Writing Prompt #12
Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.
Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.
Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.
While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.
These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".
There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—
"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.
But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.
He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.
"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.
"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.
"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.
He doesn't look away from the man.
"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."
"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.
The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.
The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"
Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."
"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."
He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.
"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.
"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.
"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."
"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.
"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."
"Him."
"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."
"Why me?"
"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."
This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.
"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"
"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."
Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."
"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."
"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."
"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."
"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."
"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.
"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.
"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."
"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."
"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."
Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.
Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.
"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."
The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.
"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.
"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."
"I have more than one."
"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."
"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"
There is a pause.
"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."
"Resolve what?"
"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."
"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."
Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."
The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."
"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."
"They will have already muzzled him."
Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.
"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."
"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—
Clack!
"sluuuuurp!"
"Master Timothy, honestly!"
"Sorry Alfred!"
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Double Trouble... switched?
A tiny little thing for a lovely artist who's comics and art brings me much joy and inspiration.
Inspired by the lovely: @somegrumpynerd
And specifically this post, and this comic :3
Have fun :D
Warning, Very unedited and just me having fun ;P
(also most work was actually finding the posts to make the links work now enjoy this fanfic of which I will admit it took a few hours but I will not tell you how many words as I got no idea. Because I wrote the whole thing on tumblr and got no word counter here. Enjoy :D)
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Dream knew something was wrong the moment he woke up.
His magic... it was being prickled by something. Over and over and over. It felt a bit like the sting of negativity but different.
That can't be right.
Drema struggled to full awareness as his mind tried to think of the reason why he felt the way he did.
Normally he only felt these type of prinkles and pain when he was near a lot of negativity but it had to be a lot a lot. As in, Nightmare using his own aura to fight him a lot.
But as he used his own magic of empathy he only felt a soft contentment and easy happiness in the air.
Had... Had the fight with Nightmare have afteraffects after all?!
They last fight, the one of the day before, had left Dream drained and tired. Nightmare and him had been fighting and Dream had tried to use his aura to get Nightmare to stay still and listen to him. Dream hadn't expected Nightmare to use his own magic aura. More surprising had been the fact that Nightmare's aura didn't clash with his own but instead reached him. It had burned and as Dream had said, he felt drained afterwards.
Dream hadn't thought too much off it. Especially as Nightmare had seemed exhausted and confused by it as well and he had quickly retreated afterwards.
But maybe Dream had been wrong.
Why else would he still feel this discomfort when there was nothing but positivity around him?
Dream groans as he finally manages to sit up in the very soft bed with many many pillows. Weird, Dream didn't have this many pillows on his bed and neither does Blue. Maybe Ink painted some more for them? Thoguth Ink rarely joined in on their sleepovers and Dream can't remember seeing Ink the day before.
Worse is that he feels disbalanced. Nothing feels right at the moment and the discomfort is making him cranky. He should just find Blue. Blue always makes everything better and has great ideas on what to try.
Yes, his best friend will help.
Dream opens his sockets only to stare in shock.
This... is not his room.
It isn't any room he recognizes.
It is a large beautiful place with a large, very large, bed with way too many pillows and soft blankets. There is a large bookcase just filled with books. The curtains are dark and shut. Next to him is a tiny alarm clock which reads that it is still very early in the morning.
Something else about his vision is off but Dream can't quite place it. Something that should be obvious but he can't make sense of it. He turns to the side and reaches for the bed only to freeze.
That is corruption. On his hand. And arm.
Dream feels himself start to panic as his soul pulses fast. Oh no. Oh no. What happened?! Calm down. Calm down-
Then he sees one of those corruption tentacles nad Dream flinches away, only to completely loose his balance and fall over sideways with a quiet yelp.
He lays frozen but can't feel any curiosity or hear anyone react.
He is starting to have an idea where he is and he isn't sure how to feel about this.
He slowly crawls to the side of the bed, only to keep misjudging the distance and he thinks he lost his depth perception which isn't good news.
He manages to get out of bed and only slightly panics at the sight of his own legs covered in corruption. Are it his own legs even?!
Dream pushes himself upright only almost fall over and he has to grab one of the poles of the large four poster bed to catch himself. He looks over his shoulder and is confronted with the sight of four tentacles shifting and idling behind him, all seemingly coming from his own back.
Dream takes a few unsteady steps and softly curses the way this feels. How does Nightmare DEAL with his tentacles?! How does he deal with the extra weight of it on his spine?! Dream already feels uncomfortable.
Dream manages to get to one of the two doors and opens it. He lets out a sigh of relieve when sees the bathroom. He flicks on the ligth in the room and manages to get to the mirror.
There in the mirror stands Nightmare. Staring at him in absolute shock.
Dream... Is in Nightmare's body.
Which means.
He is not at home.
Dream is in Nightmare's home.
-------
Nightmare tries to walk wiht confidence but it still takes effort to not overbalance for his lacking extra limbs.
When he woke up feeling comfortable and energised he had immediantly panic. He normally only felt that after they managed to make an universe fall fully into negativity and shift the balance.
Feeling that at home meant his boys felt unhappy and miserable and he would not have that.
Imagion his surprise when he sat up only to be in a completely different room and after a glance outside to realise he was in the Omega Timeline.
The one place he never had managed to get somekind of access too.
Nightmare wanted out right now because it didn't take a genius to figure out what happened.
Dream's and his magic had interacted strangly and connected with each other. Both had felt drained. Now Nightmare was in Dream's body.
Meaning, Dream was most likely in Nightmare's body. Meaning Dream was in Nightmare's hideout with his boys.
Nightmare didn't have time to panic or to have a crisis. He needed to somehow get to his own body and make them switch back. His minions needed constant supervision and management. Nightmare only just got Dust to agree to set an alarm clock and Horror had been improving with overeating.
He needed to get to them.
Which meant.
Be the perfect Dream so no one would think something was wrong and enable him to sneak out and search for himself.
This is starting to get annoying.
Nightmare had gotten dressed in Dream's clothes and got ready to leave.
Only for Blue to have shown up.
Which is what brought Nightmare to were he was now. Trying and struggling to maintain a facade he hadn't had time to prepare.
"You sure you are okay Dream?" Blue keeps staring at him as if he expects Nightmare to just spill the beans.
Wait. Does Dream do that? Does Dream just tell Blue everything? Probably right? But what do they normally talk about?
Nightmare is honestly unsure what it is that is between his brother and Blue. Nightmare knows that Blue and Dream are always together and Dream seems rather protective about Blue.
Nightmare realises he is taking too long to answer and puffs up his chest and speaks, being thankful for the small amount of luck there is for him in this multiverse that the voice he speaks with still sounds like Dream "Of course I am alright! It is a wonderful day and I want to spend it heloing others!" Dream and his ever need to please people and be liked.
Blue continues to grin at him, one brow slightly raised "Wowie! you are in a good mood today! Happy to hear you seem alright after the fight from yesterday."
Nightmare nods "But of course! Now! Lets get to work." and he starts walking. Only slightly falling fore over as he tries to balance for soemthign that isn't there.
"Dream!" Blue is by his side and tries to help him upright. The worry around him is slightly surprising.
Nightmare holds up a hand as he tries, and succeeds to steady himself. Old memories return of how to walk without his tendrils. He got this. "I am fine. Just a slight misstep... shall we?" Wait, how does Dream speak anyone? All the interactions Nightmare can remember were from them in battle. Which Ngihtmare knows is not a good reference for when you speak casually with others. The last interactions that Nightmare had with Dream wihtout fighting were... were from back at the tree... when both had been 6 and before their magical growth.
...
Ngihtmare doubts Dream still acts as his six year old self, even if he sometimes seems just as naiev to the world.
Blue frowns at him "If you are sure. You sure you want to go out already?"
Nightmare nods "But of course!"
Blue gives him another grin "Well. If you are sure. Let's go!"
----------------
Dream doesn't know what to do or say.
What do you say to your enemies when you are suddenly in their boss's body, who happens to be your twin. like. How do you decide what to say?
Dream tries to remain quiet and just watch. That is probabyl what Ngihtmare does right? Just watch and glare and tell them to not bother him?
Their happiness is burning him. That he has realised.
Dream had wanted to tell them he is going to take a moment for himself but then second guessed himself. How much would Nightmare tell them? Would he tell them that their happiness burns him? Would he be honest? Would he even tell them? Or would he just stand up and leave? Were those four expecting him to give them orders? To tell them what to do? Or would a simple 'go do your work' do?
Drema had never realised that positivity burned his brother this badly.
Did... did that mean that being around Dream burned him as well? That going near him at all in battle was as if he was being burned?
Dream knows his aura can get... a lot. but... He never considered... He never thought...
Only extreme negativity hurt Dream and all positivity energised and powered him...
If low levels of positivity already hurt his brother... would only extreme levels of negativity energise him? Would only extreme levels feed him?
Was... was Nightmare attacking AUs not as much an attack on the multiverse but more of a way to feed himself? To keep himself alive?
Dream just... didn't know.
"Boss! boss! what do you think? Awesome right!"
Dream eneds a moment to realise Killer is talking to him. Dream looks over and freezes at the knife Killer is tapping between his phalanges with a concerning speed.
Dream sits there frozen before panic overtakes his soul "What do you think you are doing?! Stop that right now before you hurt yourself!" only to realise that he spoke form panic and worry. Oh no he totally messed up! Dream wasn't thinking and-
Killer pouts but lays the knife down. Horror snorts "Told you boss would be unimpressed and mad at you for practising that."
Killer mutters something about it being cool and Nightmare just being a worrywart.
Dream blinks. Excuse but Nightmare is a what now?
Cross looks at him "What is the schedule for today boss?"
Killer snorts and copies the sentence at a softer volume but in a sillier voice.
Dream can't imagine that would be allowed but before he can even think of a fitting reaction or answer one of Nightmare's tentacles moves over to Killer's skull and gives him a soft tap.
Dream feels mortified. What do you mean those tendrils just... do that?! Dream hadn't even thought or considered that! Wait... Was... Was the corruption still negativity and so technically Nightmare... Was it like a muscle memory and so instinct for his body to do that? That implies that Nightmare has done that a lot.
Killer pouts more and crosses his arms befroe he mumbles "Fine fine. I get it. I get it. Sorry Crossy."
Crossy beams and the happiness stings Dream as Cross answers "Apology accepted!" then Cross looks at him with bright sockets "But what will we do today boss?"
Dream glances around the room as he tries to think of something that would fit. He has no idea what Nightmare does when he isn't out fighting him. Dream remembers the books in Ngihtmare's bedroom but Dream doesn't want to lock himself in there. He will go insane and just not know what to do. He needs an excuse to search around the castle. Something that will fit with their vision of Nightmare.
"I... need to... research a few things for our next... raid." Dream tries to desperately remember what Nightmare sounded like and which words he used. Dream thinks his lucky stars that Nightmare's body still sounds like Nightmare.
Cross nods "okay! Need our help with anything?"
Dream slowly shakes his skull as he tries to follow their emotions to see if he is managing to sell this. "No. I should have what I need." Okay, good so far, now how to say he will get them if he needs help. euh... "If I have need... of you. I know where to find you." That should work... right?
Killer nods as he is already out of the room and gone with a shout "Going to the cats!"
What does he mean CATS?!
Cross nods "Okay! in your office?"
office? office! An office will no doubt have information that will hopefully help Dream. Dream nods as anwer and Cross seems to accept it before he goes around grabbing the plates.
Horror asks him if he wants lunch together or brought up and Dream can feel the stress rise. damnit why are these four so focussed on Nightmare? They turn to him for everything! It makes Dream miss Blue. Blue knows what to do when and helps him more than anything.
Dream ends up saying together. Seeing as they straight up called and pulled him over for breakfast that is probably the go to. Horror seems pleased by this and nods as he starts cleaning the food in a careful manner.
Dust has just been staring at him with a frown on his face.
Dream stares back and feels the need to look away but Nightmare wouldn't look away. Dream waits and waits.
Dust huffs before leaving wihtout much of a word. Dream will take that as a win.
Dream leaves the kitchen and sees Dust disappear into another room, Dream can hear the sounds of a tv coming from there and will assume Killer is in there.
Okay... Now...
Where the hell is everything? He has no idea what the layout is of this place and it was pure luck he even found the staircase that morning to begin with.
He makes his way back to the staircase and follows it up. He makes sure he isn't watched or followed before starting to silently open doors to check what is behind each one.
Why did his brother have to be dramatic and get a castle?!
--------------
Nightmare hates this.
His cheeks are starting to hurt from the constant smiling. It is emotionally and mentally exhausting to be happy all the time. No one leaves him alone and everyone seems to have something they very pressingly need Dream's help for.
Which. Meant you. Are not important things!!
Dream needs a better work/home balance and learn to say no.
Nightmare can't even just return to the house that is, probably, Dream's and just hide for a moment because Blue has been by his side the whole time.
Nightmare will admit he is starting to get why Dream likes Blue so much adn seems so protective of him. Blue is a beacon of positive energy and motivation. Blue also seems happy to help Dream with anything and everything.
Honestly at this point Blue is the only reason why Ngihtmare hasn't started losing his mind at Dream just yet.
Everyone around him. the whole time. noise or people and their emotions. the pressure of everyone looking at him and trying to get his help. The amount of people trying to just stand next to him and soak up some of that positive aura is disgusting.
Nightmare has half the mind to kidnape his twin just to make sure that he knows he can actually say 'No' and tell people to piss off because it is starting to get concerning.
Nightmare hasn't had the impulse to throw this many people through windows in a while.
One more person from somekind of universe runs up to him "Dream Dream! I need your help!"
Nightmare has to take a very deep breath as he tries to control his temper. easy and calm. easy and calm. He manages to pull the smile back full force and turns to them "But of course! Happy to help. What do you need help with?"
The person smiles "Well! I wanted to do my grocerries but I ended up not going because I was watching this movie and it was jsut so good! Anyway. Would you mind doing my grocerries for me?"
Deep breaths Nightmare. Deep breaths.
The person continues on "The next part just started and I also really want to see that but by the time that one finishes the store will be closed!"
Deep. Breaths.
They continue the smile "And obviously I will pay you back later but-"
"No."
they blink. Nightmare stares back.
They frown "Waht? Why not?"
Nightmare honestly tries to keep it in but why would he? This is an idiot and they deserve to know "Because this is a result of your own neglect of your responsibilities and I don't see why it would then be up to me to fix this. Especially as you yourself still have the chance to do it yourself. But instead you are trying to use me and get an easy out. Not only that but you are also asking me to pay for this?"
The slowly cross their arms "You enver minded before..."
Anger. Rage. Nightmare manages to just stare "Well I mind now. Do it yourself. If you are adult enough to live on your own wihtout supervision you should be able to take care of yourself." Nightmare turns and walks away.
The person is enraged at him and Nightmare feels very smug about it. The person shouts after him "You are being a real asshole there Dream! And very selfish!"
Ngihtmare just keeps walking. don't commit murder in Dream's body. that is a very sure way to get others to notice you are not him.
Blue still walks with him and Nightmare glares "What?"
Blue blinks and tilts his skull "I am just happy you are finally starting to take my advice to not help everyone with everything. You gotta limit yourself or get burned out." Blue stops him and stares at him worried "Are you finally ready to tell me what is wrong Dream? I am worried about you..."
Nightmare considers what to say before sighing "I need a break." weak. Nightmare just, can't handle this. The constant demands and people asking him to do things. It is different with his boys. the real happiness they feel for him may sting slightly but it is real. The happiness of these people. It just isn't truly on that same level. There is no actual affection or care or even understanding behind it. It is about possession and demand and feeling like they earned it.
While they earned nothing.
How does Dream deal with them?
Blue nods "Yeah. Lets go to my place. People are less likely to bother you there. and If anyone asks I will just tell them you are sick."
Nightmare stares at Blue "I don't get sick. I can't get sick."
Blue snorts "Dream. The only three people in the whole multiverse that know that are, you, your twin, and me. If anyone asks we tell them you are sick." and he grins.
Ngihtmare stares at Blue for a moment "You are the only being in the multiverse with a functioning brain."
Blue snorts and laughs "Nightmare will be happy to hear you say that Dream." and he grins widely.
Nightmare snorts himself, a little inside joke just for him, "I know what I said."
They manage to find Core for a ride. Ngihtmare is relieved by that as he hasn't quite figured out how Dream makes portals just yet. Luckily Blue had decided for him that they would catch a ride instead of trying one themselves.
-----------
Dream reads through another report on the changes and shifts in the balance between positivity and negativity. another one that Dream had thought had been an attack agaisnt the multiverse but instead this report spoke about the high positivity levels making the universe unstable and them having to shift it.
The report speaks of a mild success and mentions a message to Error that this universe could be skipped for destruction for a while as they had managed to make it stable enough to last it a bit longer.
So many reports. So many universe which had been unbalanced.
Compared to all the reports Drema had read until now only about 10% spoke about getting higher negativity levels for Nightmare or getting supplies in a raid.
Everything else? All about universes that needed rebalancing and a shift in the right direction to keep them stable.
Dream leans back in the chair and yelps as the tendrils ache. He looks up adn groans as he sees the tentacles once again completely braided together. He doesn't want to have to try to undo it again and-
"Sup Boss!"
Oh are you kidding him?!
Dream had thought the people in the Omega timeline could be pushy or clingy. But it is nothing on these four. They just. Keep showing up!
It is like they are taking shifts! Dream manages to get one out and a new one will show up within 15 minutes.
Dream sighs and looks up "Waht do you want this time you. you..." you... you... Dream doesn't want to be mean. But Ngihtmare probably insults them... right? "Worms."
Cross's whole face turns sad and worried "Worms?" Oh Dream feels so bad about this. Oh no he looks so sad and hurt and why did Dream say that?
Killer however grins widely "worms! new nickname lets go!" he grins widely
Horror just looks at him with a raised brow "You okay boss?"
Dream feels himself get anxious as he tries to channel some stern face but he is unsure how well he is managing "what is it?"
Cross just keeps looking down at the floor with a sad expression as he mutters the word 'worms' to himself.
Horror looks back "Oh Killer pushed Dust down the stairs."
Drema blinks before looking at Killer "You did what?!"
Killer grins widely as he throws out his arms "I would never!"
A second later a very angry Dust shows up "He so did! The asshole pushed me!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did not times infinity! Hah! I win!"
Dust glares and tries to tackle Killer but Dream, or lets be real Nightmare's tentacles, stop him and catch Dust mid air.
Dream takes a few breaths but he gives up "No pushing each other down the stairs! I can't even believe i need to say this!"
Horror speaks up "Again."
Dream feels himself stand up straighter "Again?!" luckily all of them seem to not hear the question in his outraged cry as Killer nods with a pout and Dust just huffs.
It is slightly concerning how unbother Dust looks by being up in onf of those tentacles.
Dream rubs his face as he tries to keep his spinning thoughts calm "I am going to be quick about it. I want all four of you to behave for ten minutes so I can look through my reports and figure out where to go to next!"
His brother had so many reports. If Dream could find some positive universe and spread a tiny bit of negativity then Nightmare, in Dream's own body, would feel that and come to Dream and then Dream can try to get them to switch back.
Silence answers him and he looks up to see all four of the gang look at him and nod. Dream waits for a moment before nodding himself "Good!" He has to focus on the tentacle and imagines it putting Dust down before it actually listens. The tendril seems unwilling to let Dust go.
Dream takes a deep sigh and sits back at Nightmare's desk as he starts reading through reports. He looks back up only to see all four of the gang relaxing around him and Nightmare's desk.
Dream rubs his face. considers going against it before just going wiht the flow. Fine! if they want to watch him read reports so be it! Dream turns back to the many reports as he tries to figure out which place would be best. By the stars Nightmare has so much information and he straight up has a whole catagory on different universes and what key differences are and how to spot these when first entering an universe.
There is just so much knowledge and understanding about all of these universe. Nightmare even took time ot learn which universes are most likely to interact. to cross over. or to even be able to hold a stable connection to serve as trading route.
Dream looks up and spots that those stupid tentacles had moves again! Each of them holds one of the four gang members and Dream is trying to think on how to put them back down.
Then he sees all four of them... asleep. peacefully asleep as they lay either rolled up in the tentacle or seem to hug them in their sleep.
Dream stares for a moment and wonders just how often this happens for that to be the natural reaction before he turns back to the reports. the answer has to be in these.
----------
Nightmare feels the spike of negativity as soon as it happens. It si fear from somewhere in the multiverse and he sits up straight.
Blue looks over worried "Dream?"
Nightmare knows it within a second with absolute certainty "My brother." it is dream. Dream has entered an universe and is... causing fear?
Maybe a trap. Or... a beacon.
Blue frowns at him "Are you sure you are ready for this Dream? I don't think you are... fully rested yet."
Nightmare is already up and nods "I am sure." Now the hard part. He focusses on the magic so much like his own but different. the only thing that is avaiable to him is Dream's magic and it will have to do. He focusses on the positivity and wills it to open a connection to where he feels the spike of negativity.
A portal opens before them.
Blue nods as he grabs his hammer "Let's go."
They step through together and Nightmare looks around. He is quick to spot himself.
Nightmare glares as he crouches low before he is off like a bullet right at his own body. The shock on his own face is satisfying.
More satisfying is tackling himself as he and Dream tumble down the sloop into the overgrowth behind it.
Dream yelps and tries to retaliate but Nightmare knows his own body and his own limits. Nightmare is quick to get Dream in a headlock and hisses "Give me back my body."
Dream groans "I am trying! Let go so we can figure this out before they find us!"
Nightmare frowns and waits for just a moment to see if they are followed. He feels some slight confusion and worry from everyone else but there seems to be a bit of a standoff.
Nightmare sighs and lets go of Dream "Quickly then."
Dream huffs as he gets up only to stagger as Ngihtmare sees his tendrils flex. Nightmare snorts "Haven't figured out how to keep them still yet?"
Dream glares at Ngihtmare wiht his own face "Shut up. Just tell me you have na idea how to switch us back."
Nightmare sighs "Obviously we tried to recreate what happened in our last fight." Nightmare focusses and calls forth his, Dream's? this is getting confusing, aura.
Dream hisses slightly, no doubt feeling the burn, before nodding and quickly doing the same.
Both hold out a hand and inch their aura's around each's other's aura and towards the other twin.
Nightmare feels his own magic reach him and it feels like a blast of cool air on a summer day. He lets himself follow it and-
His body burns by the positivity right before him and he jumps back. His tendrils helping Ngihtmare move back and away from Dream.
Dream lets out a loud sigh of relieve as he lets himself sink to his knees "Oh that feels so much better..."
Nightmare nods as he flexes a tendril "I agree."
A moment of silence and peace between the two as neither makes the move to attack first.
Dream speaks up first "I... I never realised how... how much just tiny bits of positivity hurt..."
Nightmare shurgs "You get used to it. and sometimes it is better to feel the sting than the alternative."
Dream nods as he shoots Nightmare a smile.
Nightmare frowns "You can say no."
Dream blinks "Excuse me?"
Nightmare sighs "You should say no sometimes. It is unhealthy to keep giving everything you have to everyone. especially if they don't actually need help or are even thankful or grateful for it." Nightmare shoots his brother an unimpressed look "Learn to manage your work/home life."
Dream blinks before laughing and shooting him a grin "You sound like Blue."
Nightmare nods "You should listen to him more then."
Another moment of peace before both their groups get to them. Neither feel much for fighting and both call for a retreat very quickly.
Both have a lot to think about anyways.
---------
"Wait?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU AND YOUR TWIN HAD BEEN SWITCHED?! THAT EXPLAINS SO MUCH!"
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truly truly Neil Charlie Todd triumvirate is king please share any thoughts you have on them
OH BOY ANON YOU HAVE OPENED A CAN OF WORMS.
I. OPENING THESIS?
Basically, here’s my abstract for this whole thing:
(Les Misérables, trans. Isabel F. Hapgood)
And having put this down, I’ll ask you to overlook it, lol. Or treat it as a very loose guide! (If you haven’t any idea what the context of this refers to, here’s a quick rundown: a chief is a leader and someone who people rally behind. A guide is an enthusiast about all things and an advocate for progress, someone who checks the rampant idealism of the chief. The centre is warm, loyal, and acts almost as a mini-Sun for the chief and guide to orbit around, to stop them shooting off on their own wild trajectories.) In the interest of complete transparency, reading Les Mis at a young age had this irreparable effect on me where I now have to think of every triumvirate as a chief/guide/centre dynamic, but I don’t think this model applies 1:1 towards Neil/Charlie/Todd. Instead, I think of them a little as composites, interplaying with each other – Charlie as a guide who would much rather be a chief, Neil as a chief who works better as a guide, and Todd as a centre who’s never given the grace to grow into that role. Let’s go!
II. CHARLIE AS THE CHIEF-GUIDE
Charlie is like if rowdiness was a Guy. He’s big, he’s brash, he’s the instigator and he’s the captain and he’s the shameless one and he’s a side character! I have always found this very interesting whenever I watch DPS; despite Charlie’s main character-ness he is secondary, and doesn’t even get his own sideplot in the same way that Knox (for example) does. He’s a born leader who by virtue of the trappings of his story is relegated to supporting others, although you can so, so clearly see him fighting for space in the story. He gets pushed into being a guide almost by default; only the trait of enthusiasm really applies here. If Neil wasn’t there he’d be the leader of their group, no question. And the thing about Charlie is that he gets things done. He’s the one pushing the most for the re-creation of the Dead Poets Society after Neil, he’s caustic about things that are in his way (“Well, why don’t you stay home?”), people follow him! See Knox running after him, asking to be taught:
Charlie is the man of action – the telephone stunt is the biggest incident of that. And the way the boys gather around him afterwards as he regales them is chief-like; here he is acting as the chief, because this is around the same time that Neil’s chief role starts to slip away from him. But more of that later.
The big thing is that Charlie never gets to really assume that role of chief, because Neil is always there. I talked earlier about how he pushes for the re-creation of the Society; well, Neil is the one who finds Keating’s old annual and reads it aloud to them. Charlie is the one cutting down the guys’ concerns about sneaking out after school: Neil is the one who suggests it – more than suggests it! Almost commands it, in a way that leaves little room for debate:
(Note that in this section, it’s Charlie who does the arguing for Neil, who doesn’t speak except to lay down the law and then ask who’s coming. Real king and knight energy.)
Charlie never quite manages to edge into centre stage. You can sort of see how there might be resentment there – perhaps there would have been if they had gone on uninterrupted. But then of course Neil dies, and Charlie assumes the chief role by default, but it’s no longer glorious or something he can covet. But he does it anyway; he wakes up Todd, he breaks the news to him, very, very gently, he wipes Todd’s mouth with snow when he vomits and tells the others to leave him alone. But by this point, Charlie going into the chief role he’s so good at isn’t enough to stop the splintering of their group or his own expulsion.
III. NEIL AS THE GUIDE-CHIEF
Part of Neil’s tragedy is that he would be good at the things his father wants him to do! He’s a wonderful all-rounder, he's the perfect all-American specimen, there’s no doubt in my mind he would have been a great doctor – except he wouldn’t, because the enthusiasm and the motivation would have been lacking entirely. (As someone who just did a shit ton of medical school interviews, yeah, they would have sniffed this guy out really fast. Or maybe they wouldn't… not sure how stringent they were in the ‘50s.) He would have been technically great. But being able to do something doesn’t mean you should; these are the things that Mr. Perry conflates and which Neil is never able to verbalise to him, except in a way in which he thinks he’ll understand:
In this scene, when he talks to him post-performance it’s not “I enjoyed it”, but a very simple, “I was really good”. And despite this concession of terms he says it when his father can't hear, because he knows he would never relent, oh God.
Actually, a lot of what I wanted to say about Neil has already been said in Charlie’s section. (The summary is basically that you must imagine me offstage with a megaphone as the movie plays, yelling, “YOU TWO NEED TO SWITCH PLACES, FUCKOS”.) Neil is a good leader, but that doesn’t mean he likes being one, or that he should be one! He has a few characteristics of a guide – he’s enthusiastic about everything, he has this boundless kind of delight in the things he loves (not idealism; that’s slightly different). But this is honestly where the model falls apart. I don’t think that Neil would make a great guide either, logic not being his forte; the irony is that the role of the triumvirate he most fits IS the chief, it’s just that that’s what kills him. The responsibility that comes with being someone who “speaks and people listen” isn’t good for him – this dichotomy of having “control” over the friendship group/no control over his personal life is terrible. He does get to lose the chief role, but it’s not in a way that is good for him; instead this manifests in a loss of control that happens very very quickly, which just makes him reach for ways in which he can control his own life. And besides, stepping outside of a leadership role with a great deal of responsibility and losing control over the course of your own life are two very different things. I just think that he should get to go offstage for a little bit and rest, with zero expectations on him ever. (Also there’s something here about how he gets to play Puck – a side character who has major effects on the story but doesn’t have to actually put his skin in the game. This is what I think Neil should get to do In Real Life.)
IV. TODD AS THE PROTO-CENTRE
One thing about Todd is that in my mind, I always imagine him as much redder than he actually is in the movie. I don’t mean I imagine him to blush more often – I mean ruddier, more flushed. Going back to the Les Mis quote – in my mind he does “possess all the qualities of a centre, roundness and radiance”! Todd is a catalyst like Keating in a way that Keating isn’t; this is never explicit at all but he has always felt to me like someone who inspires others by their presence. He’s such a wonderful, calming, grounding influence. Even when he talks to Neil and they have that non-argument he tempers Neil and reminds him what’s at stake without looking down on him. And when he realises how serious he is, he goes with it and supports him to the best of his ability – he says “Oh, Neil, Neil, you’re crazy” but it’s fond, he’s overjoyed for him. And you can see similar behaviour perhaps to a lesser extent with Charlie in the way particularly he calls him Nuwanda after his request, which is taken as ridiculous by other characters:
And even after Neil’s death he does so, refusing to go back to normal:
But the reason I’ve put “proto-” for a prefix is because these are all singular occasions. The thing is that I think Todd could be that brilliant, grounding, assured man, a lighthouse of a man, almost. But he isn’t – he clearly isn’t – at the beginning of the movie he is shy and diffident and the non-argument I mentioned early does go a little sour, because while he speaks from a place of concern and love, his anxiety manifests in the conversation and makes him a little less tactful than he might have been otherwise. If things had gone on better than they went, and if Todd had been allowed to grow and develop more and without worry, he really, really would have blossomed into this kind of centre, this very steady man who would have reminded Neil of the consequences of his actions and made Charlie care about the consequences of his. But he doesn’t get to do that – by the time he grows and becomes more confident it’s too late, the worst has already happened.
V. SUMMARY
I’m so sorry, anon, this is a prodigious answer to what was a very simple ask, but you hit on the subject I have Very Strong Feelings About. Not to toot my own fanfic horn, but there’s an excerpt from the fair folk AU which I think sums this up pretty well:
TL;DR: Charlie gets pushed into a secondary position which doesn’t suit him; Neil gets pushed into a leadership position which suits him, but he hates; Todd is willing to step into that secondary position as a behind-the-scenes supporter, but never actually gets that opportunity. Hence the tragedy. Hence the taking of lives. Hence how many fucking tears I have shed over this movie, Jesus.
(I had a lot of fun writing this – thank you for giving me a reason to!)
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