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#the weary bones only want to be held & clasped like they belong somewhere
levi-weaver · 3 years
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Lucid Loneliness
Dream finds himself alone again at night after a long day of work. He wishes he wasn't so isolated, but he has to keep going. Who could even know what he's going through?
Credit goes to @sagaverse for the alternate multiverse
Dream belongs to @jokublog
Core!Frisk belongs to @dokudoki
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Once again, Dream was alone. So very alone within the dusty, dark, and seemingly dreary depths of the abandoned warehouse he found himself in. Pulling one mattress up to the back wall, Dream made that corner as comfortable as he could for the night. Hours of weariness tugged at his sluggish limbs, but he pushed himself to gather a bit more for the barren space.
A couple fluffy blankets and a decent pillow from the boxes nearby made this corner feel a little less lonely. Closing his sockets, he could almost imagine curling up next to Neil or even his brother there. Tempting as it was, distant whispers and soft feathery impressions stated otherwise.
Slowly, he took off his dense circlet and unlatched his billowing cape from himself. Chilling as the quiet was, there were no screams nor stifled fears to indicate an attack would come any time soon. It was cold comfort when you were running for your life and the hope of others, but it was comfort regardless. This night paled to the anguish and suffering of many skirmishes before this point. Battles that left his bones bleeding at the marrow, and Nightmare's encroaching negativity making most of his options next to useless. His hand squeezed at the fabric of his cape to stop himself before thinking of the screams, be it his internal wails or those he heard around him. Try as he might, he could never quite distance his mind from the voices he heard. Some were desperate cries, others more enraged. The strongest of their innermost feelings made them so coherent as to screech their importance. Dream found it a miracle that he got any sleep at all with the constant commotion no one else seemed to hear or understand.
He hugged the fluff and fabric on him closer before turning to the moonlit window further off. So many souls needed aid, but he needed rest just as much now. If only a few people could do the same with him, but the lost guardian knew it wasn’t to be. What would they even say if they found out he was living like this? Without a friend, a home, or a hope, constantly running or fighting for his life, and having to mask all of this lest he feel even worse. That wasn’t even counting how selfish it felt. The guardian of positivity, breaking down in front of those he was cheering up. He would only involve more people in his life, and risk them falling to his brother just for the apple he now held. Shaking his skull, Dream closed his sockets once again. At least tonight, it would be no more than a grisly nightmare. It was time to head back to the meadow, the Tree of Feelings, Nightmare, and Neil most of all…
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In a clammy sweat, Dream jolted back up from his makeshift bed. His wavering eyelights darted around the warehouse in search of anything coming toward him with only the grey light of early morning illuminating the space. There was something here, and its aura seemed to creep in everywhere. Ever-changing, always watching, and yet eerily calm. Whoever or whatever it was, it was getting closer and closer to his bed. Whether it wanted to use him or just approach him, Dream wasn’t going to take any chances. Frantically, he summoned his staff into his shaky hands. Balling it tight, Dream held it close to himself, prepared to ready his shield if needed.
From the corner of his socket, he saw it come out of the shadows. Two dark, gaping sockets seemed to follow him as it came allegedly out of nowhere. This being having a personage comparable to the morning’s shadows and light didn’t ease his anxiety much either. Bracing himself for the worst outcome, he raised his staff upward. He wasn’t going to keep positivity alive shaking in his boots after all. Steeling his throat as best he could, Dream declared. “Whatever you came here for, I won’t let you stomp on their hopes or get the apple!” Just as he swung down his staff, its body dissipated from where it was. As quickly as it disappeared, it reemerged on the opposite side of the bed. Before he could so much as turn, it extended its hand out instead. With a soft smile, the being calmly replied. “You defend both valiantly, but I came for something else. You’ve been alone for some time, haven’t you?” Dream froze even more, if he hadn’t already from the shock alone. Out of all the sounds that could come out, a composed response was the last thing he expected. Taking a moment to process what even happened, he lowered his staff. This seemed far too strange to be real, but they didn’t seem dangerous. He looked up again with disbelief and confusion. “H-How could you know t-that? I haven’t s-sensed or seen you before. Who even are you…” Unperturbed by his questions, they hopped onto the bed to be closer to him. Their own sockets held a bit more warmth if that was even possible. “I’m Frisk, Core Frisk if you need to address others about me. I’ve witnessed all things in the multiverse, but I’m not always physically present. You’ve likely overlooked my presence many times.”
His staff disappeared as he leaned closer. Gently, Dream took their hand into his to shake it. “You must know who I am then. But I still don’t understand why you’re here. If it’s not for the apple, then what?” Core Frisk clasped his bony palm in turn. “Dream, you’ve thought about this for some time. But I’ll ask you this. Do you have somewhere to go back to?” At the question, he shrank into his collar. This was getting more and more apparent that his silent pleas had been heard. Even so, he didn’t want to get his hopes too high. It could mean something else entirely. “No… not anymore. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t stay there safely. It’s been like that for a long time.”
Core got off the bed and walked past multiple crates and shelves of unused product. Quickly grabbing his cape and circlet, Dream rushed after them in bewilderment. “Why are you walking out here?” After a while, the two of them stopped in front of the warehouse door. Core Frisk’s hand stretched to grab the knob. “I can show you a place where you can go. You don’t have to be alone anymore, Dream. You never really were to begin with.” He turned back towards the warehouse for a moment. This still seemed too good to be true, even his brother could attack the place if he knew. “What if that puts you or anyone else in danger? Many people still want me to keep themselves happy, or to drown the multiverse in misery.” They placed a hand on his shoulder before clutching his shirt firmly. “They can never truly reach me, and I’ve kept it a secret to most. You’re not selfish for receiving what you need. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”
Dream adjusted his cape and circlet, then he turned to the door. He kept a hand on his shoulder though. “Alright, you’ve convinced me. I hope this really can work after all.” With that, Core paused for a moment before opening the door. In place of the cold, dreary street was an endless white expanse that stretched on forever. Blue clouds drifted overhead, and lush grass lined a stony path. A rush of different feelings and new echoes caught Dream by surprise. Quite a few people were inside that one plane, he could feel it. He took his first step inside after the grey child. They held Dream’s gloved hand with a tender smile across their face. “It may work more than you realize with some time. There’s plenty of people for you to meet, some that would appreciate seeing you. Welcome to the Omega Timeline, Dream. I’m glad that you’re here.” He returned the smile and looked at the path ahead. “As am I, thank you again. Let’s go meet them then.” Dream ran across the stone with excitement filling his marrow. His heart hadn’t felt this light in a long time. Perhaps this time around, he could truly find new beginnings. While the darkness of the past will dwell, Dream still had plenty to look forward to.
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"Starting over is an acceptance of a past we can't change, an unrelenting conviction that the future can be different, and the stubborn wisdom to use the past to make the future what the past was not." -Craig D. Lounsbrough
"Dreams are renewable. No matter what our age or condition, there are still untapped possibilities within us and new beauty waiting to be born." -Dale Turner
I hope you all enjoyed this one-shot. Even if this past week has been rough for you, it doesn't have to be faced alone. There's plenty to do next week and beyond as well. Have a wonderful weekend, everyone.
-Levi
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devsash · 5 years
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Through the Darkness - Part 8
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(Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7)
((Mood Music))
Stormsong Monastery, Boralus
Mehe strolled unhurriedly towards the building amidst the lifeless, shadowless figures sprawled everywhere. Without stopping, he waved a hand at the door. It crumbled into dust as he stepped inside. He immediately became aware of a large presence somewhere within.
Ahhh... a deep voice murmured, cutting through the other whispers. This one may yet be worthy to walk the streets of the Sleeping City.
Mehe cocked his head, his eyes narrowing at this new voice. "Who are you?"
It laughed, the sound brimming with power. You will learn my name in due time. It did not sound much like the other voices he was used to hearing.
"What do you want with me?" he asked.
I see the truth within your heart. Your anger. Your guilt. The weight of this otherworldly attention bore down on him. You failed to protect the one you love.
Mehe scowled at the reminder. "Something which I will correct now."
Ah, but it will happen again and again. You will fail each time. You are too weak to keep him safe and you know it. The voice lowered enticingly. I can help you.
"I hold power now," Mehe said, holding up a darkness-wreathed hand. "It's enough to safeguard him."
The voice laughed again. You think this is power? it asked, amused. What you hold is nothing compared to what I can give you.
Mehe frowned, trying to think through the euphoric magic swirling through him. "What are you saying?"
I have tasted your essence, child of the Void. You hunger for more. Only I can give it to you.
"I don't need more power," Mehe said firmly.
Then you will lose your mate, the voice said, growing cold and hard. You cannot defend him. You lack the strength to turn the tide.
"Never," Mehe growled. The Void pulsed within him as the bladelike projections flared from his back.
Then join me. The voice was inviting once more. Become my champion. Serve me and I will reward you.
Mehe's lips quirked into a smirk. "A tempting offer, but first, I want the shadow of that bloody tidesage."
Very well then, the voice said in an indulgent tone. Perhaps I'll give you the chance to prove your worthiness of my gift. The Void tugged him towards a set of closed doors. The human waits nearby. Show him no mercy and I will grant you power beyond your wildest dreams.
Mehe obeyed, approaching the doors. They opened without a sound, revealing Brother Sarno. The human knelt before an altar of blood and shadow, murmuring frantic prayers under his breath. The folds of darkness in the centre of the altar parted, revealing a great orange eye. Ignoring the grovelling human, it swivelled towards the Ren'dorei.
Watching. Waiting.
Mehe stepped into the room. "You can't run," he said, smiling as the sword reformed in his hand.
The tidesage started. He whirled around, a bolt of Void energy flying from his fingers.
Mehe batted it aside with his sword. "How dare you take my mate from me, insect?" he said conversationally.
"He belongs to us." Brother Sarno raised a hand, Void energy gathering at his fingertips. "Through him, we will break the prison of the God of the Deep!"
Mehe arched an eyebrow at the title. "Is that who you are?" he asked, glancing at the eye.
His only reply was laughter in the back of his mind.
The tidesage yelled, letting loose a flurry of Void bolts.
Mehe raised a hand. Dark magic surged from his palm into a shield, deflecting them from him. He hurled his sword at the human's arm. It cleaved through his flesh, pinning him to the altar.
The human screamed. His blood dripped onto the dark folds and the voice roared in triumph.
A worthy servant indeed! I accept your tribute. Dark tendrils snapped over the tidesage, immobilising him. Take your time. Let me feed on his fear.
Mehe nodded. "Now, where were we?" he asked pleasantly, turning back to Sarno. "Ah, yes. Taking my mate from me." He reached out for the edge of the tidesage's shadow, wrapping it around his taloned finger. "I admit the thought of consuming your essence is irresistible, but I'm not the only one who doesn't want you to die so quickly."
To his credit, the human's face remained expressionless but the spike of panic that whipped through his essence made Mehe smile.
"Perhaps if I did it slowly you might survive," he mused. Stepping closer, he dragged his talon over the human's cheek, leaving a line that began to weep scarlet. "Though for how long, I don't know," he continued over the muffled sound of pain that came from between Sarno's clenched teeth.
The human began to struggle in vain against his bonds as laughter echoed in his head.
Yes. Make him bow down before you.
Mehe smiled, relishing the tidesage's suffering. "You were too busy chasing your own personal glory at the expense of my mate," he said with a smile as the bladelike projections arched from his back. "What you really should've been afraid of... is me.”
The human stopped fighting, his energy spent. He watched Mehe, trembling uncontrollably.
Mehe tilted his head slightly as he raised his hands. "Now, how shall we do this?"
Like unravelling a dress, the voice whispered. Like pulling a flower's petals apart.
Mehe nodded. "I can do that," he said, twitching his taloned finger.
The human's shadow stetched like a long black thread gradually unspooling into his hand. Sarno's muffled shrieks of torment drew a pleased chuckle from Mehe's throat. As the last of his shadow detached itself from him, the tidesage slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Mehe yanked the sword out of the man's arm. He raised it over his head to deal the final blow.
No. I still have need of him. The voice sounded pleased. You have done well.
Mehe shrugged indifferently, letting the blade vanish from his fingers. Anticipation rose within him as he smiled at the essence pooling in his palm.
Take it. Its power is your birthright, as Ren'dorei.
He nodded. "Yes, of course it is. I was a damn fool to bar myself from the Void." His eyes slid shut as he drew the essence into himself, savouring its sensation.
"Begone, creature of the deep!" a familiar voice cried somewhere behind him. "In Elune's name, I cast you out. Leave this place!"
The deep voice exclaimed in fury as powerful Void energy swept through the room, banishing all hints of that strange presence.
Mehe blinked, the usual susurrus of voices murmuring in the back of his mind. He whirled around, only to see Anas standing before him.
Exhaustion was etched into the Kaldorei's countenance. He slumped against the wall, barely able to hold himself up. "Mother Moon, preserve your son. Bring him back to me," he said, stumbling towards the Ren'dorei.
The wings on Mehe's back flared as Anas’s large hand touched his chin, tilting it up. Dry, chapped lips met his with a familiar tenderness, silencing the voices in his mind. He stared, shaken as Anas pulled away.
"Bring him back... to me," the Kaldorei repeated. His legs gave way and he fell to his knees with a grunt.
"Anas!" Mehe knelt before him at once, concern for his mate piercing the haze of his euphoria. He cupped the taller man's cheek, searching for injuries on his person. "Why are you here? Where's Goldeneyes?"
"You... need me." Anas nuzzled him weakly.
"I'm fine, dear one." He held up a Void-darkened hand, smiling at the strength flowing through him. "These bloody tidesages are regretting the day they laid eyes on you."
Anas shook his head with a weary sigh. "I know it feels good, but you can't hold onto it. Release it."
"I am Ren'dorei. Born of the Void." Mehe frowned. "Don't you see? This power is my birthright."
"It is already warping your thoughts," Anas murmured tiredly. "Please. If you've ever trusted me, release it."
Mehe growled in the back of his throat but closed his eyes, focusing his power into his palm. The dark wings vanished from his back as a pure black orb began to take shape in his hand. It grew larger and larger as he concentrated all his magic into that point.
Anas touched the Void orb. "By Elune's grace... be purged," he whispered, grimacing in pain as his eyes flared purple. The orb throbbed once, twice, before dissolving into nothing.
The haze vanished from Mehe's mind as bone deep exhaustion settled over him. "Bloody hell," he said, rubbing his forehead. "What was that all about?"
Anas smiled, his eyes returning to their usual silver. "There you are... my Mehe." His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped against Mehe, unconscious.
"Anas? Anas!" Mehe clasped his mate's shoulders and shook him, but the Kaldorei did not respond.
He glanced up at the sound of hurried footsteps as Goldeneyes appeared, panting. "Took one look... at my... clothes... knocked me out," he wheezed, gesturing at Anas.
Mehe grimaced. "It doesn't matter now." Reaching into his pocket, he drew out the portal shard. He hurled it to the ground and it shattered, opening a portal to the gates of Stormwind. "Come," he said, carefully lifting his mate into his arms. "Let's leave before the tidesages get back."
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So i’ve been having massive dmc/dietrich feels so you all get a dump of what the guy is dealing with once he finally meets dante long after the rebellion, this is post dmc4 and i feel like dante as he gets older and has been learning will on occasion calm down and use his brains, we know hes not dumb, he just cant be assed. here hes realized that his usual strategies might not work, also its under the cut cause its kind of a lot and i dont wanna horde space on peoples dashes
“Well she asked that I take you too him. You wanted to meet the one who knew what was left out of the stories. I can’t guarantee he’ll be particularly friendly but he’s a good host at least.” Tyr shrugged though the motion seemed only half hearted. The man himself seemed to lack any real conviction or emotion though so it wasn’t surprising. Dante himself wasn’t terribly surprised when the guide provided by his contact was a demon. He was investigating old demon history after all. He’d never cared for the old legends but even he had to admit there were parts of it that made no sense.
“Yeah yeah. I’ll just shut him up if he’s being an asshole.” Dante replied lazily patting the guns at his hips. The shadow looked almost skeptical at this while the hunter kept one hand on ebony. This place was giving him the heebie jeebies after all. The entire town had looked abandoned yet lived in, a perpetual fog making it all the more erie. They stood before the doors of some grand hall, more then likely the throne room.
“Right here we go.” Tyr raised his hands and shadows crawled up the much too tall doors before pushing them open. A groan resounded echoing through the mostly empty room. Iron scones were along the pillars with strange pale blue flames burning, much like the rest of the castle. The only other noticable thing in the room was the throne. Dante was fairly surprised by what he saw there. A man sat atop the throne though seemingly asleep. He looked older, though perhaps no later then 50′s with long silvery almost white hair, and a neatly trimmed goatee, wearing a suit that reminded Dante of some of his more obnoxious clients. Business men who thought they could get away with more because they had money.
“So this is him?” He heard. The voice was raspy as if long unused. The older mans eyes now open and locked on Dante, both a fierce electric shade of blue that made the hunters own seem dull.
“Right Dante Redgrave may I present Dietrich Ailis.” Tyr gave a sweeping bow as he gestured from the hunter to the man on the throne.
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"So are you just one more asshole who hated my old man and came after me?" Dante snarled at the idea. He was so damn tired of cleaning up the messes that man left him. Dietrich shook his head at this and leaned forward elbows on his knees and hands clasped. He looked older somehow as long hair shifted across his shoulder, and that his expression changed to something almost nostalgic casting deeper shadows across his face.
"No. For once that is not the case, well mostly." The younger man looked at him curiously at this.
"What the hell does that mean?"
"I didn't hate Sparda. At least not truly, I never could despite what he did to us. In fact I loved him dearly, more so then a devil should ever be capable of. After all we are said to be without hearts to feel such things, it's a gift humans were granted that both demons and angels were denied." Dietrich shook his head a bit just sending more white cascading over his shoulders slowly to pool in his lap. Dante wasn't sure why that detail was so distracting, perhaps it was something in how fluidly the man moved despite moving so little at all. Maybe it was because of something so pure white on a soul so black. "I fell in love with the image of a fool with a bleeding heart. Sparda was a hero in the text book sense. He would never let those who were being oppressed suffer for long. I always knew that letting him lead the charge against humans would end badly."
"Then why not do something to stop him? You make it sound like you could have." Dante wasn't sure why he wanted an answer, but it bothered him to think things could have been so different. Dietrich sighed at this sounding weary, as if there was a tiredness settled even into the mans bones after so many long years that he only remembered now.
"Because of the fact that I loved him. The army was where he belonged, where he shone like the brightest star in our sky. I was the lead strategist certainly, but he was our commander, our king in all but title. To take him from the field would ruin him. So he went and he met those frail terrible creatures and fell for them. Realized what us taking their world meant, how it would be a slaughter. He couldn't allow it. He had a code that was understood by none yet all." He held out his hands with palms up as if beseeching some unseen figure.
"And you still insisted on fighting him?"
"I did. I fought him the hardest. You surely wonder why if I loved him as I say I do. I fought him because I have always placed home above all and our home was dying. I placed those in my care above myself. It was painful, certainly but he made it easy in a way. I remember even now the words he said to me. 'You're a monster. You can't kill the humans. They can't possibly beat us. I thought you were my friend, my brother'." Dante was surprised at the absolute ache he could feel in those words. As if reliving them tore something in the demon to shreds better then any blade.
"He didn't know."
"He didn't. So he struck us all down. Including me. Though I was in ways his equal so he wasn't strong enough to kill me. However for my perceived betrayal I was cursed and stand here now. King of the dead, last to know what happened then, and so very tired." As he spoke he'd leaned back pulling aside the collar of his shirt. Dante could see the top of a wide jagged scar across the mans shoulder and collar bone. If it was done with force edge he could only imagine how bad the rest was. "I became the monster he saw me as. Now I just want rest."
"So you really are just some shitty devil after all that needs to be gotten rid of." Dante hissed the words as if what had been said justified the need to eliminate Dietrich to avoid the danger the elder presented.
"Perhaps. Though you'd have never guessed until I told you. Let this be a lesson to you Dante. I'm sure you've learned it before but a refresher is nice." He rose from his throne looking down at the hunter with a bored gaze and burning blue eyes. The flames of the lamps suddenly burned brighter and the room seemed to glow, casting the shadow of a large winged beast across the wall behind Dietrich. "We are not all we seem. After all even the devil was an angel once and he was gods favorite. Do not let perceptions and foolishness tint your path so you make a mistake you will regret."
"Fuck you." Dante snapped back watching as the elder snarled at this baring fangs far from human. The disguise was so good, so almost on that it made the places it was wrong stick out all the more. A devil who would walk amongst humans yet never be able to blend among them.
"You may yet live to regret those words boy. You are the only one who can kill me because of this curse. This poison in my blood he placed that won't let any other end me, but I will not go easily. They wish for rest as well, but not surrender." Suddenly it appeared, a wild blue fire like those eyes and so much here. It condensed, coalesced into shape, into figures behind Dietrich as if the ghosts of those past were here themselves to stand at his back once more. Dante had a feeling he would indeed regret some of his choices just this once.
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Dante looked up at the other from where he kneeled. Every muscle screamed at the idea of this much less standing, and he was weary down to his bones. No fight had pushed him so far. Yet the older man stood there looking unphased despite the blood running down the side of his face, and the tear carved through his armor. Dietrich looked as if he'd stood within the eye of a storm, and while he hadn't come out unscathed he'd certainly proven a force of nature.
"I never stood a chance did I?" Dante asked wondering if the man would let him leave with his life. While he didn't like the idea of giving up he'd learned over time when to hedge his bets.
"That's just it." Deitrich sounded so weary suddenly, once again the old man with a torn jacket and blood down his face all the same. "Once upon a time you did. You would have been the death of me. This story would finally end. I could have peace. Now, now you can't. You may be able to kill Dante, but you only kill villains. Somewhere along the way you lost sight of the fact that I am just that. We are all heroes in our own minds, most of the time, it's convincing others to believe this that's the trick."
"You always had a way with people Sire." Tyr said finally speaking for the first time in a while. "You were the greatest of us once, the one who sought to take the burden of a whole world on your shoulders. It's why we loved you all in our way, it's why they stay with you. It’s why I wanted to see you finally rest. Seems I made a mistake." 
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