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moodooivy · 10 days

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Swap verse

And here it is. The Swap Verse. I want this to be more than just "Character swaps with Character". So here is a full list of who is here and who they are. Enjoy.

Swap Nightmare is Phobos. Name inspired by the Martian Moon, and by the god of fear who goes by the same name. Swaps with Dream. In this AU, Phobos is the guardian of positivity. While he represents negative energy and such, it is his job to keep the balance and watch over the opposite side of the tree. And just like Dream, everyone loves him more than his brother. But unlike Dream, Phobos actually earns and deserves the adoration. He knew the villagers did not love his brother as much and tried his best to him without letting him know people didn't love him. I'll explain the "incident" when I get to swap Dream but just know that Phobos does still eat the dark apple and become a goofy octopus we know. But unlike the original Nightmare, Phobos felt bad after what happened and decided to leave the village, not believing he deserved the adoration anymore. Phobos is still the leader of a gang. But it's not a group Phobos started to spread death and fear across the multiverse. Phobos started his group which I shall title The Good Sanses (Real creative I know) was started by Phobos when he began to take in Sans AUs who were in pain and alone. AUs that had the most negativity leaking through. His Salt equivalent is Phosphor. Name inspired by the word that means fluorescent light.

Swap Error is Cyber. Name inspired by the word that means related to computers and technology. Swaps with Ink. In this AU, Cyber is still the "destroyer of AUs". I want to go or a The Collector from The Owl House vibe. Cyber's story is generally the same as Error's... Which is... Well... I'm not sure what Error's story is but here goes; Cyber was previously swap Geno (Who I will discuss later), who was previously Blue. Cyber agrees there AUs are anomalies of the original Undertale AU. But he actually likes them. His goal is not to destroy them but to make them look pretty. He'll decorate the AUs with long patches of his yarn, make it all look pretty, and then move onto the next. Cyber is not completely devoid of malice. Just like Ink, Cyber is not necessarily "good". If he believes an AU is beyond saving he will destroy it (Hense keeping the Destroyer Of AUs title). He sees the multiverse as his personal dollhouse and the monsters inside, his dolls. Whom which he can toy with however he wants. His Salt equivalent is Crypto. Name inspired by the word short for cryptocurrency.

Swap Cross is Scout. Name inspired by the word that means soldier or person who searches. Swaps with Blue. In this AU, Scout is basically if Cross were to instead join Dream/The good side. But he joined Phobos. Scout has a very similar personality to Blue. He is very helpful and is the shining beacon of The Good Sanses. His Salt equivalent is Scotch. Name inspired by the fact that it also starts with 'sco'.

Swap Dust is Powder. Name inspired by the word that means particals. He doesn't swap with anyone, but he is meant to have a similar personality to Horror. In this AU, when Stretch tried to kill Blue, Blue instead fought back and kills Stretch. He felt terrible for it. But at the same time it felt so "good". So nice to not be a weakling for once and have someone else's blood/dust on his hands. So he decided to keep going and start killing everyone to feed his newfound bloodlust. After the first reset he did it all over again And after the second reset, and after the third, fourth, and fifth. After about 50 resets the human just... Stopped coming back. Powder is very mentally broken but not in the same way Dust is. Powder is just a complete manic mess. He is very emotional and cries over every little thing and is very clingy. Powder is similar to Horror in the sense that despite having a very tragic origin he is in a way the least harmful and cares for the other members the most. Powder has a ghost Pap as well whom he pretends is real as a way of coping. Sometimes it seems like he knows it's not real, other times it can be very hard to tell. His ghost Pap usually just mocks and verbally abuses Powder. His Salt equivalent is Pollen. Name inspired by the word that means powdery substance.

Swap Killer is Hunter. Name inspired by the word that means someone that hunts. He doesn't swap with anyone, but he is meant to have the same personality as Dust. In this AU, I wanted to play off the fact that Killer lacks emotions. Instead of lacking emotions but still acting with a lot of expression (The best way I can describe Killer) Hunter shows little to no expression. And unlike Dust, Hunter has no sense of empathy or sympathy for anyone he's hurt or anyone around him that is hurting. Hunter tries his best with Powder and Spook because he knows how hard their past is but he can never bring it in himself to fully sympathize. His Salt equivalent is Heather. Name inspired by... I dunno.

Swap Horror is Spook. Name inspired by the word that means unnerving. He doesn't swap with anyone, but he is meant to have the same personality as Killer. In this AU, not much really changes. Blue is the one who's eye is required for the Core. Alphys is never able to bring herself to take it herself, but when Spook finds out about this, he himself offers to let her. Spook is very dim witted and empty-headed. A silly goofball. He usually just spends his time eating because he's always hungry. His Salt equivalent is Spade. Name inspired by the fact it also starts with 'sp'.

Swap Dream is Hypnos. Name inspired by the god of sleep that has the same name. Swaps with Nightmare. In this AU, Hypnos is the guardian of negativity. While he represents positive energy and such, it is his job to keep the balance and watch over the opposite side of the tree. And just like Nightmare, the villagers do not like him. But unlike Nightmare, Hypnos is kind o justifiable to dislike. He's a bit of a self entitled jerk. He is very jealous of Phobos and has always suspected the villagers loved him more. Hypnos is always trying to get some love but never can. Until one day he gets tired of it. Hypnos eats a positive apple to try and gain some attention. But when that doesn't work he snaps and tries to kill his own brother. Phobos eats the dark apple in order to become strong so he can fight back. But before Hypnos and him and fully fight, Hypnos turns to stone. Once Hypnos came back from stone he swore to himself that he'd get back at Phobos (For existing I guess). And so he started his own little group called the Fallen Sanses. His Salt equivalent is Hydria. Name inspired by the word hydra.

Swap Ink is Slate. Name inspired by a shade of grey and 'blank 'slate''. Swaps with Error. In this AU, Slate is still the "protector of AUs". Slate is still the one who creates the AUs. But here, his attitude is much more similar to Error's. He is VERY particular about his creations and if he finds that there is a single thing wrong with it he will destroy it. Even if it's when he changes his mind after creating the monsters that live in the AU. Slate gets very jealous. If he thinks someone is getting more attention than him he will purposely deface their work. Which is why he hates Cyber. After Cyber "ruins" the AUs Slate works "So HaRd" to "perfect", he will destroy it. Even if he could very easily just clean up the mess. If Slate befriends someone he might leave the AU they live in be. But one wrong move and he will destroy that AU just out of spite. His Salt equivalent is Sullen. Name inspired by the word that means gloomy and depressed.

Swap Blue is Cobalt. Name inspired by the shade of blue and material that goes by the same name. Swaps with Cross. In this AU, Cobalt is basically if Blue was recruited by the Bad Sanses instead. Blue became a royal guard in Underswap and then was recruited to become a Fallen Sans. But what happened was he didn't join by choice. Hypnos took him away from his AU before Slate decided to destroy it. Perhaps he say potential. Neither are sure. He just did it. Anyway. Blue was renamed Cobalt to sound more intimidating I guess? Cobalt will often question Hypnos and Slate's morals. His Salt equivalent is Cloud. Name inspired by Cloudberries.

Swap Lust is Poly. Name inspired by the word polyamorous. In this AU, Poly is feminine. That's it. Your welcome. His Salt equivalent is Posy. Name inspired by the flowers.

Swap Ccino is Muffin. Name inspired by the food. In this AU, Muffin will be made to be as cute as possible. He still has a cafe. But instead of cats he has a bunch of bunnies and instead of a bunny hoodie he has a cat hoodie. His Salt equivalent is Mocha. Name inspired by the chocolate.

Swap Geno is Cide. Name inspired by the last part of Geno'cide'. In this AU, Cide is basically Blue if he were put in Geno's situation. If the human were to somehow find a way to kill Stretch first. His Salt equivalent is Ciao. Name inspired by the fact that there weren't a lot of options.

Swap Reaper is Phantom. Name inspired by the word that means ghost. In this AU, Phantom is basically Blue if he was Reaper I guess. His Salt equilavent is Phasmid. Name inspired by stick bugs for some reason.

Swap Fresh is Tyke. Name inspired by the word that means young rascal. In this AU, Tyke is still a parasite. But with a few changes. Instead of being incredibly dark and intimidating, Tyke is very short and "cute". He is designed to deceive others and make them trust him. He bears a striking resemblance to fanon Blueberry. "Also he tawks wike dis". He wears a cute pair of glasses that neutrally say 'UwU'. But make no mistake. Despite his cutesy appearance, Tyke is still plenty dangerous. Tyke has a very similar aesthetic to a 2000s kid. His Salt equivalent is Tux. Name inspired by the word tuxedo.

Swap Science is Gizmo. Name inspired by the fact Gizmo is a nerd name I guess. Gizmo is an absolute nerd and I luv him. His Salt equivalent is Gemma. Name inspired by the fact that Gemma is also a name that starts with G.

Swap Midnight is Goji. Name inspired by Gojiberries/Wolfberries. Swaps with Ivan. Goji acts like an animal like Ivan. But instead of a dog she acts like a cat. She is still shy like Midnight and doesn't like confrontation. She'll avoid any situation she thinks may lead to that the best she can. She's also not as angry and nippy as Ivan. Goji's parents are technically Cobalt and Cyber.

Swap Ivan is Shoah. Name inspired by the word that means catastrophe. Swaps with Midnight. Shoah is very very shy. He doesn't like to talk to people because he can't really talk well himself. Shoah will often refer to himself when he speaks instead of using words like "I" or "Me". Shoah's parents are Spook and Powder.

Swap Zany is Morose. Name inspired by the word that means sullen and gloomy. Swaps with Chip. Morose is basically Zany but if he was raised by Dream. His kind nature isn't held back by his evil surroundings. Morose is very cheerful and positive. Just like Zany, Morose doesn't really have parents. Phobos made him out of positive energy.

Swap Chip is Ennui. Name inspired by the word that means bored and lethargic. Swaps with Zany. Ennui is exactly what her name is. She is neutral to almost everything. She's glued to her phone. Ennui's parents are Cobalt and Cyber.

Swap Honeydew is Durian. Name inspired by the fruit. Swaps with Domino. Durian is still a very smart and scientific skeleton. She's just a bit more dirty like Domino.

Swap Pitaya is Peach. Name inspired by the fruit (Only because Plum was taken). Swaps with Mayonnaise. Peach is a cheeky little prankster like Mayo. But her pranks are food related. Like pie in the face or broccoli in chocolate.

Swap Mayonnaise is Nutella. Name inspired by the food because it's sweet. Swaps with Pitaya. Nutella is now the yandere for Peach.

Swap Domino is Flask. Name inspired by the contain, which can be used for chemicals or alcohol. Swaps with Honeydew. Flask is still into card games and stuff like that. But he's not a gambler. He's a good boy that just likes to do card tricks and magic tricks for fun.

Swap Casper is Felix. Name inspired by the name that means fortunate and because it sounds like a rich kid's name. Swaps with Constellation. Felix is just as cruel and hateful as Casper. But it's more so a spoiled cruel like the way Constellation is. He's like a generic mean rich kid you see in cartoons. But Felix is also a tricky devil. He likes to play mind games with people just to annoy them. Felix's parents are Powder and Hunter.

Swap Constellation is Calypso. Name inspired by the goddess who goes by the same name. Swaps with Casper. Calypso is basically Constellation but if she was raised by Nightmare. Hypnos fully indulges Calypso on her spoiled cruelty. Just like Constellation, Calypso doesn't really have parents. Hypnos made her out of negative energy.

Swap Abstract is Tinker. Name inspired by the word that means to fiddle with something and repair it. Swaps with Desire. Tinker loves to fiddle with anything they can get their grubby hands on to see what they can do with it and how they can make it look prettier. They still can't speak.

Swap Scarlet is Maroon. Name inspired by the shade of dark red. Swaps with Dread. Maroon is very dull like Hunter. She constantly has a blank expression on her face. Maroon's parents are Hunter and Spook.

Swap Dread is Blanc. Name inspired by the french word that means white. Swaps with Scarlet. Blanc is very hopeful and full of life. She likes to see the beauty in everything. Blanc's parents are Cide and Phantom.

Swap Desire is Iris. Name inspired by the word that means colorful and pretty. Swaps with Abstract. Since Desire can talk I wanted to go for the complete opposite affect Abstract has. Iris never shuts up and is constantly babbling about something. She loves the arts and is always on her phone taking photos and selfies.

Undertale: Toby Fox

Blue: Popcornpr1nce

Ink: Comyet

Dream: Jokublog

Nightmare: Jokublog

Geno: Crayonqueen

Error: Crayonqueen

Fresh: Crayonqueen

Horror: Sour-Apple-Studios

Killer: Rahafwabas

Dust: Ask-Dusttale

Lust: Nsfwshamecave

Reaper: Renrink

Science: HolyTraitor

Cross: Jakei95

Ccino: Black-Nyanko

Ivan, Midnight, Zany, Chip, Domino, Mayonnaise, Pitaya, Honeydew, Constellation, Casper, Desire, Dread, Scarlet, Astract: Me

Swap Verse: Me

#undertale #nightmare sans #horror sans #killer sans #dust sans #swap sans #dream sans #ccino sans #cross sans #science sans #fresh sans #geno sans #error sans #lust sans #blue sans #ink sans #ship kids #swap verse

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quitealotofsodapop · 6 days

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How does the Wukongverse gang feel about the stone matriarch au updates? Do they still keep in touch with each other?

-💜(@fruit-fight)

The Wukongverse isn't a linear au/story, so they just hang out whenever.

That being said, if Dawn/LMK!SWK experiences the Stone Matriarch au and all that it implies...

Dasheng: "Oh hey, you've been busy-" Dawn, thousand-yard stare: "There used to be more of us. There used to be a troupe of Stone Monkeys on Mount Huaguo, and their last Matriarch was out mother." Rest of the monkeys: "...wut" ( 0_0) Dawn: "They were wiped out in the Great Flood when the Heavenly Pillar broke. When my mother thought that she had lost her mate, she deliberately buried herself to form the Stone Egg that would become me." Cherry: "The boulder is our mom!?" Other Monkeys: "Shush!" Ace: "While these plot twists are so very entertaining, can we see some evidence?" Dawn: *quietly reveals Luzhen, fast asleep in a papoose* The Other Monkeys: "!!!" Dawn: "My mother's mate didn't die in the flood, but had become trapped beneath the mountain. He too made a Stone Egg." Starfruit, confused: "He looks exactly like you, man!" Smokey, calculating "Well since mates naturally share dao.. then that would make him our-" Shihou, bounces up excited: "WE HAVE A LITTLE BROTHER!" Sugar, worried: "But what if *ours* is still stuck under the mountain?" All the SWKs: "..." All the SWKs:

They leave the meeting room deserted within seconds.

Some of their respective LEMs come running too while others are super confused/worried.

Dusk/LMK!LEM just wanders in, checks on Luzhen to make sure the baby wasn't scared by all the noise, and comments:

Dusk: "Wow. You didn't even touch the fact that Guanyin is your mother's reincarnation." The LEMs, all-hearing: "SHE'S/THEY'RE WHAT?!

Lots of chaos ensues across the multiverse as the differnt monkeys try to figure out what parts of the Stone Matriarch story fits their worlds.

The ones who manage to unearth their version of Luzhen clutch the newborn Stone Monkey tight, sobbing at the joy of finding another of their kind.

#stone matriarch au #stone monkeys #wukongverse #lmk #lmk aus #lego monkie kid #sun wukong #crossovers #monkey king hero is back #monkey king reborn #new gods nezha reborn #meihouwang #journey to the west legends of the monkey king #the monkey king netflix #the monkey king 2023 #smash legends

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shadowy-suitcase-herring-neck · 5 months

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Please, send the info dump. I WANNA HEAR THE FERAL NIGHTMARE AU STORY

you my friend have no idea what you have just started :)

(nightmare) The Feral nightmare au is kind of a what if to how the corruption might work differently. Essentially The corruption essentially inhibits the mind and erases memory. like thinking through a fog if that makes sense. The corruption also enhances negative emotions.

so instead of just gaining tentacles and going tyrant mode during the apple incident he just goes feral beast mode who is currently powered by fear and anger.

After the incident nightmare doesn't have the same drive most of his counterparts would have. also his memory is pretty much wiped. though he does remember certain emotions based on objects. apples make him feel anxious so he stays away from them while he collects other things such as books because they trigger a positive emotion even if he doesn't quite remember why. or how to read. His mind is much more survival driven and doesn't really care much about multiverse domination or even revenge.

he lives in an underground cave network under Dreamtale which by this time has been transformed into a shadow Forrest full of creatures that have been affected by the corruption and negativity. The place where the village and the tree of feelings was in completely barren though and everything avoids it. The cave network is mostly long twisting tunnels nightmare has made with a few massive natural caves that the tunnels connect.

Nightmare is still well known across the multiverse as he has the ability to travel between au's and he tends to cause a bit of a panic. You see nightmare feeds entirely off of negative emotions, mostly being fear. the usual way he get fear is by finding a random person and proceeding to scare the life out of them. he tries to find people who are alone because groups tend to attack more than a lone individual. Nightmare isn't exactly murderous as... he has no need to be. he doesn't eat people so. after he gets his negative emotions he usually leaves. unless the individual decides to attack then nightmare will probably kill them.

(the gang)

the gang only involves horror, killer, and dust. idk if you could really call them a gang because they are really just... well a group of sanses nightmare has kidnapped and brought to his burrow. none of them know why. none of them know anything about nightmare. they don't even know his real name or that he has one. he just kinda kidnapped them.

Not that they really mind that much. killer and dust where pretty much in an empty world at that point. and Horror had no more desire to go back anyway because his brother had died due to starvation.

Horror was the first of the gang that nightmare surprise adopted. he has been living with nightmare for about two years now. the underground river has a abundant amount of fish plus nightmare regularly goes on supply runs and grabs whatever he thinks the smaller skeleton creatures he shares a home with would like. horror is pretty good at navigating the tunnels by now.

Killer was actually the second one to be kidnapped by Nightmare. he finds living with the equivalent of a demon dragon (minus most of the dragonish part) to be rather cool. he calls nightmare Beasty but not in a bad way. he is the only one who can call him that and makes sure everyone else knows this. spends a lot of time carving wood but nightmare takes him to the surface of the au to make sure he doesn't get to bored. nightmare has to be nearby though so "the shadow creatures" don't attack killer.

Dust has only been in the burrow for about 6 months. please help this man he is so lost. what is this place and who are these people, who knows! why is this weird slimy skeleton creature keeping him hostage? he sure doesn't know. all he knows is that at least he isn't trapped in a loop anymore.

(star sanses)

Dream doesn't know what happend to his brother. he holds onto the hope that maybe he is alive out there somewhere in the multiverse but ultimately has no idea. he made friends with blue and ink and helps them protect the multiverse from all the other dangers to the multiverse because the gang wouldn't be the only one. Dream doesn't really know of his position as guardian... no one knew... he's just the guy that was also that statue Blue found in that weird desolate au.

Blue has been a sort of multiverse guard since learning about all the au's. he always wanted to do somthing like this and finda the travel and protection of the denizens of the multiverse to be quite rewarding. though he makes sure to still spend plenty of time back in under swap with his friends and brother. Dream lives with him and his brother as he needed help adjusting to modern society and stuff. Blue has a bit of a fued against nightmare as he is attempting to figure out where he keeps coming from and why he is randomly attacking people, nightmare has not been much help in this regard.

Ink id just there because Dream and Blue are his friends. and their adventures and "quests" they go on is fun and he likes spending time with them. nightmare doesn't really care about ink. Ink can just sort of watch him do stuff and he could not care less. Ink takes this opportunity many times to draw the weird goop creature. Nightmare is a little intrigued by the fact he cannot sense any emotions from ink.

(other stuff)

this au is mainly focused on how nightmare is able to slowly find himself after the corruption shattered his mind. which he is able to do somewhat. he will never be the same though.

Dream and nightmare have an interesting relationship. neither know at first that the other is their brother. Nightmare doesn't even remember having a brother beyond a vague collection of fragmented memories and sensations. but Dream definitely feels familer... and nightmare wants to know why. Dream can sense there is something familer about nightmare as well.

for anyone reading this feel free to ask any questions. it is how i share more about an au :D this ramble is just skimming the surface of lore and stuff >:3

#herrings rambles #herrings mailbox #feral nightmare au #undertale au #nightmare sans

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rokhal · 3 months

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ANGR Magical Girl AU: Wrong Universe

The Robbie I usually write wakes up in the Ghost Rider Magical Girl AU.

I figured that in Magical Girl AU, Robbie is likely to go to Lisa to ask for help walking in heels (assuming Johnny's tips are less than useful) and Lisa gets so excited at the prospect of Robbie participating in drag and he denies that's what he's doing but refuses to explain so in her desire to be supportive she ends up stalking him so she can cheer for him at his show and ends up finding out that he's a magical girl which somehow makes a lot more sense. She becomes a valuable member of the team because she has social skills. Of a sort.

If anything here contradicts any other ideas anyone else has in the works, MULTIVERSE BAYBEE it's noncanon :) The Sharpie thing is purely a case of Great Minds Think Alike though. I saw that in Moose's fic and was like, twins!

This is way too long 😭

As Robbie scrubbed the brake cleaner off his hands, the axle grease wiped away and so did the black Sharpie he’d hastily scribbled onto his fingernails that morning. His bright pink fingernails. If it was nail polish, the brake cleaner should be taking that off, too; he scrubbed hopefully at his thumbnail but this was as useless as the acetone he’d tried before resorting to Sharpie.

He’d woken up feeling more normal than he had in a long time. The pleasant sensation of a full night’s rest had faded as he’d gotten dressed and made Gabe breakfast. His bad eye was mysteriously back to normal and the scar on his forehead was completely gone, but his goatee was shaved off, he had some kind of jewel embedded in his chest, his fingernails were pink, and. And Gabe wasn’t his Gabe. It was Gabe’s face, and Gabe’s smile, but instead of cartoon and comic book heroes filling his shelves and plastered all over his door, it was sparkly anime girls and Japanese motorcycle riders; he was happier, stronger legs and steadier hands, and he didn’t second-guess Robbie’s every expression and movement or double-check his identity after every time Robbie left his sight. Robbie spent half an hour tossing the bathroom looking for his epilepsy meds before he checked the app on his phone where he tracked expenses and found that this Gabe had been off them for an entire year.

The apartment was mostly the same; same view across Hillrock Lane out the apartment window, same pile of automotive magazines on the coffee table—now with manga mixed in—same thrifted art on the walls. Robbie had wondered if he was still asleep, and dreaming, or better, if the last two years had been a long and vivid nightmare, until he noticed the time and realized that he’d missed Gabe’s bus and was about to be late to work. He’d stuffed a stale tortilla in his mouth and gnawed on it while grabbing a pair of coveralls and helping Gabe into the Charger to get to school. He’d dropped Gabe off and made it all the way to Canelo’s before he realized that he hadn’t heard from Eli all morning.

He stood now under a half-disassembled Chevy Tahoe, scrubbing desperately at his glossy pink fingernails as though with enough solvent and friction he could wipe himself from this world and return to his own body, his own curse, his own Hillrock Heights, his own brother. He simply had no better ideas.

“Reyes!” Canelo barked from across the shop, and he jumped, dropped the can of brake cleaner. “Quit daydreaming!”

Eli would have had a snide comment about how Canelo ought to mind his own fucking business or risk getting disemboweled. Robbie checked the time and added up the hours he was due by the end of the day, for future reference in case Canelo rounded his pay down when it was due next week. If he was still here next week. He couldn’t be stuck here until next week but he didn’t know to do anything but work. Did his other self know anybody here who dealt with interdimensional travel and too-pleasant dreams? He wasn’t a Ghost Rider here, Johnny Blaze wouldn’t have any reason to have met him…

...But he was a something.

What the hell was he now?

He was on the clock, that’s what. He had a job he knew how to do, to provide for a brother he loved, even though neither of them were his, and he would reinstall this truck’s axles and wheel bearings and not get his alternate self fired and then he would, somehow, figure out how to get home. (Dread filled him.) (He hadn’t fantasized about murdering anyone all morning.) (The world felt brighter, his senses more vivid, his flesh and skin snug over his bones, and he could believe for the first time in a long time that he might be safe for others to be around.)

“You alright, son?” Canelo asked from two feet behind him, and Robbie hit his head on the Tahoe’s subframe. It didn’t hurt as much as it probably should have. Canelo was just standing there, frowning a little. “Take five, I’ll get you some ice.”

What the hell, Robbie thought, and no one answered.

Canelo did, indeed, return from the break room with an ice pack. No one else at the shop seemed to think this was unusual. Marty winced at Robbie and patted his own head, mouthing, You okay? and even Ramon grunted sympathetically at him. Robbie retreated to the bathroom where he pressed the ice pack to the starting bruise and stared himself down in the mirror. Without his beard, he looked young and delicate—that’s why he’d grown it. But it wasn’t just the beard; his eyes were brighter, his skin was smoother, the scar through his eyebrow had faded—all the scars on his hands were gone, too, the bashed knuckles and burns and scrapes that were inevitable if you worked with cars all day. He looked tender and undamaged. He looked like someone worth protecting.

He had a terrible thought and whispered, “Talk to me. I’m not doing this on purpose but if I know you’re in here I think I can give you your body back.” He stared uncomfortably into his own eyes, but the back of his mind was silent.

He got out his phone—same PIN as usual—and checked his contacts list. Johnny Blaze was on there, but Johnny Blaze had almost killed him and Eli the first time they’d met; how would Johnny react to some strange, murderous version of Robbie wearing the skin of the Robbie he knew? He couldn’t beat Johnny in a fight in the real world. He didn’t know how to explain himself. There was nothing to do but finish the Tahoe.

The day rolled on, he returned the Tahoe to drivable condition and did a couple tune-ups and oil changes, and he snagged a moment to Sharpie his nails black again. He wasn’t afraid of nail polish—he had black nail polish at home somewhere, eyeliner too—but pink was not his style and was liable to attract the wrong kind of attention, especially with how...how he looked, in this world. (What was he? Was he something that could fight, defend itself? There was no fire waiting under his skin to consume his human weakness.)

He was puzzling over a set of trouble codes from a fifteen-year-old Nissan Maxima when his phone buzzed. If this version of himself worked on the same logic, he’d set it up to mute unknown numbers but programmed in all Gabe’s teachers and therapists. He dug into his pocket under his coveralls and checked it. It was Lisa, saved in his contacts list with a photo he didn’t remember taking: familiar bright hair and smile, raising two fingers in a V in front of one eye while her other hand displayed a river rock with a large hole worn through the center, dangling from a pink ribbon.

This was not a conversation he was ready to have. He ended the call. A minute later, she called again. Robbie walked to the time clock and punched out as he answered. “Uh, what’s up.”

Screeching and howling and buzzing in the background. “Omigod where are you?” Lisa demanded. She sounded out of breath.

“Work,” Robbie said, baffled. “What’s going on, are you okay?”

“What do you mean what’s—” Banging, panting. “Where’s Eli?”

A chill unfurled under his skin, his hand grew numb as he gripped his phone case. “What are you talking about.”

“Did you lock him in the freezer again?” Lisa demanded. What. “I know he’s annoying—”

“That’s one word for it,” Robbie muttered, swallowing bile.

“—but he’s an essential member of the team!”

“What team?”

Lisa paused. “The, the team,” she said hesitantly. “The Guardians of Hillrock Heights. Robbie, you. You know what you do helps people, right?”

He was disappointing her somehow—no, worse, letting her down. “Yeah, of course, I, uh.” Eli existed here, but this Lisa knew about him; obviously this version of Robbie had trusted her more. Or she’d just stalked him and figured it out. “What do you need me to do?”

“Get to the Cecil Hotel,” Lisa panted. “Bring Eli. And stay and talk to me after you transform back.”

Transform. Robbie rubbed the hard pink jewel embedded in his sternum. “Right. Okay.”

He left the time clock and approached Canelo’s office, racking his brain for some excuse—a lie about Gabe? A medical appointment? When he opened the door, Canelo met his eyes and sighed. “Again? Well, go on.” Robbie stared at him. He wasn’t even scowling. “What do you want, a hug? Go do your thing.”

He ran out of the shop and threw himself into the Charger. As he sped out of the parking lot, he almost clipped off one of its mirrors against the security gate. He grabbed his phone and started to search for the Cecil Hotel while making a left turn onto Atlantic Boulevard and almost crashed head-on into an F-250; he couldn’t drive and use his phone at the same time anymore. The phone dropped to the floorboards and he pulled hastily to the side of the road, cursing.

His connection to the Charger was different here, too. Still there, but weaker. Possibly just in his head. He tried to stretch out into it anyway, feeling its vibrations, listening to the loping chug of its idle and the continuous hiss of its supercharger, but his consciousness stayed firmly in his human body.

He heard something clank in the trunk.

Atlantic Boulevard was not a good place for a street fight. Robbie found his phone, pulled up a route to the Cecil, took a detour in an alley behind a warehouse. He hit the gas and slammed the brakes a couple times before shutting down the car and sprinting around the back to pop the trunk, confront this alternate version of his uncle, slam the trunk on his neck while he was still dazed, kill him like this alternate Robbie wasn’t yet sullied enough to do.

There was no washed-up mob henchman wriggling in the Charger’s trunk. Robbie found a couple bags of school supplies, a tool box, and a big first-aid kit, nothing sinister, and then in the shadows, oddly, something pink and shiny—one of this Gabe’s collectibles? A Beanie Baby?

“FUCK,” the pink thing bellowed, and then it unspooled and slipped up over the edge of the trunk, hit the ground with a slap, and slithered away, S-curves glittering in the sun as it struggled against the smooth pavement. Robbie gaped, then chased after it. Him. Eli was making slow progress and Robbie caught up quickly, but he turned on a dime; Robbie headed him off away from a nearby dumpster and danced around him for almost a minute before he had the idea to shrug off his jacket and throw it on Eli’s head. Eli backed out from under it but by this time Robbie had him by the neck. “Look. Revenge is, you don’t got the mindset for it? There’s healing in forgiveness. It makes you more stable. Less prone to violent, emotional outbursts. Kid. Kid! We had our differences, but it was the situation, the close quarters, you know? You’d do the same in my position, I just wanted to live, I had unfinished business! And now, heh, you got a body, I got a body, we can go our separate ways. Kid? Hey?”

Eli was a shimmery pink snake about half-again as long as Robbie’s arm. He had round shining eyes in a hundred shades of rose, and the large scale between them was shaped like a heart. His forked tongue sparkled as it scented the air. His voice was exactly the same.

“You, uh. Look different.”

Robbie had a sinking feeling that stomping the snake’s head under his boot wouldn’t be doing this world’s Robbie any favors. He dangled Eli in one fist at arm’s length—an essential member of the team. “You don’t know what’s going on, either.”

“Believe it or not, I’m not the cause of everything that goes wrong in your life.”

“Lisa wants us at the Cecil Hotel,” Robbie said, returning to the Charger and dumping Eli on the passenger seat. “She requested you by name. We’re gonna take care of whatever’s going on and figure it out from there.”

“The Cecil, huh? Good times.”

“Don’t tell me you killed people there.”

“I won’t.” Eli awkwardly pressed his long narrow body against the door, slowly lifting his head toward the window. Robbie took a hard left and Eli slipped sideways between the seat and the side pillar. “Fuck.”

“Apparently you’re important for some reason.”

“Can you not act like my existence is an imposition for two seconds.”

Robbie slammed his fist into the steering wheel. “You exist because you committed human sacrifice.” Eli slithered out of view behind the passenger seat. Robbie took a breath. “You’re a talking pink snake here. You probably have magic powers.”

“Pink?”

“You color-blind, too?”

Eli was silent for the rest of the drive. Robbie hoped he was figuring out what magic powers he had, otherwise they’d just have to wing it.

Hotel Cecil was a trio of brick buildings spanning half a city block and joined by skywalks. The complex had probably been impressive before the invention of reinforced concrete. No longer a failing hotel for people falling down the ladder of society, it was being converted to affordable housing for people crawling back up. Robbie parked across the street and squinted up at it. He was pretty sure the walls weren’t supposed to be covered in gray goo, but there was a ghost tour or something right there on the sidewalk and none of the tourists were taking pictures. Maybe it was a maintenance thing? An art installation?

“Huh,” Eli said, finally squirming his way up onto the dashboard to take a look.

Robbie texted Lisa: Here.

Her reply was immediate. Fourth floor front building room 73

No emojis. That couldn’t be good. “Any ideas on how to get inside?” Robbie asked.

“Put on your spare coveralls and act pissy.”

Robbie could have thought of that himself, but he had no better ideas. He stomped through the graffitoed doors of the unassuming entryway and through the unexpectedly grand marble halls of the lobby floor, scowling like he’d been called in on his day off to fix a plumbing catastrophe that could have been prevented by routine maintenance the previous week, and glancing up now and again at the pulsing tangle of veins the color of neglected differential fluid that wormed between the ceiling lights and which no one else seemed to notice. Eli wrapped himself around Robbie’s neck like a scarf; uncomfortably close, but better, at least logically, than having him ride along in his thoughts like usual.

“Art nouveau,” Eli commented, peering up an angular gold-and-green wall sconce beside a statue in an alcove whose opening was carved to look like palm leaves and Egyptian columns. “Classy place full of staff who don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Shut up,” Robbie hissed. They reached the pair of elevators that served this part of the complex: just two, and one was out of order. A big brass dial on the top indicated that the elevator was on the eighth floor, and going up. Robbie stabbed the button irritably, then gave up and ran for the stairs.

On the fourth floor, the gray veins were so thick that the ceiling looked a foot lower than it should have been, and the light sconces were mostly covered. Somehow, the light escaped anyway, leaving the carpet brightly lit and the air at shoulder-height and above dim like twilight. Robbie watched a tall man in a business suit strolling down the hall, his entire head vanishing into the pulsing fleshy mass. “Keep your head down, there’s gray magical crap on the ceiling,” Eli informed him.

Robbie felt a moment of glee that Eli couldn’t just look out through his eyes anymore. “I noticed.”

“Try touching it. Left hand.”

Robbie poked one of the ceiling tentacles with his left pinkie finger as he advanced down the hall toward room 73, and cringed as the rock in his chest seemed to shudder in protest. The gray flesh was clammy and yielding, leaving his finger numb as he pulled away. Even if it was invisible, how did anyone walk around with their whole head swimming in this stuff without noticing? What was it doing to the people it enveloped?

He passed room fifty, and noticed that the higher the numbers progressed, the thicker the veins overhead pulsed and the lower they sagged, growing to fill more of the narrow space even as he watched. He crouched low and broke into a run. Room 73 was nearly overtaken; limbs as thick as ventilation ducts sprouted through the walls, heaving and pulsing and moaning, ozone and rot thick in the air. He had to kneel beside the door as he knocked. “Lisa! It’s Robbie. I’m outside.”

“Get in here!” Lisa yelled from within.

“They ain’t changed this lock since ‘98. You can shim it with a credit card.”

Robbie bypassed the latch and shoved the door inward against the mass of shifting tendrils packed against the ceiling. There was barely room to crouch inside; the rust-red carpet shone in the light of fixtures completely swallowed by the strange rot overtaking the hotel. He ducked as a gray coil twisted past his face.“Can you get to the door?”

“Kinda busy!” Lisa grunted. Someone else screamed, inhumanly long and somehow muted, the volume too soft for the cracks of agony in the voice. Robbie leaned down and spotted what looked like a clear space around the hotel bed. He army-crawled toward it. There was something wet and sticky on the floor—not blood, it smelled like solvent. White spray-paint, circling the bed. He dragged himself over the painted lines and got his first look at what Lisa was busy with.

There was a body on top of the blankets, a middle-aged white woman with hollow cheeks and loose skin rising in narrow folds where gray tendrils sank into her from above. Lisa had a broken bottle in one hand and was sawing at the thickest of the tendrils just above where it sank between the motionless woman’s eyes. With another, she held a flat rock with a hole in the center, scowling through it like a lens. From the nest of gray veins on the ceiling, a human figure sagged down, joined to the woman joint by joint with those tendrils. Its mouth was a formless hole, its eyes cold wet pits, its flesh the same sludgy substance as the rest of the hotel’s infestation. Robbie swallowed. “Is she alive?”

“For now,” Lisa said, scraping furiously at the tendril. Robbie noticed with horror that two other tendrils had descended from the ceiling to sink into Lisa’s shoulders; he lunged forward and ripped them away. The rock in his chest shuddered as his hand went numb. “Was it on me?” She turned around and looked at him for the first time. “Omigod, why aren’t you changed?”

Robbie took a deep breath and stared up at the vacant eyes of the abomination on the ceiling. He pulled out the blade on his multitool and joined in cutting the woman free; the gray stuff yielded like flesh to expose a tough stringy black core. “We can wrap her in the blanket and drag her out.” The human shape began to drag one of its hands down toward them, struggling against an unseen force.

Lisa grabbed his wrist. “Robbie, she needs an exorcism. You have to change.” He stared at the river rock that dangled from a long pink ribbon on her neck as she tried to meet his eyes. “She’s got kids who miss her, she’s turning her life around, you gotta help! Come on!”

“I don’t remember what you’re talking about,” Robbie blurted.

“Omigod are you cursed or something?”

The horror on the ceiling reached closer, closer, as black claws unsheathed from half-molded fingers. Then it drew back and tension shuddered through its body; the woman on the bed shuddered in synchrony. Its eyes fixed on the back of Lisa’s neck. It lunged, but Robbie was faster, slicing its wet palm with his knife as he pushed Lisa aside. As it swiped back to retaliate, he instinctively leaned into its path—baiting it with the Rider’s leather skin filled with the Charger’s fire ready to erupt the moment those claws released it to burn his enemy—and screamed as the talons sank into his human shoulder. He could barely feel the wounds through the hollow ache the creature’s touch carried, but the worst pain was the furious hum from the stone in his sternum, rocking and jerking like an engine that had snapped its mounts; he thought his chest would crack open from the force. His hand went limp and the knife dropped and stabbed blade-first into the bed. He punched ineffectually with his good hand as the creature lifted him. New tendrils sprouted from its body, seeking to plug into his own. He was as frightened and angry and frustrated as he’d ever been in his life, and though he was suppressing none of it since this Lisa was already enmeshed in his supernatural bullshit, the transformation wasn’t happening.

Eli slithered down his coveralls and escaped out his pant leg as he struggled. Lisa stared in horror through her river rock. “Eli! Help him!”

“Eh, sure,” Eli said, watching Robbie from the bedcovers while Robbie’s leg went cold and dead. “Rake its eyes! Behind your left shoulder!” Robbie flailed blindly with his working arm, hoping Eli hadn’t gotten his left and right confused.

Lisa stood up and grabbed Robbie by the waist, trying to pull him down. Blood from his shoulder soaked her hair. “What’s wrong with you two? Say the words!”

“What words?”

Lisa groped his chest until her palm pressed against his pink troll-doll gem. “Oh, thank God. Say it: Tie cloth nee, ya toys or chalk!”

“What?!”

“Say it! Tie cloth—”

“Ty glavny, ya tvoy suchok,” Eli interrupted. “Five words, you can do it.”

“Die glovny, a twoy sujock,” Robbie gritted out just before the ceiling monster’s limbs closed around his throat. For an instant, all he knew was aching cold and darkness. Then the stone in his chest sparked and a shockwave erupted through his body, driving away the clammy gray tentacles in a blast of warm pink light. It doesn’t hurt, he thought, shocked. Changing into the Rider in his own world was a cathartic blast of agony as his body cremated itself from within, but this, this was nice. He was weightless in a void of dancing blue-green lights. The pain of talons crushing his shoulder was gone, and so were the low-grade headache he always got about halfway through the work day and the tension in his spine and the knot on his head from banging it into the Tahoe that morning; he tingled all over with the contentment of an hour-long hot shower where he wouldn’t have to pay the heating bill. He stretched out, luxuriating in the feeling, and realized with horror that his body wasn’t there.

I’m hallucinating, he told himself. It was hard to think through the nice bubbly feeling, but he remembered that Lisa was right there trying to stop him from getting eaten, and there was a woman on the bed below who was dying, and he couldn’t see or feel anything but the bright pink gem illuminating the hollow space where his body was supposed to be. He thrashed, but it was like trying to fight the wind with a puff of smoke. He was nothing but thought, and he couldn’t even panic properly.

Solidity returned in jolts and starts: cool fabric twisting around his body and snugging him into shape. Protective gloves, leather boots long enough to save his knees from road rash, body armor, something to guard his forehead. The familiar handles of a pair of body hammers filled his palms, and the world snapped back into place. No time at all seemed to have passed; he was still suspended above the bed by the ceiling monster.

He was not the Rider, but he knew what the Rider would do. He jammed one hand into the mouth of the humanoid sludge stalactite and stabbed the spike of a body hammer through its skull. It moaned, and he stabbed again, flipped himself around, gripped its leg between his knees to anchor himself, and struck for the heart, the throat, all the vital targets that he’d trained himself to avoid whenever he gave in to the urge to beat down local thugs in Hillrock Heights. Black blood spattered into his eyes and trickled up his nose, reeking of mold. Its touch no longer chilled him; his touch seemed to burn it. He beat the creature until it melted away and retreated back into the ceiling, all the veins and coils and tree-root limbs draining away after it. Robbie landed hard on the edge of the bed, bounced, and rolled to his feet. His feet—

“Point your toes!” Lisa yelled, too late. He tripped over his own ankles and crashed face-first into the bedside table.

Whenever the Rider ate shit like this, he’d sink through his own shadow and reappear in the car like he’d meant to do it—not that he was embarrassed, just that he preferred not to take the time to pick himself up. Robbie pried himself up off the floor when he realized that his powers in this world did not include the ability to dissolve into the room’s nicotine-stained carpet. He was wet, disappointingly fleshy, and entirely alone in his head. His protective gloves were doing a poor job, already soaked through with disgustingly organic black slime, and his feet—

He looked down at himself for the first time. He wasn’t wearing protective gloves or work boots or body armor. He had the kind of delicate white cotton gloves that women wore with ballgowns in old movies, and thigh-high go-go boots over tights, and what looked like a women’s ice-dancing costume. The ankles of the high-heeled boots were decorated with pink rhinestones, and so were his white-painted hammers. The worst part was that under the pink satin bow where the gem from his chest had migrated, the black leotard bore the same staple-shaped white stripe as his favorite jacket. This was his ice-dancing costume.

He tried to get his feet under him to stand, but the heels were in the way. Whatever force had undressed him seemed to have a grudge against the stock geometry of the human foot; the boots were so stiff he could barely bend his ankles. When he yanked at them, they didn’t budge. He couldn’t find any fasteners. He was about to grab one of his spiked hammers and try ripping through the leather when he noticed Lisa looking down at him from the bed, holding Eli twined around her forearms like a pet corn snake.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Robbie snarled, lunging on his knees.

Lisa jerked back, carrying Eli with her. “Okay, what is your deal today? I thought you had amnesia, but the way you bashed up that genius loci—are you, like, possessed by your alternate universe evil twin with a goatee?”

“Basically,” Robbie said, retrieving one hammer from under the bed. “Put him down.”

“Hey, looks like we’re friends in this universe, too.” Eli rested his head in the crook of Lisa’s elbow and flicked his tongue at Robbie.

“Rrrrrrrr,” Robbie growled. It sounded ridiculous without the rumble of the Charger’s engine filtering through his throat. He could tackle Lisa and rip Eli away from her, bash his head into the wall—but she’d never trust him after that. “He’s not safe, he used to be a—”

“I know you are, but what am I?” Eli interrupted, and Robbie wavered.

Lisa passed him the box of tissues from the bedside table. “Wipe your face and exorcise Mrs. Sanchez so we can get her out of here.”

Robbie hated that this “change” had left him with a human face to wipe. He struggled to his feet, gripping the mattress for balance. The woman on the bed hadn’t moved; she stared vacantly at the ceiling, black veins spreading from the points on her body where the ceiling-monster’s roots had anchored. She was breathing, at least. Her lips were an unhealthy gray-purple. “Any idea how I do that?” he asked, glaring at Eli.

“Search me, I dunno what trigger words alternate-me picked.”

“You make a cross with your hammers,” Lisa said, demonstrating with her empty fists, “and say something like, eej an owie, sucker?”

“Idi na hui, suka,” Eli corrected her.

Robbie had a bad feeling that all his powers were activated by Russian vulgarities. He took careful crouching steps as he retrieved his other hammer, keeping one hand on the bed or on the wall as much as possible, then crossed his hammers like a priest in a vampire movie and did his best to parrot Eli’s words. There was a rush of wind that set his hair fluttering along with the skirt and pink bows of his leotard, and a fountain of pink sparks erupted from the hammers, right at the comatose woman’s bare face and the flammable-looking bedclothes. He had to separate the hammers, to turn off the power or at least point it in a safer direction, but his body wouldn’t obey him: his spine straightened and his shoulders drew back and his legs stepped wide into a power-stance despite the boots pinning his feet at an unnatural angle; he was spraying hot sparks at a defenseless innocent person and he was posing like he was proud of himself.

The seizure ended and he dropped the hammers and stumbled to the edge of the bed, ready to smother fires with his thin cotton gloves, brush off any burning embers from the woman’s hair. Lisa caught him by the shoulder. “Hey! Hey, look, you did it,” she said, examining the woman through her river rock.

There were no fires or burns. The infected gray-black marks were retreating up from her skin and trickling away into inert slime. “What did I do,” Robbie panted.

“You saved the day!” Lisa said brightly. She lifted her rock to check the ceiling; fresh veins had begun to ripple over the paint in a human outline that mirrored Mrs. Sanchez. “You saved...two thirds of the day. Eli, so your thing.”

Robbie hated that he knew Eli well enough to read from the tension in his sigmoid posture that he was taken aback. “My thing.”

“Bite her!” Lisa said impatiently, watching the ceiling.

“What?”

“His bites heal people.”

“Puta madre.” Eli stared at the woman in...probably disgust. “This is…” He cut himself off, looking up at Lisa. “Just what I’ve always wanted.”

“You are so full of shit,” Robbie hissed. Lisa glared at him, and Robbie glared back. “He is!”

“We don’t have time for this,” Lisa said to Eli, making a strange gripping gesture beside his head. “Hurry up or I’ll do it for you. Manually.”

Eli grudgingly fit his mouth around Mrs. Sanchez’ wrist and wriggled his lips and teeth around with disturbingly more mobility than Robbie had expected a snake to be capable of. Robbie clenched his fists as translucent pink fangs flicked into view before sinking into her wasted skin. Eli’s body glowed, and pink sparks shimmered along her veins, circled over her heart, and flashed twice before vanishing. Mrs. Sanchez opened her eyes and sat bolt upright, staring at Robbie.

“Uh,” Robbie said.

“Oh thank God you’re okay!” Lisa squealed, throwing herself between them and gripping Mrs. Sanchez by the torso. “Ma’am, you just survived a carbon monoxide leak, it’s absolutely imperative that we get you to fresh air, you may still be experiencing visual disturbances, first responders have been called, come on, let’s get you out, don’t worry about your belongings, let’s go. Go. Go.” She half-led, half-wrestled the confused woman out the door. Robbie took two steps after them before his ankles did a death-wobble and dumped him to his knees. “We’ll figure out your amnesia-whatever when I get back,” Lisa assured him. “If the hotel wakes up again…” She mimed bashing something with a hammer. “You got this!”

“I got this,” Robbie whispered to himself, stumbling to the nearest wall for balance.

“He can’t even walk!”

#ghost rider magical girl au #magical girl au #ghost rider #robbie reyes #lisa (ghost rider)#eli morrow #fanfic #my fanfic #Lisa is using a hag stone to view the ghost through and a magician's circle to create a defensive perimeter #Familiar!Eli made Robbie say 'You're the boss. I'm your bitch' as his transformation trigger #and 'Go sit on a dick' as the exorcism spell. Headcanon that Eli knows very little Russian that's not cursing #The Cecil Hotel has an unfortunate reputation as an incredibly haunted murder hotspot

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xxbritishrosexx · 7 months

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Little warm up doodles from the au I'm working on, it's going on about 2003 x 2012 when 2003 Don and Raph got into alternative universe where they met the other turtles and their Splinter. This is just some shenanigans I imagined they'll do together.

Like in example adult Don and little Donnie share the same interests and read a lot together about science and math. With little Raph.. it's more complicated, they boy stick like a glue at the genius from the first moment, whenever Don is staying up late or had so many late nights in his lab, lil Raph will come and crave attention from him, they have common ground on that Don will stop things whenever they boy visits. With Mike.. Don loves that boy and lets him do whatever he wants, even tie a bow in his mask tails. I'm not sure about the relationship between Don and little Leo though, need to work that one.

Like on the other hand adult Raph had rocky start with little Mike but in the end he'll protect that little boy with his whole life. With Leo he'll watch anything what the boy wants even Space heroes. With little Don I'm not sure yet. Little Raph sees the adult version more as a mentor on how to control the anger and seek guidance on it, though when he is grown up I'm sure they'll have those brawling matches.

If you have any ideas what they would do, please tell, I'm open to ideas as there are some things in the open that I've not thought of yet.

And still haven't got an idea for the name of the au, oh well need to think about it too.

#tmnt #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt crossover #tmnt 2003 x 2012 crossover #britishrose art #I can just see these boys keeping adult versions busy while Splinter enjoys his alone time once awhile #the brains and the brawn #britishrose doodles #brothers across multiverse au

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chuuyrr · 1 year

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I saw the baby fushiguro ask box open and I got so excited! I’ve read every fic you put out (crossover or jkk world) and I can’t stop coming back to reread them!

Feel free to ignore this request because it probably gets tiring writing for that more than Gojo! Reader, but what if, and hear me out, baby fushiguro reader tried to go to the Bungo Stray Dogs universe, but accidentally ended up in the Beast! AU. If you haven’t read the Beast! AU, that’s perfectly fine! Like I said feel free to ignore this

Alternative idea though, baby fushiguro meets the hunting dogs (in honor of season four coming out in a few months)

As a fellow student, make sure you’re taking care of yourself and prioritizing your health, both physical and mental. If you don’t, you’ll make baby fushiguro reader upset (and we don’t want that). Have a great day!

scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader goes to BEAST! AU of bsd

jujutsu kaisen x reader x bungo stray dogs

masterlist of the series

╰➤ CW(s): major spoilers for bungo stray dog's beast manga, angst & the most detailed shit i've written in a long while that i have also may or may not have cried to while writing : )

╰➤ PAIRING(s): platonic! bungo stray dogs x child! reader

╰➤ SONG SUGGESTION(s): good parts by le serrafim

before you read: hi, in case you're new, you're megumi's younger half-sibling, and while you don't have cursed energy, you do have scarlet witch's powers and abilities! aside from that, as a special scarlet witch variant, you also have the ability to travel across the multiverse. how chaotic! furthermore, like your half-brother megumi, you are being cared for by gojo satoru, who also serves as your adoptive father. for more info, please see the masterlist.

being a multiversal being of sorts, you were aware of the vast range of universes that existed. however, you've never been to this particular alternative universe of bsd before, not until now. you made use of your dimensional travel ability and ripped through the seams of reality to see dazai and the others.

as usual when you entered the red portal you conjured, you were greeted with the ever familiar streets and atmosphere of yokohama. you immediately ran towards the reddish-brown brick building, climbing the stairs until you reached the fourth floor, and twisted and pushed the door open.

however, as soon as you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted by naomi who was near the door, carrying a stack of paper. you smiled and immediately wrapped your tiny arms around her to greet her, "naomi-nee!"

naomi's eyes widened, gasping softly in surprise at you and nearly dropping her papers, "h-hi?"

just as naomi was about to question you, you released her and ran deeper inside, only to find dazai missing. in fact, kyouka and atsushi were also gone, but what you discovered made you pale. your eyes widened as you stared at the familiar tall man with dark brown eyes, short reddish-brown hair, and a beige brown coat.

"odasaku-san?" you muttered, blinking.

before you could respond further, you felt a hand pat your head, prompting you to look up and notice kunikida staring down at you.

"what are you doing here, kid? how did you get in here?" he asked you with furrowed brows.

"uncle kunikida!" you exclaimed, gently removing his hand from your head and approaching him to hug his legs.

"me? an u-uncle?!" kunikida stammered in embarrassment with a bright red blush spreading across his face as he gazed down at you with wide eyes.

"since when did you become an uncle, kunikida-kun?" that was ranpo's voice.

turning around, you, kunikida, and odasaku saw ranpo, junichiro, yosano, kenji, and, to your surprise, akutagawa himself entering the office.

"i-i don't know this kid!" kunikida exclaimed, motioning at you, causing you to make a puzzled noise and tilt your head to the side, "she just appeared and hugged me!"

"you... don't remember me?" you asked, frowning as you looked up at kunikida.

"certainly not, kid," kunikida sighed, adjusting his glasses as he turned to the others.

you then cast a glance at akutagawa, and you can't help but be perplexed. what exactly is he doing here with odasaku? he appeared to be different. instead of the usual terrifying stoic expression on his face. he just simply had a blank expression on his face and was dressed in a gray overcoat, a black button-up, gray suspenders and tie, and dark calf-length pinstripe trousers that reminded you of both dazai and atsushi. for some reason, akutagawa appeared less agitated, or tamer, than usual

"aku-nii?" you muttered, blinking as you turned back to odasaku, "what's going on? why are aku-nii and odasaku-san here?"

"how do you know our names?" akutagawa questioned you, stiffening up at your words.

"akutagawa's right, who are you?" naomi nodded in agreement as she asked you next.

"i'm fushiguro [name]. i've come here before.. you guys know me.. should know me.." you explained, releasing kunikida's pant leg as you fiddled with your fingers, "but you guys don't.."

"are you saying we've met before?" yosano asked softly, tilting her head at you and placing a hand on her hip.

"yes! dazai-nii brought me here with sushi-nii and uncle kunikida!" you nodded, eliciting gasps and surprised looks from everyone in the room.

"who's 'dazai?'"

at that moment, a pierce of gray fabric had made its way towards you, but your reflexes kicked in and your eyes glowed red as red psionics held it in mid-air, much to everyone's surprise, preventing it from touching you.

"you're an ability user," junichiro gasped.

"where's dazai-nii?" you asked this time, your brow furrowed as you let go of the gray fabric that had shot out of akutagawa's coat, "why is he not here? why don't you like him?"

"I asked first, kid. who is he?" akutagawa grew irritated as he sent more tendrils of fabric from his coat towards you, but this time, odasaku had blocked each of them, standing protectively in front of you.

"akutagawa, that's not how you interrogate a child," oda exclaimed, using the metal ruler he stole from kunikida's desk to block akutagawa's attacks on you.

"dazai-nii is my dazai-nii. he was the one who protected me together with uncle kunikida when i saved sushi-nii from the bad guys!" you answered, getting annoyed as well as the red glow in your eyes dissipated.

"where's dazai-nii, odasaku-san? and why are you here? you're.. you're supposed to be..." you frowned as you looked up at oda, taking a hold of his pant leg and tugging at it.

"supposed to be what?" oda held a concerned yet confused look towards you.

you couldn't even mention it to him. instead, your lips trembled as tears streamed down your cheeks. he was supposed to be no longer alive. you were going to say that, but you couldn't. akutagawa is also not supposed to be at the agency. it's as if he took the place of atsushi. in fact, if you think about it, odasaku replaced dazai and kyouka was out of the picture.

"o-oh no! h-hey, kid! d-don't cry!" junichiro waved his hands in the air, "hey!"

"kid?" odasaku asked, watching you clench the fabric of his pant leg as you teared up.

everything was getting to you. what was going on here? why didn't they recognize you? why were they acting this way when you mentioned dazai? you didn't understand it at all.

"i want dazai-nii! where is dazai-nii?" you cried out, releasing a repulsive red energy created by your psionics. it shook the entire building and nearly sent everyone flying away from you, similar to a shockwave and earthquake.

as everyone shielded themselves and clung to strudy office furniture. ranpo took advantage of the situation by placing his glasses on the bridge of his nose with his free hand before staring at you, and that's when he realized what was going on.

"the one you're looking for is in the port mafia headquarters," ranpo exclaimed, dissipating the immense psionic energy in the air and reducing your cries to sniffling.

"he's there?" you asked, your tantrums subsiding as you cast a hopeful glance at him.

"yes, he's there," ranpo nodded firmly at you.

without another word, you activated your red psionics once more, but this time you used it to increase your speed as you approached the door. you fled the armed detective agency's office, with akutagawa chasing after you, but he was stopped by odasaku and ranpo blocking the door.

"what are you doing? the kid's escaped and they're heading straight to port mafia!" thrashed akutagawa in odasaku's hold.

"that kid wasn't lying when she said she knew all of us. she's someone from another universe who has seen and met our other selves from another universe," ranpo explained.

"alternate universe?" everyone chorused.

"that kid was either that "dazai's" younger sibling or someone close to dazai in the universe she's familiar with, which is why she was looking for him here," ranpo continued, folding his arms, "and if we didn't let her go, she would have most definitely destroyed the building and the entire area. her ability, whatever it is, it's dangerous."

as the detectives were left to mull over you and the existence of the multiverse, you made your way to the port mafia headquarters; a black building that towered over yokohama's ritziest neighborhood, which you were already familiar with. you were quickly stopped by the mafia's subordinates, men in black.

"oi, get out of here! this isn't a place for a child!" one of them yelled, shoving you away.

you ignored them and continued running inside. you yelped in terror, occasionally using your red psionics to boost your speed, but it was draining you as you ran away from the men in black who were chasing you. you closed your eyes and concentrated on feeling and sensing dazai. ranpo said he should be here, and you believe him. he must be here. he has to.

you opened your eyes again as you ran across a fancy high-pile rug fit for a throne room, eventually reaching the corridor after struggling to escape the men in black.

you had gotten a few bruises and scrapes along the way as they were able to catch up to you and snatch you in some cases before fleeing because you were tired. you came to a halt in front of a sturdy double door and realized you were getting close.

you turned around to see the men in black approaching you and yelling at you to stop. "dazai-nii! please open up! it's me, [name]!" you yelled as you returned to the door.

"this is not a place for kids! the boss will be furious when he finds you here, brat!" you cried out in agony as one of them finally caught up to you and grabbed your arm, lifting you in the air and gripping you tightly.

"no! no! dazai-nii, help me!" you cried, tears streaming down your cheeks as you squirmed.

"shut up, brat!" they scowled as another yanked on your hair roughly, "quit your yapping!"

finally, the solid doors that had been closed earlier burst open, revealing a large office with every one of a kind high-end oddity from candlesticks to the desk in the center of the office. the floor and ceiling were black, and it didn't take long for the presence of death to fill the atmosphere when a furious voice boomed,

"LET HER GO AT ONCE, NOW."

when the men in black let you go, you fell to the ground with a thud, whimpering in pain as you fell on your side. you looked up and froze as you saw the men groaning in pain as they were surrounded by a red glow caused by a familiar ginger-haired young man. before you could react, you were suddenly whisked into someone's arms, but it wasn't rough; in fact, you were handled with care.

as you realized who was carrying you, your eyes widened. you recognized his unkempt brown hair and features, but they were bandaged, especially one of his eye. it was dazai, but something was wrong. there was something sinister was emanating from him. his tone was so venomous that it made you tremble.

"i told you to let her go, not drop her. pathetic. you all know what happens next, right? to subordinates who disobey my orders?" he scoffed, gritting his teeth in rage as he drew you closer to his embrace and turned to the other, "get rid of them, chuuya," he said.

"got it, boss," the ginger-haired mafioso nodded before using gravity manipulation on the men in black chasing you to get them all out of your sight as the doors closed, leaving you alone with dazai.

the icy cold tension in the air immediately dissipated. you looked up at the brunet, whose glare had softened as he faced you.

"[name]-chan.." dazai murmured, reaching out his hand to cup your cheek, "it's really you.. you're here.. finally here.."

"dazai-nii..." you found yourself tearing up as you returned his gaze. with that, you burst into tears, causing him to panic a little.

"[name]-chan! it's okay. it's okay, little bella," he said as you buried your face in his neck and gripped the fabric of his clothes. he then rubbed shapes on your back to calm you down, saying, "shhh, they won't hurt you anymore. you're safe now, i promise."

"y-you remember me.. dazai-nii.." you cried out.

"of course i do," dazai's lips curved into a smile as he held you, cradling you, "how could i not?"

"uncle ranpo, uncle kunikida, and the others don't remember me," you explained to dazai, sniffling, "a-also.. odasaku-san and aku-nii were there too, but they don't remember me either.."

when you looked at him, there was an indecipherable expression on his face as his smile faded into a frown. dazai looked down at you, almost lost for words, but before you could open your mouth to speak again, he beat you to it.

"[name]-chan, would you like to go eat lunch with me outside?" your eyes widened slightly as you looked at him puzzledly.

however, you were hungry and exhausted, so something to eat sounded appealing. you nodded, which brought back dazai's smile. just as dazai was about to put you down, he noticed some bruises and scrapes on you, which caused him to come to a halt.

"you're hurt." dazai's eyes, or rather, eye, widened, "fuck, are you alright? are you hurt anywhere else, [name]-chan?"

"no!" you immediately shook your head and waved your hands in the air, "i-i'm okay, really!"

"those bastards deserved what's coming for them. they shouldn't have hurt you," dazai mumbled angrily, clicking his tongue in annoyance, but not towards you.

"huh? what are you talking about, dazai-nii?" you quipped, tilting your head in confusion.

"nothing!" dazai exclaimed with a smile, the dark glaze across his eyes gone, "let me just patch you up and then we'll go out for lunch, okay [name]-chan?" you nodded your head.

dazai sat you on the top of his desk while he called someone from his black phone to come over. it wasn't long before a man dressed similarly to auntie shoko from your house arrived. you quickly recognized him as a doctor and allowed him to treat your bruises and scrapes under the supervision of dazai, and speaking of dazai, you couldn't help but notice how he was staring intently, as if he was waiting for the said man to make one wrong move and he'll beat him up or something.

fortunately, the doctor treated you well and left after bandaging you and acknowledging dazai. with that, you felt much better and more at ease knowing that you had been treated.

"are you ready to go?" dazai inquired, ruffling your hair and softly chuckling. "i guess we kind of match now, too, since your arms have bandages."

"mhm!" you nodded your head as you hummed.

dazai assisted you in getting down from his desk and extended his hand to you, which you gladly accepted. you could see a genuine smile on dazai's face as he peered down at you. he squeezed your much smaller hand with his larger hand almost childishly and innocently.

as you walked down the corridor where you had been chased earlier, you realized that the office you had been to was supposed to be mori's and remembered how you used to play and draw with elise there. mori and elise were nowhere to be found and it made you curious.

as you recognized some of the men in black, you followed dazai and immediately hid behind him, hiding yourself in his long coat. this made dazai reach out for you, saying softly, "hey, hey! it's okay," seeing how scared you were, "they're not going to hurt you. i promise."

dazai thought it was a cute yet nostalgic gesture. with him remembering himself in the canon world, the one you were familiar with, he was reminded of how you gripped him and hid behind his coat when he first met you.

you reluctantly took his hand in yours and squeezed it, but you stayed close to him. you didn't like being chased and yanked away again. dazai's brow furrowed, and his gaze darted towards his subordinates for a moment, glaring, already making a mental note to make sure he gives them a warning so they would never think of hurting you again. you were scared and even tried to deny that you were hurt earlier, and dazai found it unacceptable.

"i got you, [name]-chan. i'm right here with you," dazai reassured you softly as he led you out of the headquarters, squeezing your hand back as a form of comfort.

the port mafia was taken aback as they witnessed their normally intimidating boss soften around you. just who the hell were you, and what did you do to their leader? they had never seen him switch up so quickly before.

outside, you and dazai got into a black car, and to your surprise, dazai had asked the driver to take you to your favorite restaurant in the city—the one he had taken you to before when he heard your stomach growl, much to kunikida protests of him being an irresponsible adult for using you as an excuse to slack off.

when you arrived at the restaurant, you both took a seat at a table, and as soon as the menus were handed to you, dazai asked, "is omurice your order, [name]-chan?"

your eyes widened slightly, but you nodded your head and smiled, "yeah! that one!"

"the little lady will have omurice, and I'll have a plain black coffee," dazai instructed the waiter.

"you must be hungry after getting here," dazai said again after the waiter took your orders.

"yeah.. a little," you nodded your head, a pout on your lips as you rested your chin on your arms, which were flat on the table. "and i had to run too from those scary men in black.."

"i'm so sorry about that, [name]-chan. i'll make sure it doesn't happen again," dazai smiled as he outstretched his hand and gently grasped your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

after that, you became quiet. you had so many questions in your head. something was strange about dazai right now. he was unique. he had this horrible vibe about him. you weren't going to lie, you were a little scared, especially after hearing his murmur and seeing the dark glaze over his eyes earlier.

"is there something wrong, [name]-chan?" dazai inquired, watching your brow furrow as you stared at him, almost deep in thought.

"well, um... it's just that.." you scrunched your brow, not knowing where to begin.

"you're probably wondering why i recognize you and the others don't—that's one of your concerns right now, correct, [name]-chan?" dazai stared at you for a second, blinking before taking a deep breath and sighing.

"this world is just one of many others," dazai explained further, "and of all people, you should know, right? you're fushiguro [name]-chan. you're someone capable of traveling across the multiverse with your reality warping powers, which i can't even nullify."

your eyes widened as you realized what had happened. it was no surprise that the armed detective agency hadn't recognized you earlier, or that akutagawa and odasaku were present but not dazai or atsushi and kyouka. this world was an alternate universe, just like the others you'd visited, with a much older version of yourself as an example. bacause the multiverse is so vast, dazai's world would have alternate universes that similarly to yours.

"but.. if you're not in the armed detective agency with uncle kunikida.. and odasaku-san and aku-nii are there.." you muttered, putting two and two together, "that means they don't know you the same way they don't know me because you're.. you're.."

you closed your mouth. you got your answer the moment you discovered elise and mori missing, as well as the office looking a little different earlier, with dazai wearing the same exact clothes as mori.

"ever the clever little bella. you're not wrong, [name]-chan," dazai exclaimed, intertwining his hands on the table and smiling at you.

"but, why?" you furrowed your brows.

"because it's the only way, [name]-chan," dazai replied as the waiter arrived to bring you your omurice and his black coffee.

"i don't understand.." you exclaimed, frowning at dazai, "what do you mean?"

at first, dazai looked around. fortunately, there were no customers and the waiter had already left, which you found odd, but with that, he returned his attention to you.

"as i previously stated, this world is just one of many, but this world, this is the only one where odasaku lives, [name]-chan."

your eyes widened at the revelation and dropped the spoon you had just picked up.

"you know him. you've seen odasaku's ghost. you even had him and my other self reunite, even if it was only for a brief moment with your power," dazai continued, "and i saw it through my other self's memories."

so he already knows about you in this alternate universe, long before you arrived here. alright, you were getting a little scared now.

"i succeeded the previous boss to gain the advantage, to dedicate my life to protect what could have been," dazai stated calmly as he sipped his coffee, "honestly, i was surprised that you'd come here. i never would have thought, but either way, i'm grateful. this is also one of my universes that doesn't have you."

as dazai grasped your hand, you found yourself crying. you quickly had got a vision of what was going to happen to him because your emotions were amplifying your chaos magic. dazai planned to jump off a building. as you regained your composure, you drew your hand away, panting softly for air to calm yourself down.

"[name]-chan?" dazai stared at you with a baffled look, prompting him to reach out his hand to you to wipe your tears away.

you shook your head and continued to eat the omurice dazai had given you after wiping your tears. dazai frowned but didn't say anything. he just knew you saw something, and he hopes it wasn't about the book with his plan on set, because him knowing three or more people knew would destabilize this world. dazai let you eat your food and paid the bill when you were done. you and dazai got on the black car again, and the ride was quiet, even awkward.

dazai felt guilty seeing your eyes glassy with tears and slightly puffy from crying.

"[name]-chan, would you like to go to the park?"

dazai knows his canon self and his other variants, so it's no surprise that he knew you, and from his canon self's memories, he knows how much you liked to play outside and run, in addition to liking omurice and [favorite food]. dazai has the advantage because he has the book. he can make things work, at least in the best way he knows how. for the time being, what you saw with your witch abilities was the furthest thing from his mind. dazai wished to see you smile and be happy.

when he asked you the question, your eyes seem to light up. as you fiddled with your fingers, you slowly nodded your head. dazai smiled at this and asked the driver to take you to the nearest park in the city.

it was the same one you recognized when you and dazai were dropped and left the car. the same breeze, trees, and ambiance. the only difference was that you weren't with your usual dazai.

"so, what would you like to do first? wanna play zoomies? swing?" dazai questioned, crouching down at your height and ruffling your hair.

"zoomies," just as dazai had expected.

when you ran across the park with dazai—this dazai—it didn't take long for you to start smiling. he'd like to think that being with children was simple. it wouldn't take long for one to smile and laugh as if they hadn't cried or something if you knew how to play the right cards with them. you had so much fun running around and getting to know dazai that you openly suggested what to do next.

"dazai-nii! let's play on the swing next!" you exclaimed, running towards him and excitedly wrapping your tiny arms around his legs.

"alright, alright, little belladonna," dazai chuckled softly at his, giving you a gentle pat on the head, "i'll push you on the swing, okay?"

you spent the entire day with dazai, doing everything from zoomies to swings to slides. dazai's favorite part of the day was you playing with the slides because every time you slid down, he would catch you and pick you up in his arms, just loving the adorable smile and giggle you'd have afterwards. to see you so happy was just nostalgic and music to his ears.

you became tired at the end of the day, and dazai couldn't help but melt when you tugged on his pant leg and made grabby hands for him to pick you up. "up-up.." you said, exhausted.

"come here, [name]-chan," dazai grabbed you and cradled you in his arms, his heart melting as you wrapped your tiny arms around his neck and snuggled up against him. "is little bella tired from playing all day?" he cooed at you.

"mhm..." you nodded tiredly, pressing your face against his neck as you clung to him.

"let's go back, okay?" dazai patted the back of your head as he gently cradled you, "i got you, [name]-chan, feel free to sleep."

as dazai was carrying you to the car, you clenched the fabric of his collar, causing him to hum at you, "hmm? yes, [name]-chan?"

"please don't leave," you muttered quietly, now clutching his fabric even more tightly, almost desperately, as dazai could tell.

"i'm not leaving you, [name]-chan; we're going back to the headquarters together," dazai explained, chuckling at your clinginess.

"no.." you whined softly, "don't go ever."

dazai came to a halt, blinking in confusion. what did you mean when you said he was leaving? he was deep in thought when you spoke up again, saying exactly what he was thinking.

"i don't want you to die, dazai-nii."

dazai had heard you say it before, but it was to his other self, back in the canon world when he got hurt and you went out of your way, risking your life, to get to him at all costs as soon as kunikida mentioned it, even if it meant coming across port mafia.

nonetheless, it caused dazai to freeze. even if you weren't his little sister, niece, or family in this alternate universe, you still thought of him as your "dazai-nii" and cared about him.

you were too kind for your own good.

it made him even more guilty.

"i can't promise you that, [name]-chan," dazai muttered sadly, clutching you tightly in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks, "which is why i want you to stay here. i'll take care of you like my other self did. you won't have to worry about anything because no one will ever hurt you, and no one from your world will either."

"i can't be with you forever. i have a home to go back to," you said, looking him in the eyes, "but the only way i can promise to be with you is for you to promise me that you won't go. i'll come back to you as many times as i can now that i found you!"

"[name]-chan.." dazai's gaze softened.

"i promise i'll save you, so you won't have to jump off and leave! i'll save this world if i have to even!" you exclaimed determinedly, your eyes glowing red, "i don't know exactly why or how you're doing it, but you're still my dazai-nii, and i know how much odasaku-san means to you."

"but, [name]-chan, i can only do so much," dazai exclaimed. he sounded as if he was about to cry. "odasaku and i are never meant to be together on the same side, but if anything, he deserves to be on the good, so he can become a writer, and me? i have to be on the bad, and the worst as possible.."

"don't you wanna see his works? see him achieve his dreams?" you asked.

"i do, [name]-chan," dazai nodded.

"then, promise me, dazai-nii. you won't ever be alone again," you flashed him a close-eyed smile as you cupped his face in your tiny hands, "i'll come back to you and help you the best i can with my wiggly-woos magic. after all, i did promise odasaku to look after my dazai-nii, so i'll save you. you're still my dazai-nii, even here!"

fresh, hot tears welled up in dazai's eyes and streamed down his face, unable to be held back. he hasn't had anyone in a long time. this world was very different from the canon world, where he had the armed detective agency and people like atsushi. even with chuuya, atsushi, and kyouka by his side, he was alone. this dazai had become so numb from witnessing odasaku's fate from across the vast universes that he had forgotten what love was like and how warm it felt.

had his prayers been heard by the universe? could it even be the book? is that why it brought you here to him by connecting the physical and outside worlds? was it not by chance at all?

but, in any case, he loved the feeling of being loved—of having a family of sorts, whether you were his little sister, niece, or daughter.

dazai remembered seeing one of his other selves as your biological father, another as your uncle, and you as his younger sister. he remembered being so envious of seeing his other selves happy despite the fact that they didn't have odasaku because of you, and dazai loved you in all those universes.

"thank you, [name]-chan," dazai whispered in your ear, hugging you tight as you heard him sniffle, "please save me.. save me too."

[ author's notes ! just to clarify one thing, no, you don't know about the book, you just know that BEAST! dazai knows you from the CANON! dazai's memories, and the fact certain universes existed wherein it had you.

the reason for this has something to do with the knowledge of the book. if three or more people would know, the world would be destabilized. this is also the reason why your witch abilities made you see the end, and not the whole picture.

the reason BEAST! dazai wants you to stay because he has no one. he might be the port mafia boss with chuuya as his right hand man, but he's still alone and also because his universe is one of the few where you weren't in it :( ]

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orbital-inclination · 1 year

Text

“WHAT I NEVER TOLD YOU”

Part 1, part 2 (you are here).

Summary: Dream wakes up in a strange place. His host seems kind enough, but there's something about her home that feels… off. He will need to leave if he wants to reunite with his brother. Later, Dream and Nightmare have a conversation to finish. Notes: Moltendreams!AU. Set some time after the brothers left Dreamtale during a time when they were still unfamiliar with the multiverse. General warnings for: dreamtale typical angst/drama, mild non-graphic injury, more references to past emotional manipulation and bullying, and parental neglect Wordcount: 6178

Something was wrong.

Dream stirred. He felt sluggish and weighed down. Pulled closer to the earth by the gentle press of the something that was draped over him. There was a soft surface underneath his cheek, it didn’t itch like grass, and it didn’t crackle like dry leaves when he moved. It took an embarrassing amount of time for his mind to make sense of that, trying and failing to justify why the ground he lay on didn’t feel right. He lifted his skull slowly, rubbing his cheek against the soft surface until the texture slotted a memory into place. This felt like... a stuffed quilt? He pulled an arm free from where it had been tucked close to his body and felt along the surface he lay on. The tip of a claw caught on something. Yep. Definitely a quilt. He could feel the cotton sandwiched between layers of fabric and the stitch between squares. That didn’t immediately alarm him, because his first assumption was that Night’ must’ve found a way to cross the river and found a place for them to stay.

But... that explanation didn’t feel right. He couldn’t sense his brother nearby. The atmosphere was too... stifled. Syrupy, and thick. He almost felt loopy from it. Something wasn’t right.

Tentatively prodding around the quilt, and the surface he lay on, he discovered something else weird.

He was laying underneath... a table?

Reluctantly, Dream pushed himself upright— only to swallow back a strangled hiss as a pulse of pain and stiffness shot down his spine. Usually, the film that coated his bones took care of most things that caused him pain fairly quickly. He remembered slamming into the boulder, but he would have expected the injury to be gone by now. But, obviously, it wasn’t. Not good.

After waiting a moment, he tentatively propped himself upright again. This time, he moved slowly.

He had just enough room to rest on his elbows, slightly hunched over to avoid smacking the back of his skull on the surface above him. He mapped the space through touch and concluded that no. It was not a table. He was underneath someone’s bed. And it was a fairly large bed at that.

He was boxed in. The bed was shoved into the corner, which cut off two potential exits. One end was blocked off by what he thought might be a chest. And whoever had set him up underneath the bed, had sealed the last opening with- oh. Oh, that was a teddy bear. They had sealed the last opening with plushies and cardboard boxes. Dream pulled the bear closer and gave it a squeeze, thinking. If the person who’d brought him here wanted to keep him trapped, they weren’t trying too hard. But... why put him under the bed? He didn’t feel like much of a guest, hidden away like this.

The hinges of a door creaked. Dream stilled. He hunched down, the tendrils on his back arching defensively. A hollow, tapping sound. A box was shifted, dragged across the floor slowly, and- “Oh! You’re awake!”

The voice belonged to someone who sounded roughly his age, maybe a little bit younger. Dream’s first impression of her was that she felt very bright. Or rather very warm, and it was a testament to how saturated this place was that he could only sense her clearly when she was this close.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Uh, I’m Noelle. I’m sure this must be confusing for you but you’re in my room right now. I found you by the river bank. You were unconsciously so…”

She did something, moved a certain way, but he couldn’t tell what she was doing.

He hesitated for too long. Disappointed chipped at her warmth, cooling it. But the difference was slight. “I… um-“

“Why am I under your bed?”

Embarrassment. “Oh! W-well… my mom doesn’t like to have guests over unexpectedly but it seemed like you really needed help. I couldn’t leave you on the river bank like that! That area floods a lot.”

Dream canted his skull to the side. “So you’re hiding me from your mother?”

The embarrassment worsened. Made bitter-sour by shame and nervousness. “I know it sounds really, really silly but… if you knew my mother, it would make sense.”

Well, it didn’t make sense to Dream now. Weren’t mothers supposed to be loving or something? The closest thing he had to a mother was Nim, but he hadn’t had a relationship with her. Not really. She had been a presence. A thing that was just sort of there, but didn’t do much. She said things, sometimes. But it was like an echo of a memory with no mind behind it.

“Are you a human or a monster?” He asked because sometimes that made a difference in these things. Surprise, confusion, and the sharp tang of incredulity. “Um. I’m obviously not a human? I’m a reindeer monster??” He gave her a moment. “Oh,” she said. “Oh. I... I didn’t realize. You can’t see me, can you?” Dream shook his head. “Where is my brother?” “Your... brother?” He tensed, and a pang of uneasiness shot through his chest and squeezed. “We were separated crossing the river. He was supposed to find me. How long have I been unconscious?”

“I... I don’t know. You were alone and unconscious when I found you. That was hours ago.“ Dream didn’t like that. Had something happened to Nightmare? The tendrils on his back lashed. “I need to get back to the river. He could be there right now.” “No! You can’t!”

He flinched away from her, soul beating fast.

Noelle swallowed. “I… I mean. It’s dark out now. Mom doesn’t allow me to leave the house after dark.”

Right. Because that was a thing mothers did. Nim had also given him and Nightmare rules to follow. Just two. And they had disobeyed both. “That’s okay. You don’t have to come with me. Just let me out and I’ll find my way.”

Noelle was quiet for a long moment. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” He shifted, trying to show her that she had his full attention. And she did, but he was getting anxious now. He needed to reunite with his brother. He needed to apologize and know that he was okay and that nothing bad had happened to him. Something about this place didn’t feel right. Something was just off enough that he didn’t feel comfortable staying here longer than he had to be.

She didn’t reply. At that moment, a new sound interrupted the silence. A sharp rhythmic clicking. It grew steadily louder. Footsteps.

Noelle squeaked. “That’s my mother. I have to go. Don’t make any noise, okay?” The box was pushed back into place and the bed creaked above him.

Dream lowered himself flat to the ground. He held his tentacles still, coiled close to his body. Was this normal? When Nim had been alive, had everyone been this nervous around her?

Seconds later, the footsteps stopped short. A creak, quiet at first. A whine. The hinges of the door protesting. And then, silence. Absolute silence.

Above him, Noelle’s nerves jumped and startled like rabbits. She seemed to be holding herself still as carefully as he was. Breath held. Waiting.

As the silence stretched, a chill crept down his spine.

He shivered. Trying to make sense of the new taste to the magic pouring into the room. The stifling syrup-like nature of it hadn’t changed. If positivity was sweet like honey, then it was as though someone had dumped a box of salt into the jar. Something spoiled here. Something had been left to sit for too long.

All the warmth had gone. The weight of it settled in slowly. It was blunt. And cold, not unlike fear. But many emotions could be cold, could turn cold, if given the right incentive. If Nightmare were here, he could tell Dream what it was. And how fear could feel so... hollowed out.

...oh.

Apathy, Dream realized as another shiver worked its way through his bones. This was apathy. Not the absence of emotion, but the rejection of it. He pulled his limbs closer to his body. As though to hide the warmth there, like cupping his hands around the wick of a candle to shelter it from a draft.

Nightmare hid his feelings behind apathy sometimes. And it was frightening, to witness his twin severe himself from his own feelings. It made something in his chest squeeze painfully. But the cold he felt from his brother was familiar and comforting in a way. This was not.

This magic… the person it belonged to… he could not imagine magic so oppressive would belong to a monster who felt freely able to express themselves. The weight of this magic did not belong to a tolerant person. It belonged to someone who felt they needed to be in control of everything, or the twisted thing deep within their heart would snap.

Without warning the door creaked again and shut with a final click.

Noelle waited a while to speak, listening for the sound of her mother’s footsteps to fade. When she did, she whispered. “That was a close one. We have to be careful to be quiet from now on.”

“Is she always like that?”

“… my mother doesn’t like to be disturbed,” Noelle answered. “I like to collect scary things. VHS tapes, books, cassettes. Everything. But if I’m too loud, if I’m too excited or too scared she’ll force me to turn it off or take it away from me... and I just… I just wanted this one thing for myself, y’know?”

Dream felt something in his ribcage hitch.

She slid off the bed, onto the floor, and moved next to him.

“Does she know you’re unhappy here?” Noelle froze. Stuttered a noise of denial as something within her heart squirmed. Dream had his answer. “You don’t want her to know.” “Hahaha... I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would I be unhappy? I mean... I have to hide things sometimes but... I live in a nice place. I... I like my town! I have my own room, my mom, my dad... why would I be unhappy?” “I don’t know,” Dream whispered. “I gave my village everything they ever wanted. Did everything they asked of me... but in the end, I don’t think anyone was truly happy.” Least of all himself, but to give that thought a voice felt selfish. What right did he have to complain, when his brother had gone through so much worse?

The shame and guilt were unbearable, suddenly. A sickly cold sank into the pit of his soul. He swallowed thickly, mana clotted in his throat, because how had he not seen the full extent his brother had been suffering? How had he not known? How had he not seen it?

He thought back to every bad day he could remember. Every question he asked that was brushed off. His brother’s stubborn silence. How tightly Nightmare would square his shoulders and turn away. And all those times Dream knew his brother was upset but felt he shouldn’t pry or chose not to. Prying would aggravate his brother and it was his purpose to spread positivity, wasn’t it? What good would it do to make Nightmare even more upset?

He wished… he wished he had tried anyway. Instead of waiting and fruitlessly holding on to the belief that Nightmare would eventually tell him on his own. When he was ready. If Dream was patient enough and did as he was told.

How naive he’d been. If hiding pain under a facade of irritability was a skill then Nightmare had surely mastered it. Dream learned not to talk about certain things and especially not to express those feelings that were cold or black and didn’t belong on his side of the tree.

He learned that quickly because it seemed to him whenever he expressed frustration or sadness or gave even the slightest hint that he was feeling anxious or stressed, someone would turn around and find a reason to blame the black apples for it. “Taint,” they’d warn, “you must stay pure of heart. It is in your brother’s nature to be cold, just as it’s yours to be kind and warm. You mustn’t allow him to influence you.”

“I think...” Dream began slowly, forcing his claws to unclench, buried so deeply into the quilt he lay on, he felt the wood underneath splitter. He forced himself to relax. Noelle needed his help right now. “I think you and your mother are not communicating something important. You are both scared. And because of that fear, you hide things from each other.” “It’s not that! She just overreacts, sometimes... when she thinks I’ve been hurt.” Her heart and mood quivered. She was sad and lonely and trying so hard to hide it. “She just wants to protect me.”

“But it hurts, doesn’t it? Her protectiveness is smothering. It threatens the things you care about.” Noelle swallowed. He heard it, underneath something that sounded like a strained laugh. “T-that’s silly! She’s my mother, I can trust her with anything.”

“Anything but the monster you’re keeping under your bed.” “I...” a flicker, and the strange denseness to the magic surrounding them rippled. Shame was the stone thrown into the murky pool. “If you truly felt that way, you wouldn’t have kept me here. You would have asked her for help but you didn’t,” Dream pressed, voice gentle but firm. “In your loneliness, you wanted to carve out a piece of happiness for yourself. But Noelle… you can’t keep me. I don’t belong here. I can’t make you happy.”

Noelle made a soft sound. Her voice cracked. “I wanted to make a decision on my own for once! I know she means well, and I... I’m too nervous to confront her. I feel powerless. But then I saw you on the river bank, it was different. I felt inspired? It was weird I...”

A pause and a strange dizziness overcame her. He shifted in concern, debating whether or not he needed to move closer in case she toppled over.

“I felt special. I knew I wanted to be your friend. No... I knew I had to be because… I couldn’t shake the feeling that I already knew who you were.”

“Friends don’t force each other to stay where they don’t want to be.”

The slight bite to his tone snapped Noelle out of her daze. He felt the snap, the sharp lick of regret, and could not tell who it belonged to. “I… I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It… it felt right at the time,” Noelle struggled for a moment. “I can’t… remember? There was something else but I don’t…”

Uneasiness swept through him. The tendrils he'd looped close to the quilt reared up warily, twisting over themselves in heed of his discomfort but unable to find the source.

“… what do you mean ‘it felt right’ ?”

“I can’t explain it. It just did, y’know? It was like one of those moments in a book when the world seems to pivot and the heroine realizes what she was meant to do.”

A shiver crawled down his spine. “Did you feel compelled to help me?”

“T-that’s a strange question. It’s what anyone would have done, isn’t it?”

He had nothing to say to that. Maybe. One would hope. But the situation still felt odd. She wanted to help him but didn’t want him to leave until he confronted her about it. It left a strange taste in his mouth.

“Will you let me up now?” He asked instead.

“Yes!” Noelle scrambled back and shoved boxes and plushies aside. One rolled over a tentacle so Dream grabbed it and set it next to the teddy bear he’d held earlier. There was a thump, as something that sounded like a book fell, and suddenly, it was just a little bit less stuffy underneath the bed. Dream felt along the edge of the bed frame above him and carefully crawled out. A sharp pain shot his spine as he stood, but he swallowed the hiss of pain in his throat and it faded, after a moment.

The floorboards creaked underfoot. Noelle shifted her weight, a dim but growing cold spot of nervousness. “What happened? Between you and your village, I mean.” His soul skipped a beat. “I don’t know,” He didn’t want to talk about it, and he especially didn't want to talk about himself. “We left.” “Oh.” A pause and she said quietly. “Dess talked about moving to the city. She wanted to take me with her to explore the city together. Leaving without her doesn’t feel right, I don’t think I’m ready yet but, maybe someday.” And Dream thought about the tree and his brother. He vividly remembered climbing the hill, running, and the dry grass lashing at his hands and clothes. The voices shouting to be heard over the rumble of approaching thunder. His brother, cornered against the trunk—

“You... you’re not going to encourage me to talk to her?”

“You know your mother better than I,” he said, and distantly wished he could blink away the memory. Over and over again, it looped. “I never went to my brother with my problems because I didn’t want him to think less of me... I regret that now.” Nightmare thought poorly of him anyway. So it hadn’t mattered. “But I was never afraid of my brother. Not in the same way you seem to be of her.”

“I’m not... afraid of my mother,” Noelle said somewhat hesitantly. “It’s just hard to talk to her. She doesn’t like to be interrupted and... the town is more important.” “Is it?” Bitterness dripped from his teeth. Hot in his mouth. Sometimes, it was easy to doubt himself. When he stole anger like a thief, he could only assume the villager elders had been right. He should have been more careful around the tree. But the branches sprouted from the same trunk. Black or gold, the apples came from the place, so there must have been something rotten in his soul from the start.

Noelle startled. A skipped beat. And Dream took a breath. “You are part of the town too, aren’t you? Why are you excluded from the same care?”

“I…” she swallowed, overwhelmed by too many emotions to name at once. Most of them leaned close to sadness. “I never thought of it that way… you-you’re right. I’m part of this town too and… I don’t know if she’ll hear me out, but I’ll try. At the very least I have to look after myself better.”

Dream nodded, and the bitter, writhing thing in his chest settled. He wished he had looked after his twin better. “Don’t smother your loneliness.”

“I won’t,” And then added somewhat hesitantly. “Do you still want to leave?”

She felt sad. Sadness was heavy and sank deep throughout one’s heart. It had the flavor of ice, without the bite of cold and he felt it as deeply as if it were his own. But, it didn’t make sense for the feeling to be this strong. Why did she want to be his friend so badly?

… he didn’t want to stay for much longer.

“I can’t stay. I have to find my brother. I’m sure he’s worried, and I’m worried about him too.”

To his relief, she understood. “We’ll have to be quiet. I’m… actually surprised mom wasn’t woken up by all that.”

Noelle meekly suggested he take her hand so he wouldn't get lost. The cabin was huge, apparently. Dream offered a compromise and held on to the corner of her sleeve instead.

She led him to the door and into the hall beyond it. They walked, stopped to listen, took a turn, and then another. Dream kept one tendril on the wall to keep himself oriented, making note of the changing texture and the stray accent table that came out of nowhere. Someone ought to put bells on those things.

Eventually, the wall ended. The sound of their footsteps changed and every breath and rustle of fabric echoed cavernously.

He only knew when Noelle took him behind a sofa because he bumped his knee into it. She directed him to a wall (it was made of skinned logs fitted together like the pieces of a puzzle with something that felt like coarse hardened clay holding it all together. Dream withdrew his hand quickly when he felt a cobweb. Spiders worked so hard on their nests.) and then to a windowsill. “All the doors and windows squeak but this one— it's a bay window. It swings open on your right— it’s the quietest. The sill is meant for sitting... um, do you need help climbing up?” He shook his head and easily pulled himself up onto the windowsill. He’d climbed trees all his life. This was nothing.

“Okay. On the count to three. One. Two. Three.” The window whined, loudly. Dream flinched and next to him, he felt Noelle jump. Her soul lurching in a half second of fright. They waited a long moment, breath held, but aside from the muffled sound of a nearby tree scratching the roof, the cabin was still.

“You better go now. Mom could’ve heard that,” Noelle said, the focus of her attention elsewhere. Dream tried to follow it, but he couldn’t figure out what she was focusing on. “I never asked for your name, did I..? That… that doesn't make sense. I really did just.. bring a stranger into my house like that.”

Dream nodded. “You could have picked a worse person to sneak into your house. My name is Dream, by the way. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Y-you're welcome?” Sometimes, it was possible to hear someone growing pale. By the sound of her voice, he imagined her face had lost all its color. “I’m sorry for involving you in this and basically kidnapping you? Oh-my-stars. I kidnapped you!”

“Hardly. I was unconscious and too close to the river bank. But you did try to keep me here,” he added, but she was already very stressed and it was making him stressed, so he hastily continued. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I don’t think you were in your right mind anyway. Will you be okay with your mother?”

“Y-yes. I think so. I mean, it's just…” she sighed. “It’s complicated. But dad is here too, so. I’ll ask him for help if I think I need it.”

Her voice was warm again, and it was slight, but for a moment, he almost couldn’t taste the sickly quality to the magic surrounding the cabin. “Thank you. I feel better now. I hope you can find your brother.”

He nodded, and murmured a thank you and goodbye because leaving someone’s home was always somewhat awkward. He turned, swung his legs over the ledge, and dropped down.

Leaves and grit crunched under his feet. He waited a moment. Just to be sure. He canted his skull toward the window, listening, then he picked a direction that felt right, and started walking.

Gradually, the ground began to dip into a shallow slope, and though he could not hear the river yet, Dream knew he was close. The ground was damp, soaked through either from rain or because of its proximity to the river. He stepped through the underbrush carefully, mindful of the way his boots sank into cold mud.

The forest floor was a knotted mass of roots, rotting leaf litter, and moss. Twice, Dream almost tripped. So he spread his tentacles wide, two held wide and arching, level with his skull so he wouldn't walk headlong into a low-hanging branch. And two low to the ground, so he wouldn’t trip again.

A quiet crunch echoed from somewhere in the undergrowth. Dream paused, angled his skull towards the sound, and held his breath because the atmosphere felt cooler and less stifled in this direction.

“...Nightmare?”

“Dream!” The shout back was immediate. His ribcage hitched. He took three quick steps forward and broke into a run. He heard the snap of a twig underfoot and the branches of a bush part. Pure relief washed over him. Cool and warm at once. The weight of his brother’s magic was unmistakable.

The rough bark of a tree snagged his tunic and he stumbled.

Two hands caught his shoulders. Dream redirected his balance and quickly latched onto his brother’s sleeve. Nightmare was not hurt, he could immediately tell. Worried and stressed, yes, but not hurt. Thank the heavens.

“Are you alright? What happened?” A sharp lick of concern. “You’re in pain.” Nightmare’s grip tightened for a moment. Dream felt one check, then two, as his brother looked him over.

He shot one back, just to make a point. He was too relieved to be truly bothered by the fussing.

“That’s from the river. It’s better than it was. I’m fine.” and honesty? So much had happened in the last however-many-hours-it’d-been he hadn’t noticed the ache until Nightmare had pointed it out. “The family that found me was kind. They didn’t hurt me.” Nightmare released him and stepped back. “Stars... I should never have led you across. We should have waited for the river to level. Or for the rapids to settle or-”

Dream shook his head. “We had to cross somewhere. I could’ve just as easily warned you it was a bad idea. But I was…” too upset. Too consumed by hurt and frustration to really consider what it meant when the sound of the river had grown so violent. If he had just stopped to think. If he hadn’t lashed out...

The tight feeling returned to his chest.

“I’m sorry.” he choked. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I didn’t mean it. I was angry.“

“No, I…” Nightmare took a breath. “I should be the one apologizing. It was reckless to cross the river right there. I snapped at you. I hurt you. I knew better, but I didn’t care. I’m sorry.”

Nightmare didn’t... apologize often. He meant it sincerely when he did, but it was just the sort of thing his brother struggled with. Dream forced his jaw to unlock, he wasn’t angry. He was as tense as a spring, but he wasn’t angry. Not with his brother. He didn’t need to feel Nightmare’s remorse to know how much he meant it.

“But you were right… I wasn’t… I wasn’t there when you needed me. I prioritized the needs of the village over you. I saw how sad and lonely you were and still I... the why of it doesn’t matter now.”

“How could you not?” His magic was cool, a shallow pool of shade. His actions seemed logical to his brother. And that made it worse. Dream ducked his skull, feeling wretched. “They gave us clothes and attention. A purpose when Nim felt more like a ghost than the Goddess they later insisted she was. How were we supposed to interpret her will when her voice had been gutted and theirs spoke louder?”

He nodded, once and didn’t raise his head. ‘-it is in your brother’s nature to be cold.’ and Nim’s voice had always felt like the echo of a memory to him, not really there at all. He wondered, idly if they had ever really heard her.

“We never heard contradictory ideas, did we? You were the only one who questioned anything.”

“I only questioned them because of the way they treated me.” Nightmare said bitterly. “We have books to thank for that. I knew what I was experiencing was unjust, but I couldn’t articulate why until I began reading. That village was full of hypocrites.”

Dream nodded again, heart pinched tight by a dark emotion he couldn’t name but was altogether painful. “They were scared of you.”

His brother was quiet for a moment, not quite seething but close. “They resented me more than they feared me. I think I would have preferred fear. If they had been scared enough, they would have left me alone.” “Don’t say that,” Dream whispered. “Fear would have led to resentment anyway. They would’ve done worse.” “Worse,” Nightmare echoed, frigid and biting. “Do you know why I reached for the apple, Dream?” ‘Don’t...’ Dream wanted to say. ‘I already know why, please don’t say it.’ Words were stones and bile behind his teeth, he swallowed them down.

“I was convinced I was going to die.” the simmering anger that had gradually been building behind his brother’s heart suddenly evaporated, released in a deep breath. “If... if you hadn’t arrived when you did...” His voice tapered off. Neither of them wanted to hear the end of that sentence.

Guilt soured the silence. The pit of it gutted his brother. Dream looked up. The dark cold made his brother seem frail. It reminded him of the worst days. And the bitter rage he had felt when his brother had dismissed him now seemed like a pathetic response.

“I’m sorry. What I said to you was cruel.” “It was,” Nightmare said, voice quiet. Dream flinched despite knowing the truth of it. He had hurt his brother. And he had said what he did knowing that it would. “You were right. I did reach for the apple first. I didn’t have a choice, in the moment, I truly believe that. But I... I regret what happened afterward. Dream, it’s because of me that you…”

His brother didn’t finish.

“That I… what?” He hasn’t meant it… as a warning. His voice sounded hollow even to his own mind. He wasn’t even sure what he was warning his brother not to say. But something was balanced, precariously on a knife’s edge. And it was tittering.

Dream felt his brother’s rapid pulse of guilt-anxiety thrum and Nightmare said, softly and carefully. Words chosen at length. “You were despondent for three days. I don’t think you realized we had left the village by then. You wouldn’t sit unless I told you to. You barely moved. And for a time, I worried that the dust might have stuck to your clothes or that somehow I’d missed it on mine and that was why—“

Oh. For a moment he thought Nightmare was going to bring up something else. (It wouldn’t surprise if his brother had wisely decided to change what he wanted to say at the last second.) He didn’t remember that. Something in his own chest sped up. Pounding hard. “Why would there be dust on our clothes?”

Nightmare went very still. “... why would there be— you don’t...”

Was he talking about the axe? “It only struck me once,” Dream said, and hoped that might be reassuring to remember.

He didn’t understand the emotion he felt in his brother’s stare. “Right…the woodsman’s axe,” Nightmare said, slowly, muttering to himself afterward in words Dream couldn’t catch.

The sound of a woodsman chopping wood on the edge of town had been the other reason why they’d left it so quickly. It did something to his soul that Dream didn’t have a word for. The sound made his chest hurt even though it’d been a long time since that wound had healed. It put Nightmare on edge too. Maybe thats why they’d been so short with each other.

Nightmare shook himself. “The river didn’t reopen something, did it?”

Dream snorted. His brother was such a mother hen sometimes. “It’s been years, Night’, I think we’re long past the risk of that.”

His brother clicked his teeth. “Do not overestimate the strength of newly healed bones.”

“The wound is hardly new now,” and then Dream frowned, and said quietly. “I don’t blame you, Night’. It wasn’t your fault. I said that because I was upset... but didn’t mean it.” But he could tell his brother didn’t believe him. Nightmare said nothing for a beat, and Dream tried and failed to think of something to say to prove to his brother that he meant it.

“It's not like you to lose your temper. Before we crossed the river, you were trying to tell me something but I interrupted you. What were you going to say?”

Oh. Maybe the conversation should have ended there. Dream shifted, uncomfortable. “It’s nothing.” “No,” Nightmare said, voice firm. And Dream could vividly imagine the frown on his face. “It’s not nothing. You are a difficult person to anger to that extent, Dream. I know I... said somethings that I shouldn’t have, just before... what were you going to say?” A part of him bristled. It was a small part, and he did his best to bury it. He knew though, as he felt Nightmare’s scrutiny intensify, that the attempt was pointless. He supposed it was a bit like trying to hide lightning. “... Earlier you told me I left you alone with the people who hated you. And you were right. I knew they distrusted you, I didn’t understand how deep it ran but even if I had, I... don't think any other outcome was possible for us.” He crossed his arms over his chest to hide the slight tremble in his hands and vainly hoped his brother didn’t notice that either. “I only did what I was told to, ‘Night. I thought I could make everyone happy. I thought I was being selfless by putting their needs—the needs of everyone above ours. But in the end, it never felt like a choice. I... I think I only succeeded in spreading selfishness.”

“I should have known,” Nightmare’s voice was hoarse and brittle. “I should have known... they used you too.”

The crunch of leaves. A step taken closer while Dream struggled to wrangle the writhing thing in his heart. His ribcage hitched. Used? He would’ve never called it that. He didn’t want to call it that. He couldn’t think of it that way because then he would have to acknowledge that the people he’d loved had not only lied but used him too and— he found himself wrapped up in a tight hug.

“I'm sorry. We didn’t look after each other very well, did we?”

It felt like there was a dam behind his sockets. Burning, burning. But the tears wouldn’t come. He hiccuped and buried his face in the collar of his brother’s shirt. The arms wrapped around him squeezed. There was no judgment, no mocking sneers or scoffs. No teasing. Just marrow-deep sympathy and a shared raw pain he didn’t think would ever truly go away.

“It’s okay, Dream. We’re going to be okay,” Nightmare whispered and Dream wanted to cry all over again but couldn’t. It didn’t feel okay. When has anything his brother gone through been okay? It seemed like nothing had been okay for a long time. He didn’t like feeling like this. But he allowed himself to be held and rocked until the thoughts of a place he could never return to slowly faded, and the shaking subsided.

When Dream felt... not quite calm, but tired and spent, he stepped back. Nightmare let his arms fall. “I think I can take us out of here now. Something changed just before I found you. I felt a shift... Did something happen with the family that found you?” Instead of answering, Dream nodded in, at least he hoped, the direction he came from. He was too tired to explain the strange magic he’d felt in Noelle’s house.

His brother was thoughtful for a pressing second, then said, gently. “Whatever you did, it helped. Let’s leave it at that and get out of here before anything else happens.” Dream agreed wholeheartedly. He hoped whenever they went next didn’t have a woodsman. “Do you think there is a world out there without a forest?”

The question startled a chuckle from his brother. “You want to go somewhere without trees?” He felt a palm press to his forehead. “Are you ill, brother? Do you have a fever, perhaps?”

Dream swatted his hand away. He was too tired to fight the small smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Where there are no trees, there is no axe.” “I’ve read of places where there is sand instead of dirt, for as far as the eye can see, and grass refuses to grow there.” Now, he could believe that first part. After all, some river banks and dry creek beds were like that, but where grass will not grow? There was no way. “You’re lying. You’re making that up!”

Nightmare laughed and easily dodged his second attempt at smacking him. Cheater. “I don’t know when we’ll find such a place, but I promise one day I’ll take you there.”

“You read too much,” Dream commented, dryly. And if Nightmare wasn’t smiling, he was wearing an expression close to it. He reached for his brother’s hand, without hesitation this time. Nightmare took it, and in a blink, they left the forest and the AU behind.

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totaleclipse573 · 3 months

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I adore how chaotic boom!brothers is. Especially to someone with zero context

Like yes, this is the au where, in no particular order :

Shadow and Eclipse went into debt

Eclipse got turned into a baby

Starline is overly jealous of Shadow

Eclipse has a chip in his brain

Eclipse was at one point convinced he was an assistant to Starline

Starline actively cheats death

Shadow sells his free will to a random stranger in the mountains to get a climbing wall for Eclipse on Christmas

Eclipse goes insane learning how to knit a sweater

Eclipse learns that if he dresses a certain way its legal to break into houses on Christmas

Sticks had once captured Eclipse for the sole purpose of learning his alien secrets (they had tea afterwards)

Eclipse turned giant

Eclipse turned tiny

Rouge turned tiny

Tails turned tiny

Sonic gets Silver style quills

Shadow can see the multiverse

Eclipse had an emotional breakdown

Eclipse threw Starline across the island

Shadow got turned into a baby

Eclipse breaks his ankle running out the door

And I'm probably forgetting to add so. SO MUCH. (+The list is long enough 😭)

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic fandom #boom!brothers au #randomness

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howlsofbloodhounds · 8 months

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Fanfic/AU idea where everyone in Undertale: Something New’s Underground somehow regain all their memories of the all the timelines before.

Maybe they regain them because of something Flowey, being the only one who remembered everything now that Chara/Frisk/Sans/Killer are gone, did or said.

They remember everything slowly, bits and pieces. But enough to remember what Sans and the Human did (who they believe is Frisk). And nothing but Flowey’s word that “Sans” was somehow taken, and the Multiverse exists.

And basically the main idea is that the rest of the Underground comes to an agreement.

They want to know why Sans did what he did, and potentially rescue him from whoever took him.

Some people (Papyrus) believes Sans needs to be saved, others believe he deserves to face justice for his crimes (Undyne).

So Asgore decides to send Undyne and Papyrus off into the wide Multiverse with Flowey, since he remembers everything clearly.

I don’t know how exactly they’ll manage get access to and travel in the Multiverse, though. Maybe a magical doohickey or something.

Or with a Player’s help, possibly.

And the whole adventure to find and track down “Sans” is basically Paps and Undyne slowly regaining memories, remembering more and more about how Sans appeared to betray, kill, harass, and torture them for no obvious reasons.

Besides the human being the only factor.

Them struggling with their sadness, betrayal, confusion, anger, and fear. Doubt. Still missing Sans. Hating Sans. Loving Sans.

How Sans appeared to have changed drastically at some point, how his soul was always different shapes and colors. His eye-lights always missing, or only having one.

The various bruises, injuries, and cuts across his malnourished and beaten body that was obviously never given proper care or time to heal. How, in some timelines, he was even missing limbs and fighting without them still.

How, in some timelines, he’d kill them without a second thought. And in other timelines, he’d break down sobbing and apologizing.

How he sometimes didn’t seem to know who they were, in various SOUL shapes. And how he’d sometimes start attacking them as if he was an animal. On sight, without any of the usual patience, thought, or learned experience.

How he was rarely ever far from the human in most timelines, but in others he’d run and hide from them. And how, no matter timelines, how fiercely protective he was of the Human in battle.

How sometimes he’d have back and forth banter with the human freely, and other times he would never speak or look at them unless given permission to.

And the Hunts, and games of hide and seek. How the Human seemed to be able to control the shape of his SOUL and behaviors based on certain words, sounds, and gestures.

Just Undyne and Paps having two different ideas of what happened to Sans, and what should be done on the off chance that they find him.

Flowey struggling with years worth of trauma and memories, and just really, really, really, not wanting to be anywhere near Sans or the Human again.

Just a Multiversal traveling, justice seeking, traumatized little gang trying to find answers and clues.

And how they would react to Killer. And how Killer would react to them. And them learning that Sans is gone, has been for a very long time, and they won’t get most of the answers they’re looking for from Killer.

Papyrus struggling to realize and accept that Killer isn’t his brother. His brother is gone, and he never noticed or knew.

Maybe Undyne believes that it’s a trick to dodge responsibility for his actions.

Or maybe she doesn’t accept Killer as his own person, but rather something that only exists because of the Human or Nightmare, thinking they did something to Sans to make him forget who he is.

(She isn’t too far off, but the conflict it could cause in Killer’s attempts to come to terms with his existence and identity would be interesting.)

Maybe them realizing the one who would have the most answers about what happened in their shared timeline being STAGE 1 Killer, and them trying to intentionally but stealthily trigger him to get answers.

But the more they force switches, the more they cause memory loss and distribution amongst the STAGES.

To the point Killer keeps having panic attacks anytime he’s in ST1, and ST3 starts confusing them for Chara or Nightmare and starts trying to attack them, run, or act submissive if all other options are out.

The risk of triggering ST4 gets higher and higher, who absolutely WILL kill them on sight. Because Chara gets more and more active the more memories are revealed.

And eventually the stress and fear starts getting to him, to the point that ST1 starts hiding behind ST2’s emotionlessness and apathy in an attempt to remain stable and secure.

And, of course, ST1’s fear starts influencing ST2 and he immediately starts distancing himself from and avoiding Paps, Undyne, and Flowey.

Like, to the point it escalates to physical fights like it did between Swap and Killer. And they keep going until ST2 is forced to retreat whenever his SOUL starts morphing into ST1 and they can’t keep fighting their ex-brother and ex-friend anymore.

And it eventually starts effecting their work performance. Which angers Nightmare. So for his own well being and safety, ST2 rather violently pushes them away. Forces them away.

Until Flowey, Undyne, and Papyrus have run into Core Frisk. Who introduces them to Color, Dream, and Swap. Everyone who has also tried to save Killer.

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mudlarkspur · 11 days

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oh Donnie is THRILLED to be at @tmntstorycomp

unfortunately this doesn't mean she will be any help to the kids @theawesomeninja-xd, they just gotta deal with a teenager pointing at them and screeching because she just realized she's in the multiverse.

(this Donnie is she/they)

Desc under readmore

three image comic, a pen on paper drawing, an ask screencap, and another pen on paper drawing.

image 1. pt1

Donnie (rise AU) is gesturing towards the viewer. There's a raven flying over her left shoulder labeled Muninn. Donnie has an arrow pointed at her saying 'saree w/ skirt rolled up'. She's also wearing a crop-top style choli, has a tilaka painted on her mask between her eyebrows, and is wearing assorted jewelry (earrings, arm cuff, several necklaces, a belt). She has three scars on the left side of her jaw across her mouth.

Donnie: whomst the fuck is this?

image 1. pt2

Donnie and Muninn from behind, Muninn has landed on her shoulder. They're looking at a rough redraw of the comp banner.

Donnie: another brother?

image 2

screenshot of an ask by theswesomeninja-xd featuring a drawing of multiple child/pre-teen turtles wandering around that says 'You see some preteens and kids walking around, looking a bit lost but otherwise fine. Do you want to approach them?'

image 3:

three images in a row of Donnie getting more and more excited, making an 'eeeee' noise in the background of the shot. Muninn is exasperated.

Muninn: oh come on

Muninn: yeah, I see 'em

#tmnt competition #au crossover

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abhainnwhump · 7 months

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IMYM Chapter 1

Sadistic Experiment: Nightmare

Masterlist || Next Chapter ->

Snap.

He didn’t even need to turn around. Dream’s arrows glowed with bright blue light, so they were too easy to spot. His idiot brother should have thought that through when he designed them. Nightmare’s black tendrils splintered the attack into two.

The Lord of Negativity strolled across the field without a care in the multiverse. The screams and bloodshed meant nothing to him. He attacked Birdtale for a reason. Besides the fact that this AU was obnoxiously cheerful, it was the perfect place to draw the Star Sanses to. The jagged cliffs, dark sky, and high altitude made it difficult for the Stars to fight together. The monsters fled the scene long ago, which gave the teams more fighting room. Nightmare dodged another of Dream’s arrows as he surveyed the current status of his team.

Dust had Blue in a one-on-one battle. The hooded skeleton locked the Star in a miniature arena made from sharpened bones. Blue bounced around, swinging his giant hammer made of teal magic. He used one of the fallen trees as a springboard to gain the upper hand. While he was full of energy, Dust showed no emotion, which wasn’t uncommon for him. His movements were robotic and bored, like he wanted to be anywhere that wasn’t here. Even his pistols were slower than usual.

Across the field, Dream tried to fight off Killer while watching out for Horror. Killer flirted with Dream between strikes, making them blush and scowl in embarrassment. Nightmare smirked at his awkward aura. Dream bashed Killer’s ribs with his bow before drop-kicking him. Nightmare assigned Killer to distract his attention. Usually, he would handle his twin, but this time, he was after a different member of the team.

From the corner of his teal eyelight, he caught Horror sneaking up behind Dream. He gripped his blood-coated ax tight. Horror glanced over to Nightmare, and he winked in response. Horror raised the weapon above the guardian’s head and shot it down for a clean slice. Dream must have sensed his emotions due to him spinning around and screaming. He fiddled for his bow, but it would have been pointless.

A blast of black paint stuck Horror’s forearm to the cliff wall. Nightmare stepped behind one of the pine trees, laying his back against it as he smirked in anticipation. Ah, there he was.

The attacker was an athletic skeleton in a brown and white outfit, wielding a paintbrush as tall as he was. He was around five-foot-seven. He wore a sash of colorful paints across his chest. Black paint smudged his left cheekbone, the edge hiding behind a thick brown scarf covered with black marks. Ink’s shifting eye lights glinted with mischief. He flipped Broomie and held it out to Horror. “Come on, eggshell! Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to chop someone’s head off? I didn’t think that head injury of yours would destroy your common sense.”

Horror growled. No one talked about the oversized crack in his skull, especially as a joke. The larger skeleton ripped his arm free, tearing his pale blue sleeve in the process. Dream took his chance to slip beneath his arm and run toward Ink. “Thank you. Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” he said.

“Pfft, you’re fine,” Ink assured. The artist looked around with a red question mark in his left eye socket. “Now where did Killer go-”

A knife sliced his small brown jacket. Killer leaped down from whatever perch he was watching from. He and Horror circled their prey. The two Stars stood back-to-back. Dream loaded their bow, and Ink spun his paintbrush. Nightmare itched to join the battle, but he knew he had to wait. If he planned this out correctly . . .

Ink pulled one of his paint vials from his sash. Dream spotted it and gulped, shaking his head. “Ink, no. You’ve been having bad effects with-”

“It’s going to be fine. Calm down!” Ink ignored him and downed the red drink in a single gulp. His eyes turned into a crimson target and an exclamation point. A sharp smile spread across his face, matching Nightmare’s grin. This was what he was hoping for.

Killer and Horror launched themselves at the Stars. Dream shot an arrow to knock Killer’s knife out of his hold. Blood oozed from the wound in his hand, but Killer didn’t budge. The knife was still tight. Ink went on a rampage, throwing spears of black paint at Horror. Nightmare fed on the emotions caused by the red vial. Anger, aggression, and obsession. Ink chose a target, and he wouldn’t let them go.

Now.

Nightmare waved his black skeletal fingers and focused on Ink’s aura. It was his first time trying his magic on the artist. Ink lacked a soul, unlike the rest of the Stars, so his solution was to drink bottles of paint. He never understood how that worked. Nightmare had never tried to manipulate artificial emotions before, but it was easier than he expected. All it took was intense concentration. He channeled Ink’s new anger elsewhere.

Ink froze mid-attack, clutching his skull and stumbling. Horror stepped back, unsure what to think of this sudden change. Nightmare twisted his wrist, and Ink gritted his teeth. He threw one of his paint daggers at Dream.

“Dream,” he said, speaking as if the word hurt. “DUCK!”

The golden guardian followed his advice, and the dagger hit Killer instead. Killer stared at the now-solid paint protruding from his upper rib. “Are you serious?”

“Ink, what’s wrong?” Dream asked, “Why are you attacking me?”

Ink didn’t answer, only narrowing his eye sockets. Fury burned through his bones as Nightmare squeezed his hand into a fist. He harnessed Ink’s worst memories and feelings about his twin. Despite being on the same team, there are a select few topics they’ve never seen eye-to-eye on. He subconsciously told him to fight Dream. He warned him that if he didn’t, he would suffer humiliation and pain. The artist cringed, and Nightmare felt a tug in his hand. He’s fighting back. Interesting.

Straining, Nightmare poured all his power into controlling Ink’s emotions. He screamed and fell to his knees. Dream ran over to his friend and placed his hands on his cheekbones. Golden magic flowed from his fingertips, feeling like pins and needles against Nightmare’s magic.

Ink’s eye sockets fluttered as he shook his head and groaned. With a bit more encouragement, he flipped Dream on his back and wrapped his hands around his neck. Dream coughed and kicked, trying to get his friend off of him. Neither Killer nor Horror knew how to react to Ink’s behavior change. Killer glanced at Nightmare, pointed the tip of his knife at the Stars, then air-sliced it across his neck. Nightmare shook his head and whispered, “Not yet.”

“Get-out-of-my-head!” Despite his grip on Dream, Nightmare knew Ink was trying to talk to him. Between the fake emotions, Ink’s defiance, and Dream’s positivity, Nightmare struggled to keep him under his control. Dream’s powers are just about balanced with his. He made a note of the latter two; it would be important later. Nightmare’s eyelids went heavy, and his black apple soul started to ache.

Dream’s eye sockets narrowed. “Ink, hold on. Just don’t fight me and I can help you!” He covered Ink’s mouth with one of his hands and held the other up, summoning golden light that practically radiated positivity. He cried out and shoved it down onto Ink’s torso. Tendrils of yellow spread across his body and Nightmare winced. The black malice on his hands dripped and burned. He pulled his hand back and snapped his fingers, setting Ink free. The artist gasped as his eye lights switched back to their default: a green circle and a yellow star.

Dust was distracted by Ink’s screams and the gold light; he dropped his attacks for a few seconds. Blue took the opportunity to smash his hammer into Dust’s lower spine, releasing a loud thump. Dust fell to the ground, desperately trying to catch his breath.

Blue put his hammer back on his shoulder. “Dream? Ink? Do you guys need backup?”

“No, it’s okay, Blue. Everything is going fine.” Dream’s voice sounded raspier than usual thanks to Ink strangling him. It almost made them look intimidating. Almost. He watched Ink get back to his feet with dazed eyes before staring back at Nightmare. “Brother, I’m going to give you one chance. Leave this place and leave Ink alone! What has he ever done to you?”

Nightmare chuckled, stepping into the light. His hand was still distorted and it looked like the tips of his fingers were missing. “Nothing; he hasn’t done anything. Anything yet.”

“What?” Ink coughed and stared at him. “If I didn’t do anything to you, what the hell was that for?”

Nightmare didn’t answer, only smirking in response. Ink stared at him with his mouth agape, like he had told him a disturbing joke he only now understood. Dream huffed and summoned another bright blue arrow out of thin air. He loaded his bow and Nightmare prepared his tendrils to parry the attack, but Dream turned his heel at the last minute. The arrow shot into Horror’s open eye socket with extreme accuracy.

Horror howled and grabbed his eye socket, the pupil in his blood-red eye tiny with pain. Blood oozed between his clenched fingers. Even Dream winced at seeing him suffer so much; he never liked excessive violence. Seeing his team in pain, Nightmare scowled. Now��his idiot brother has crossed the line.

The dark king stood up straighter. His form distorted, warping his body into an incoherent mess and his face into a melted monster. He hated how pitiful he must have looked. Dream’s aura and dissatisfied look did nothing to help.

“Killer! Horror! Dust! We’re leaving. My work here is done.” Nightmare’s body dripped more malice than usual, turning the grass from green to gray. The plants withered and crumbled at his feet. One of the tendrils shot across the field to grab Dust, who was obsessing over Horror’s injury. The smallest of the Murder Time Trio yelped at the black limb wrapped around his torso. Nightmare dragged the other two killers toward him. He held them by their hoods like a mother cat holding the scruffs of her kittens, keeping a close eye on Horror.

“Boss!” Killer complained, struggling in his tendril.

Nightmare ignored him. With his remaining tendril, he drew out a circle in the ground, wide enough for himself plus the others in his tendrils. With a shudder, the liquid malice turned into a whirling blue and black portal. Dream tried to say something, but Nightmare cut him off with a growl. “Don’t you dare pity me, brother. The look doesn’t suit you.” After a long glare at his brother, Nightmare jumped in, bringing his henchmen with him.

Birdtale’s pine trees and cliffs faded away and were replaced with gray stone walls, a high ceiling, and a throne with a tall back pedestal. Despite the minimal sunlight slipping through the grayed curtains, most of the hall was coated in darkness. The place was practically built out of negativity, and the energy and power soon seeped into his body. Soon his form returned to his preference: a tall skeleton in a white dress shirt, a black waistcoat, a teal tie, and heeled boots. A silver pocket watch dangled out of his right breast pocket. Nightmare was very picky about his fashion choices.

Killer, Horror, and Dust dropped to the ground. Dust winced as his rib cage crashed against the stone. Horror grabbed his hand and pulled him up with ease. His shot eye still bled, dripping through his closed lid, but it didn’t seem to be causing him pain.

“Why . . . we leave?” As deep as it was, Horror’s voice was no louder than a whisper. His head injury damaged his mind, leaving him with slurred speech and memory problems.

“Yeah, we were winning!” Killer protested, “Especially with whatever the hell you were doing to Inkblot. We could have taken over that AU!”

Nightmare considered a response. He still hasn’t told his team about the plan he had for Ink, even though he’s worked on it for almost four months. Once he started a project, he tended to refuse to tell anyone until he was certain it would be completed. Besides, the MTT’s expressions will be worth it if he hides the plan a little longer.

Nightmare cleared his throat and turned to them. “If everything goes according to plan, I’ll explain this evening. You three are going to need to trust me.” He had his hand on the door and pulled the long handle. “Besides, Horror is injured and needs medical care.”

“You and your bullshit plans . . .” Dust muttered to himself. Unfortunately for him, Nightmare happened to have excellent hearing for someone with no ears.

The dark king turned and scowled down Dust’s uneven eye lights, one red and the other a mix of purple, red, and blue. He hid under the brim of his baseball cap as Nightmare glared at him. “Are you doubting me? Because if you are, that’s a very bold move.”

Dust averted his eyes as much as he could. “No, boss.”

“Good. Now go heal yourselves up; it would be unfortunate if those injuries became infected. Killer, that includes you too.” Nightmare added the extra bit as he caught the hate-dripping skeleton attempting to sneak off. “I mean it, you can’t go walking around with an injured rib cage just as Horror can’t go around with a bleeding eye.”

Killer groaned but didn’t argue further. The dark king watched his team disappear to the infirmary. A half-smile crept on his face, but he waited for them to leave before he smiled fully. He left the throne room for his office.

When Nightmare first created his castle, he made sure his study was easily accessible, as it was the room he spent the most time in. He made it to the door with a full moon design. The long room had a high ceiling with a solar system design painted on it. Bookshelves lined the side walls with a mix of traditional hardcovers and scrolls. At the end of the corridor was a large dark wood desk covered in stacks of papers.

Nightmare sat in his black office chair. Each of his drawers had a black handle, though one had a matching lock. He shifted the shape of his pointer finger into a key. Breaking the lock, he pulled out a small, dusty-purple notebook with a single word branded on the cover.

INK.

The dark king flipped through the pages. Everything he knew and learned about Ink since he initiated this plan was written in black cursive. What he hated, what he loved, his apparent fears, and the traumas he learned about. He knew the least about the last one. Was the artist aware of this? No, of course not. He would never find out about this. It was his personal secret. In the middle of the notebook were his most significant notes. Ink’s paint vials.

Eight drawings were split into boxes across the two sheets. The left side was colored red, orange, yellow, and purple, while the right was green, blue, teal, and pink. Nightmare dipped his crow-feather quill in a pot of ink and wrote in the red box.

October 12, 20xx

As expected, the red vial controls anger, obsession, passion, and danger level. I theorize it even makes his magic stronger. With effort, the fury can be harnassed against any monster he feels a spark towards. He’s even willing to fight his friends. However, he resists my advances more than I thought he would. Plan PV appears to be the best option, unfortunately.

Nightmare leaned back in his chair, thinking of his next move. All but one box had writing in it—the pink vial. Plan PV was only a hypothesis, one that almost guaranteed success, but he didn’t want to use it. Nor was he certain it would even work. For all he knew, the pink vial could cause more destruction than production.

Destruction . . . AUs crumbling . . . strings . . . Error.

Oh, how he had been blind. It was such an obvious answer that could have saved him weeks of careful planning. The dark king growled at his own ignorance. Regardless, he couldn’t remain in his self-hatred if he wanted to get anything completed.

He shoved the notebook into his pocket and drew a portal into the ground. The sludge edges formed a light blue center, darkening as it opened up the world.

Nightmare went to find the Guardian of Destruction.

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