way they laughed, the way they treated each other, a reminder that he’s done too many things to be treated like that again?

So, what if he’s tired of fighting all the time and wants to go back to how things were, while knowing that could never happen, while looking across the battlefield into golden eyes that reflected the same kind of feelings and—and…oh.

Oh.

Oh, they would never escape being peas in a pod, would they?)

“Hey, you mentioned my friends, though.” Dream said, brightening up again, looking around like they might just pop up. Not that he would recognize them. “Maybe we could find them and they could help me get home. What do you think of that?”

Maybe, Nightmare thought, looking away as well. He couldn’t lie, it would be nice to leave this place, and dump the responsibility of an amnesiac onto someone else. Especially the Guardians of the Multiverse, the coveted Star Sanses.

But something twisting in his stomach stopped him from agreeing.

He thought, all too suddenly, about how he came back hours later to his brother still lying in relatively the same spot he fell. Meaning Ink and Blue never came back to look for him after they retreated. You’d think, for monsters that claimed to be his best friends, they’d be out here the minute the battle was over, bringing Dream back home to be checked on.

Why should he trust his brother with those two, when they didn’t even search for him? They probably don’t even know he’s missing. They certainly don’t know he’s injured. He can’t help but wonder what their reactions would’ve been to this memory loss.

Too bad he won’t find out.

“I think they’re busy, actually.” Nightmare decided, making a split decision that he hoped wasn’t wrong. “And going to be busy for the week yet.”

 “Oh…”

Dream looked disappointed. Hurt.

The look on his face only solidified Nightmare’s decision. His tentacles curled in satisfaction. “You can come home with me, though. Stay for a bit.”

“Really?” Starting to brighten yet again, Dream seemed to hesitate, searching to make sure he was telling the truth.

“Yeah.”

“Awesome.” Dream’s smile lit up the forest, and Nightmare turned himself away before he found himself getting soft because of it. Raising a hand to open the portal, he heard Dream chuckle behind him. “I gotta say, even though I don’t remember it, I bet you were the best brother ever.”

The words were said so confidently, so…normally…it made Nightmare freeze. The portal wobbled in front of him, but stayed open, and he blinked at it a couple of times before he turned back to his brother.

His mouth was dry, for a reason he couldn’t yet understand.

“What?”

“Well, I mean…it’s like you said. You came all this way, in the middle of the night, to check on me. You were worried. And then, when you found me, you stayed to wake me up, even though you technically already completed your goal. You didn’t just leave. And you checked my injury without me asking you to, and told me my name, and now you’re offering to let me stay at your place.”

Dream’s smile turned smaller, more vulnerable. “It just seems like a very nice thing to do.”

Nightmare’s gaze was frozen, locked onto that genuine, soft smile. The last sentence played on a loop, ringing inside his skull.

A very nice thing to do.

In any other situation, the suggestion would be laughable.

But like this…

(There was that stinging. Again. Why won’t it just go away?)

He thought back to the fight that happened earlier. How he reveled in the pain he caused, how much fun he had taunting his brother. How often he attacked him, without worry or caution. How eager he was to throw him around into trees, back him up into a cliff. He hadn’t even thought about what might happen, too giddy, too smug. All he wanted to do was put him in his place…he hadn’t even cared that he was bleeding…hadn’t even reached out to try and save him when the cliff crumbled…

How long had Dream laid there, in the snow, still in wet clothes?

What did he think as he watched Nightmare watch him fall?

How can that be called nice?

How can what happened during The Incident be called nice? What kind of brother turned his twin into stone, and left him in a dead AU all alone, knowing full well that he would one day return? What kind of brother picked an apple he was supposed to protect in the first place? What kind of brother was he?

Certainly not the kind this Dream was talking about…

“Right.” Nightmare said, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. He understood why this time. He wanted to throw up. “Thanks.”

Dream didn’t notice anything wrong. Still smiling away. As always. Always. “No problem!” Rocking back on his heels, he started to look around as his attention span waned with no portal to go through.

Still, Nightmare did not move to open it.

Instead, he found himself changing tracks. Jumping train from thinking about how bad of a brother he was, to how good of a brother Dream was.

Is.

Was.

Stars, this was so confusing…

“You weren’t that bad of a brother yourself.” Nightmare said, and this time the words were better tasting. At least this way, something true would be said here.

Dream looked back at him, surprised, with a spark of confusion. Then, even if he didn’t know everything Nightmare was talking about, he smiled, taking it as the compliment it was. “Aw, thanks.”

Nodding, Nightmare finally managed to open the portal, letting Dream go through first. He hesitated to follow, looking around the AU again. For some reason, he felt like he would still find his brother, memories and all, waiting for him if he looked hard enough. But he wouldn’t. He knew that.

At least, he had to accept that.

That stinging again…

Showing it down once again, Nightmare turned and went home.

(It’s only after Dream is settled into one of the guest bedrooms—stocked with fresh bedsheets and a fresh pair of clothes for the next day borrowed from Nightmare’s own closet—and he’s back in the safety of his office that he lets his composure finally break. Choking, he slides down his door, hand clasped over his mouth to keep as quiet as possible.

It’s only then that he lets himself cry.

Cry about how he never reached out to catch his brother when he first fell.

Cry about what his brother thought before splitting his skull on a rock.

Cry about the stranger left in his brother’s body.

Cry about everything.)

#my writing #my fanfiction #fanfiction #oneshot #request #undertale #utmv #dreamtale #dream sans #nightmare sans #tw swearing #tw amnesia

[wexhappyxfew]

Oooh, those prompts sure do look amazing… the touch one??? I’m so unsure on which one I might be in a crisis….

Soo… after muuuch deliberation, may ask about nr. 17 (holding the other’s chin up) with my girl Carrie? (I have to stay loyal to her, though I love all the other Silver Bullets girls equally)

Thank you 💖

- Carrie anon

carrie anon my apologies for how incredibly late this is (along with the other prompts sitting in the askbox lol) finals season will forever be a struggle lmao. BUT! i'm taking a mental break and here we are with a piece for my beans, carrie x dougie, carrie anon!! :D VERY excited to post this, we get a bit more with carrie's feelings as she's pretty good at hiding them (but not great with hiding them lol). so please enjoy!!

bergie doesn't strike out

(a/n): for the carrie x dougie girlies because this prompt i enjoyed and i figured i'd add some more to carrie's background - a struggle to fit in, to feel wanted, in a time of war. yeah, she's going through it to say the least and in some way, we all can get why :'( please enjoy!

Carrie watched from behind her shot glass as James Douglass waltzed over to the congregating group of Clubmobile girls and talked his talk, pulling out his lighter and offering to light up cigarettes, only before making quite the show of winking and meandering away back towards where he had been previously stood with Hambone and Murphy. She watched him let out a barking laugh before pointing to their cups and nodding to the bar. And that's when he started waltzing over to the bar, where she was stood, rather enjoying her stare-down with her shot glass instead of having to focus on him.

"Carrie Achterbeg, haven't seen you in a minute." she heard him say as he approached - which albeit was the truth. She hadn't come out to one of these in a couple of weeks. After that awkward misunderstanding with one of the guys from the 418th - radio operator, kind eyes, but horrible ego - after he had tried to plant one on her, she didn't want anything to do with the flying club, drinks and pilots. Tonight though was different. And after those last few missions, she needed some sort of melancholy distraction, even if it were a shot or two stood alone at the bar.

"Aren't you a sight for sore ey-" Carrie glanced over at James Douglass and shoved him in the shoulder roughly before throwing back her shot and sighing.

"Don't finish that sentence." she managed out, coughing briefly and then looked at him.

"Dually noted." Dougie said, before leaning up on the bar next to her and watching the side of her face, "What's eating you?" Carrie let out a dry laugh and looked over at him.

"I should be asking you the same thing," she said, before lowering your voice, "struck out, huh?" Dougie raised a brow in her direction and she nodded over his shoulder.

"Tatty, Helen, Virginia…." Carrie said, "Christ, Dougie, you struck out and you struck out hard." Dougie rolled his eyes and leaned more against the bar and nodded to the tender.

"Struck out is a strong word to use in that sense-"

"Sure as hell is currently the right word-"

"There's other words-"

"Struck out is as good as it comes." Carrie said to him and he took the beer from the tender and sighed, before taking a long sip. She watched him for a moment, biting the inside of her lip and then glanced back at her empty shot glass.

She was just punchy, she wasn't in the best of moods, and James Douglass was beginning to grow on her in ways she hadn't expected nor entirely wanted. And her mind was trying to ignore it.

"Why haven't you been coming recently?" Dougie asked her as he casually sipped on his beer, eyes wandering out to the dance floor and then back to her, before grinning wide, "Hambone's been missing ya." Carrie sighed and then stood up straighter and pushed her hair behind her ears and glanced at him.

"Personal choice." she said and then shrugged as she looked out towards the dance floor again, "You missing me, too? You seemed real tangled up with those guys over there. Surprised you came over to say hello." She raised a brow at him and he shrugged her off. Watching him, she then turned, only to be stopped by his arm jutting out.

"Where you going?"

"Just taking a lap around," she said with a shrug, "talk to some people I haven't seen before, ya know, get eyes on everyone." He watched her, a mixture of adornment it seemed and surprise, as she straightened her jacket and then looked at him.

"Everything look good?" she asked him, holding out her arms like she was about to go off on her first day at school and wanted her uniform in check. Dougie held her gaze for a moment before he let his eyes wash down her form and then back up to her face again. Carrie watched him, her collar turning hot as he took a slow sip and let his eyes rest on hers again, that lazy smile growing on his face as he nodded.

"Good is a strong word-"

"Dougie, don't you dare." Carrie muttered, a small smile growing on her face as she shoved at his shoulder, and repositioned herself, hands on her hips and sighed, "Seriously." For a moment, they just watched each other and it should've felt awkward, but in all actuality - it wasn't. And knowing that he was looking at her that fondly almost made her want to stay and talk to him more. But she wasn't like that it seemed.

"You look great," Dougie said, his voice strained as he nodded, "don't let none of those fools do anything funny, alright?" Now, it was Carrie's turn to let out a laugh and raise her brow.

"Since when did you care?" she asked quickly, crossing her arms, "'Cause three weeks ago, I had that stupid radio operator from the 418th practically down my throat and you barely batted an eye." A few onlookers glanced towards the two and it took Carrie a few moments to recognize how loud she had gotten and suddenly emotional in her words. And why did she care if Dougie had barely batted an eye? He shouldn't have needed to. They weren't technically even friends, just a joke or two here and there, some teasing and good-natured tomfoolery, but nothing more. Why did she care that he should care? Carrie sighed. Dougie looked up at her with those big, slightly worried eyes and bit back his lip before nodding.

"Well, now that you've made me aware of that, maybe I will bat an eye next time." Dougie said, looking up at her as his fingers danced against the cool mug of beer, "Who the hell was it?" Carrie stared at him and then blinked slowly.

"It doesn't matter-"

"That's why you didn't come-"

"Dougie-"

"Because he had-"

"Dougie." Carrie said, stepping closer to him, and holding his gaze right in her own, her hand ghosting over his arm as if to latch onto him, but failing to do so, "Let it go. It's over now."

"You brought it up." Dougie said back quickly, but she stopped him with a shake of the head. But then she stood quiet for a moment and let her thoughts grow. She had brought it up. Almost as if she had wanted him to know. Because no one had known. Because she'd been embarrassed that she let herself think that maybe that was a good guy, someone she could live a life with and all he had wanted was a kiss. It was a stupid thought.

"Who was it, Carrie, seriously?" Dougie asked her as she balled up her fists and looked anywhere but his face, which she knew had a look on it that would make her lose it, "A guy from the 418th, huh? He ever heard about a thing called messing with the bull, you damn well be getting the horns-"

"Shh, keep your voice down!" Carrie muttered, bringing a finger in front of her mouth and looking at him with wide eyes, "He was just some jackass that thought I was there to have a good time and that was it." Dougie grew quiet as he watched her. Whatever it was between them seemed to simmer and they both seemed to understand in that minute what she meant. But she wouldn't dare actually say why she had even bothered kissing the guy, or why Dougie was looking at her like that.

"He didn't do anything to you, did he?" Dougie said, his voice softer than it normally was, that look in his eye deeper and darker, "I know a guy-"

"No." Carrie said, her cheeks scarlet, "It was just a stupid kiss, that's it. It's over. I just….I was trying to avoid the situation again and…." She trailed off. She was over talking about it to be completely honest. She looked up at him.

"I'm fine." she said with an honest nod, "Thank you for your…..concern." Dougie watched her, with a slow nod and licked his lips, like he was still digesting her words in their entirety. He didn't say much, he just watched her and she didn't entirely want to complain about that because for one, his eyes were some of the kindness she'd probably seen on this side of the world. And for once, they were eyes that looked at her in a way other guys didn't.

"Just…go have some fun," Dougie said quietly, "give me a look if a guy does something stupid, alright?" And she nodded and looked up at him, as he smiled softly at her, his eyes darting over her own endless blue ones, an abyss of dampened sea and darkened souls. Lost and harrowing. He leaned forward a bit and lowered his voice.

"Don't strike out." he said with a small chuckle and she looked up at him and brought her pointer finger underneath his chin and prodded him lightly to meet her gaze, before whispering back just as quietly.

"Bergie doesn't strike out."

#masters of the air #mota #mota writings #silver bullets #carrie achterberg #james douglass #carrie x dougie #THEMMMMM #when you can tell they both want to say things to each other but they can't bc they've never crossed that line before #dougie saying she looks great and willing to defend her like bro i WILL just go cry in a corner fr #THEM #i will forever fangirl over these two bc they are absolutely INSANEEE #me yelling from the corner 'just say you like each other and get it over with !!!!' #this is earlier days of them knowing each other but the chemistry is all the same #please enjoy!

[amihyperfixatingagain]

I painted this a long while ago when the party first split cause I knew I wouldn’t have to time paint anything when the Hells finally reunited cause of my current job. I obviously thought it’d probably be Imogen in a really dark place and Laudna being full of joy etc, when they reunited, but based on last week's episode, it’s definitely going to be the opposite. Makes me want to redo this now and switch them around. Someday when I have time, maybe.

Here have some close-ups too.

Also it’s based on this still from “Portrait of a Lady on Fire”

#imodna #imogen temult #laudna #critical role fanart #cr fanart #critical role art #critical role #bells hells #critical role campaign 3 #campaign 3 #cr3 #i miss them a lot ok and im very excited and super nervous for when they see each other again #also its got my twitter handle on there though idk if I'll post this one to twitter or not but dont worry about it #I struggled so hard with the background too #like I couldn’t decide what to do at all and eventually settled on this bokeh look but I’m still not satisfied #also i finished this wayyyy before imogen got new clothes soooo #and I tried to leave some of the sketching lines in there too to add more texture and have more fun with it

[turtletoria]

im so late but here's my full page for the @destinationunownzine !!! my little crossover was submas with fnaf hehe ^_^ this was really fun to do (despite all the trials and tribulations)!!

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #submas #emmet #ingo #turtlearts #there's so much id like to change here but im still pretty proud of this overall! #ive never drawn a genuine background before so this was soooo hard. i struggled with the composition so much LOL #hopefully nothing doesnt look too wonky and the composition isnt too busy or confusing . haha. <- in pain #oh and the colors in the cmyk profile............good lird. the color struggle is real

[dent-de-leon]

Do not think I'll get over the fact that Molly encourages the idea that he's always had a string of lovers, lets people believe he goes off with someone new or visits brothels every night, and the whole thing is just...just because he doesn't want anyone to find out he's got this bleeding heart.

That his "choir practice" is him risking his life to save some strangers he's never met. That he's this compassionate, fiercely loyal protector who believes, "The truth is...How do I put this...the world is harsh and cruel, and I don't seem to be able to just walk on by."

That he has this reputation for being a shameless flirt with countless partners, and just...as far as we know, he only ever had one relationship. And after she died, he carried her cards and wore her coat every day, kept her close to his heart and never said a word about it. Not until he admits to Yasha that he's lonely, that he wishes he still had someone. The way Molly is grieving and mourning a partner just like Yasha, and no one ever knew.

The way Lucien couldn't believe that Jester found him "dreamy," the way people only ever saw him as a demon and monster for so long. Waking up as Kingsley and still looking for the love he lost. Still falling for Caleb. Tealeaf keeping so much close to the chest, afraid to let himself be too vulnerable. Only ever trusting his heart with a few. Wanting so badly to be good, to be loved, to be whole. Worshipping the goddess of love herself. Writing down, "Love. It binds us. It frees us. What more needs be said?"

#laying on the floor. head in my hands #every instance of the nein joking about molly running off with someone or locking fjord out of their room at night is just... #it gets so sad and depressing with the background that molly is a direct parallel to yasha being a grieving widow. how molly lost #his love too and still struggles with actually opening up his heart and being vulnerable with others-- #mollymauk my beloved #believing the nein would leave him as soon as they found out about lucien-- #molly always running and trying so hard to seem so worldly and experienced. terrified of anyone finding out that the world is still so #New to him. that hes only had a few short years to try and fill the clawing emptiness #I don't know...I really think molly didnt have anyone but lestera before #and it makes the fact that he still feels for her and caleb as kingsley all the more heartbreaking

[shallowseeker]

"I'm working on a Ph.D," Sam says.

Sam's lie about himself was so interesting in terms of how he sees himself. (I wish it had made it into the episode.)

Instead of defaulting to, "I'm working on a personal research project," or "I'm taking some classes at a local community," Sam says, PHD!

(And I get it. At my age, I wanna say that I'm working on a Masters' or a Ph.D, too. Not that I, "never made it," even though I was, "considered so low-budget genius and backwoods bright.")

From the 14x13 script Dean draws back-- huh? He and Sam swap a confused glance. SAM: What-- who do you think we are? ELIOT: I-- survivalist bigfoot hitmen? Sam and Dean trade a look. SAM: No-- we're-- my brother is a mechanic and I-- I'm working on a PHD-- (exasperated) Just tell us what you saw.

///

I recall, very fondly, this scene with Rowena in 12x02 Mamma Mia:

INTERIOR: INSIDE A RESTAURANT. ROWENA IS SITTING AT A TABLE WITH A MAN. ROWENA: Sent me to the grandest boarding schools, but I was a wee imp and ran away for a life in the arts. Mother didn't speak to me until I became a star. BEN: A star? Of? ROWENA: Uh, do you follow the Royal Ballet? BEN SHAKES HIS HEAD. BEN: Not a bit. ROWENA: The Royal Ballet. BEN: You know, it reminds me a lot of my story. I left school to work in a steel mill. I rose up through the ranks, and now I own half a dozen. ROWENA: You're not serious? FOOTSTEP’S APPROACH AND A WAITER COMES UP WITH A BOTTLE OF WINE.

NOTE: Ben turns out to be a cad and a fraud, but there's something so interesting about how Rowena wants to portray her class background. We know from 11x10 that Rowena, "was (before magic) nothing but Rowena, the tanner's daughter... a pale, scared little girl, who smelled of filth and death."

It's a brilliant thing about Samwena. They get each other, at least as far as this is concerned.

From 15x06 Golden Time:

SAM: Rowena got it. I mean, she didn't know all the details, but she knew the game was rigged. So this... Magic. This is how she kept control.

#i feel like i could say some stuff about dean and cas too and how they both seem to embrace low-brow entertainment and food #cas himself is royal-family adjacent something like a lower military prince that chose to leave his status behind #and the macleods are struggling so hard to rise above but no matter how high they get it's like ppl can smell it on them #sam + social mobility #rowena + posh background #spn + class #samwena #and the thing is...the game IS rigged #social mobility is a little overstated in many cases esp during rowena's human life #a portion of sam's freak feelings come from feeling like a prince among thieves he wants to divorce himself from his lower class muck #because academia and high life DO look at his kind with a certain air of disdain you know? #and sam doesn't want that disdain aimed at him #he'll struggle with this his entire life most likely

[rocker-socks]

not to be insane but Stephanie Brown is so underrated and i really do hate to say its misogyny but. well. It is.

#stephanie brown #batman #spoiler #this WILL get me shot but. steph is everything fanon tim wishes he was #i think i could write a whole dissertation on how if steph was a guy people would love him #like. obviously Some Men In Comics will not be happy with any female characters that aren't background wives or daughters #but this is so apparent with fandom that its kinda. boggling #know i shouldnt read too deep into it bc duke and cas get done dirty as well #(duke and cas are whole other rants. i love them both dearly and i DO think Cas should be Batmans heir bc she is literally the Ideal Fit #while WFA is great but has also reduced peoples perception of Duke to a reader insert that is still learning the ropes instead of like. #the robin gang leader who has been studying since birth to defeat the riddler. who has powers. #duke and cas are kinda insane and deserve that recognition is all so i dont go into another rant) #the way that people are so happy to have the batboys be complicated people (even when they reduce them down to core traits) but not steph #she's always the fun one #her struggle with being a completely average teenager fighting to be recognized and her struggles with self worth gets put to the side #oh for what? waffle jokes? yeah okay #ppl would be dickriding her so hard if she had an actual dick i KNOW it #ppl would be making tiktok mitski edits of her

[3ntity56]

reminder that not struggling with eye contact, or even having too much of it, doesn't mean you're not autistic. a lot of autistic people complain about not having a good time making eye contact, but struggling with making it isn't in the diagnostic criteria, nor is it required to have a diagnosis

some autistic people might be just fine making eye contact

some might even swing in the other extreme and make too much eye contact that makes NTs uncomfortable. the diagnostic criteria just underlines "abnormalities" in eye contact

again, though, those abnormalities aren't required, because autism is a spectrum and not a straight line

#i myself struggle with making too much of it #while i'm talking i can't do it #but while they're talking i often s t a r e #and i can tell they get uncomfortable #sometimes i end up focusing so hard on their eyes that the edges of my vision blur and get foggy #and sometimes i have to focus hard on their eyes/face to figure out what they're saying #because brain no filter out background noise!! #autism #autistic #actually autistic #eye contact #actually autism #the tism #tism posting

[dailyeca]

INLAND EMPIRE [Legendary: Success] — A rosebud, more stem than petal. A teacup, with a steeping sachet of lavender. It will take time. But they will wait for each other.

portrait on its lonesome (disco elysium style is so. difficult hkjh i blend colors too much and am too cautious about palettes to be able to pull it off, does not help im a warm colored art kinda guy)

Dialogue: AUTHORITY — Don't let this perp get the last word! Who does he think he is, talking to you like that? RHETORIC [Medium: Failure] — Who *do* you think he is? PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Trivial: Success] — Someone with a permanent frown. LOGIC [Easy: Success] — Someone who's a criminal. CONCEPTUALIZATION [Formidable: Success] — Someone who's an artist. HALF-LIGHT [Medium: Success] — Someone with two brass knuckles and the know-how to use them. ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Hard: Failure] — Someone who doesn't seem a lotta fun to be around! VOLITION [Heroic: Success] — …Someone who fell through the cracks. SHIVERS [Godly: Success] — Some 20-odd years ago, a kindergarten runaway is herded into the metal belly of packed public transport and emerges reborn in a new city, baptized and spitting up the holy water in the wake of an identity you could barely say was remade as much as it was, simply, made. SHIVERS — He drowns again at age 7, at age 14, and every year thereafter, water filthier and colder every time, treading without a shore in sight. Even as his limbs grow leaden, come hell or high water, he maintains that stepping foot on land after so long will doom him. INLAND EMPIRE [Legendary: Success] — He doesn't even know who he is anymore; he just feigns indifference. He is a ladybeetle inversed - in the same way there are dots of yin and yang. Stiff belief that there will always be bad in the good. Living proof that there is good in the bad. He will never shed the former, nor acknowledge the latter. EMPATHY [Heroic: Success] — Not now, at least. Not with you, and not without time.

#eca orichird #daily eca #worked HARD on this; LOVED writing for this hajksh skills my best friend skills!! <33 wish i could have include more actually hkjh #DRAMA - SIRE HE BEARS FALSE WITNESS REGULARLY! TO HIS OWN PERSON AS WELL!! #ESPRIT DE CORPS - The lieutenant takes note of the guy's stance. A single pad of his finger makes cold contact with the gun at his side. #PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - oh yeah this guy's scrawny but he's no fucking pansy. you see that scowl? bet /he/ hasn't cried for years. unlike you #ENCYCLOPEDIA - Repression in psychoanalytic theory is the exclusion of distressing memories thoughts from the conscious mind. Often involvi #and for the skills already there: half-light - YOU HAVE TO KILL HIM FIRST!! BEFORE HE KILLS YOU!!! #very difficult perception check shows you his ladybug necklace. shivers tells you about how little Eca got it in the library. #lmao anyway; i made a spelling mistake but was too lazy to edit it bc i already saved it as png lmao. not changing that!! #the background of eca's portrait! on the left you can see a blotch of white on red with a line streaking down. that's the library window :> #on the right is a ladybug hkjh <33 i struggle with even abstract backgrounds so a lot of it is just messing around <33 #took me several tries to paint this and even now i dont think i like it very much but thats okay. painting is hard hkjh #anyway DEEP in the disco elly brainrot. had dreams about it last night hkjgh thats all i think <3

[mattodore]

made a new sim in cas with the intent of them being one of my ocs but looking at them i'm still so unsure if this is true to my Vision™

#river dipping #the sim is meant to be jordan who alongside theo is one of my oldest ocs.............................. so. i'm in cas just staring. #like................ obviously it's very hard for me to turn him into a sim like it's a struggle bc he means so much to me #like fuck i still consider theo's sim to be a wip when i've had him in the sims since like 2018 like this is hardddddddd #the sim looks really good too like it's not even about the sim it's about meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee like i can't decide if i want jordan #to look like this or not..... i feel like it's really just about the aura the sim is giving off like the sim seems really sweet #and like jordan is a very nice guy!!! but i think he'd give off a more morose vibe than sweet... #like not gloomy exactly but like... pensive? he looks like he's got a lot on his mind bc he does. he's a Creative type so yk how it is #so i'm having trouble w/ that i think............ i'll post a pic of him anyway and just give it a few days to sit with me #if i don't use this sim for jordan then i'll probably end up just making him a gameplay sim? maybe? #i'm testing a new cas light out too tho idk if i could ever part with the bg and light combo i use now just bc of the draper painting yk #but it looks really good it's all glowy #i'm gonna try the lighting out with the draper background i use and see how i feel abt it #otherwise i'll just use this combo for when i'm actually in cas making sims

[beardedhandstoadshark]

Ocs you wish you could give more love?

Mutuals ocs but also just generally every one else’s holy heck y’all have such cool ocs out there

#another anon ask #…for mine it’s everyone not in main gang and also Deniz #my guy I am struggling so hard with you #not letting go yet tho. Gotta work this out #it’d also be very ironic to abandon this particular character for falling too much into the background #when that’s his entire deal #if anything that means I did good lmao

[skitskatdacat63]

I wanna change all my pfps again but it was much easier when I had like, 50 pics of Seb, rather than my uh...current 1k+, ITS LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO CHOOSE 😭😭 HOW DO I PICK

#I struggled to choose back when i had the afformentioned literally 50 pics how tf do i pick now??? #every time i decide on which to change i scroll a little bit and see another perfect one #tho i will say i feel like ill never change my discord one it is so cute and i never want to change it #but its like phone backgrounds i start to feel a little cagey(ig?) when ive had the same for too long #actually i think tumblr is the only one i can rly currently change so UGH ITS SO HARD #(i dont wanna keep messing w my insta one bcs only irl people follow me and its probably confusing) #(and i dont use twt anymore really so tumblr is like the onlt one i can change and its so difficult!!!!) #okay i need to make a tag for rambling since ive never rly put my thoughts down on tumblr before #catie.rambling.txt #(yes stealing the .txt format from literally all my mutuals thanku!!!)

[elegyofthemoon]

What are your ultimate faves?

HRM if i had to pick ultimate faves i'd probably have to go with albedo thoma and eula :D which i probably dont talk a lot about but ahaha i feel like theyre the ones that probably haunt me a LOT which is particularly funny w thoma bc hes Just Some Guy BUT he is one of my comfort characters for a reason

#and if you want to hear me ramble heres my long tag rambles: #albedos a synthesized human but for one who isnt human he feels very human #AND as someone who doesnt like to fall into think pessimistically about the world i appreciate his focus on beauties in life (while also #(acknowledging the bad ahahaha) #thoma's just like. the best kind of friend ! idk how to explain it without like bawling my eyes out super hard #AND THEN THERES EULA #SO OKAY EULA. HER WHOLE BACKSTORY OF TRYING TO STRIVE FROM HER BAD BACKGROUND TO MAKE A PLACE FOR HERSELF #TO PROVE SHE CAN BE GOOD - THAT SHE CAN BE MORE THAN THE BAD FAMILY NAME #THE STRUGGLE MAKES ME SEETHE AND MAKES ME ACHE SO HARD #like like like like listen #if you have the time #and if youre down for like chill (sad) song. please listen to stay down by boygenius #its a very eula song to me and it makes me want to eat wood :)! #answered #anons #o also albedos development is so lovely aaaaaaaa #AND HIS VOICE IS VERY NICE LMAOOO THATS WHY I GLUED MY EYEBALLS ON HIM #i didnt care for his design too much until he spoke and i went '...ok. fine i suppose' #game said 'eat shit heres your new fave character ever' #OH WAIT WAIT WAIT ONE MORE THING ABOUT ALBEDO #rather than the cold researcher characters! hes a very warm and compassionate researcher!! and thats why it makes #it all the better to enjoy listening to him ramble about life and bio and blahblahblahblah #BUT ANYWAYS hi. thats enough of me rambling about albedo 🤡

[rewrentless]

.

#my pain is getting worse and i dont know how to cope with it im near always in absolute agony i xant sleep at night i cant do my fucking job #depressions hitting hard and struggling with internalised ableism telling me im useless and a burden #love that my dad constantly calls me and mum lazy feeding into my self hatred #i knew my pain was gonna get worse but i didnt expect it to happen so soon #i can deal with the sciatica it becomes background pain with the dull ache in the rest of my body #its the fucking stabbing pains in my ribs bsck and hips especially at night i need help but no one wants to cayse im 'too young'

[mbat]

hey! About your wii post- as someone who bought an old gamecube compatible Wii a few days ago, I’d say it’s well worth it to buy one even in 2023 especially if you mod it. Getting it locally (from an individual seller) should be much cheaper than buying it online by the way, it’s how I got mine + much more. Or simply ask friends etc if they have one they don’t want/or are willing to sell- many people leave older consoles sitting in storage. Either way hope I didn’t bother, & I hope a good opportunity will come your way so you can experience the Wii again :] 👍

(p.s. you should probably focus on that computer though unless you want to work on your wii’s web browser lol /lh)

this is the opposite of bothering!!! i love interaction!! plus im like. so currently determined to get a wii now that its such a real possibility for me!

i could definitely try and look for closer individual sellers, im just not used to doing stuff like this so im unfamiliar with the process ^^; ill definitely try looking into it though!

also while i definitely want a computer, its not as urgent as it may seem lol, i have 2 laptops that are both likely over a decade old and can barely run google chrome, me wanting a computer is mainly just to play video games on without having to struggle so badly with it. one of the laptops is a chromebook that literally only opens chrome and like, the files app pretty much, i only use it for faster browsing and watching stuff

a wii however is made for games, and i want the nostalgia So Bad, plus, mario kart!!!! i want to mario kart so badly

#my post #ask #my laptop is pathetic ITBSJFJF thats the best way i can describe it #it struggles with pretty much every app i open. it constantly has like a million background apps open THAT I DONT KNOW WHAT THEY ARE #SO IM TOO SCARED TO CLOSE THEM AND THEY REOPEN IMMEDIATELY ANYWAY #im so jealous of my brothers they literally bought their own computers and their computers are so good wtffff #on the laptop it took like an hour every time for it to open a certain modded minecraft pack #on my brothers computer it opened it WITHIN MINUTES AND RAN IT SO SMOOTHLY #its so hard to explain but the difference is stark and i hate the laptop skfjsjf #it was made purely to be a work laptop and i constantly push it past its limits and hate it for it sjtnsjtje #i tried to change the chromebooks os to windows so i could run games on there BUT IT ONLY HAS LIKE 14 GB OF SPACE #AND IT DISABLED BLUETOOTH AND THE TOUCHPAD WHEN I MADE IT WINDOWS OS. WAAAAA #sorry i hate these laptops so bad. like i definitely really want a computer but these laptops arent broken so its not urgent lol #a wii would be so fun and only take a little over 100$ to get it alongside a few games. thats so affordable wtfff #...im so sorry for talking so much i literally have so many thoughts and feelings ajfjsjrjr

[rineptune]

“i am going to fuck you!”

“i am going to fuck you!”

that particular clip from lucifer’s fight with the first ever man to walk the planet—adam—had been playing for what seemed like ages now. it’s become background noise at this point, drowned out by the sinful whimpers of the king himself alongside the occasional creaking of the mattress.

“you were supposed to say— ‘fuck you up,’ my king,” you murmur close to his ear, peppering kisses down to his neck. lucifer was writhing beneath you, his knuckle almost turning white from how hard he’s holding onto your hand.

the intimacy during this heated session almost made him want to cry, if he wasn’t already getting ahead of himself.

“because the latter means something different, yes?”

lucifer nods to your question, struggling to meet your gaze. “y—yes— fuck—sorry, ‘m sorry—“ he doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for; maybe he knows that he made the mistake in the delivery of his message adam, which lead to you getting slightly jealous.

barely.

“don’t apologize,” you hush his apologies by picking up your pace a bit, eliciting a reaction so erotic that you might mistake lucifer for a pornstar. his back arched, drool pooling on the corner of his lips—too cockdrunk to even care how he looked in front of you.

“just enjoy yourself, yeah? you deserve it after the show you put on, my king.”

“uh huh. yes, aha—..! yn, i’m gonna—“

instead of lucifer doing the fucking, he’d prefer to be on the receiving end, not that anyone who heard him on the battlefield during the early extermination would ever know.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #sub lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #smudged ໒꒱ ink