#dream lantern

[five-rivers]

Dream Lantern Chapter 2

I said I'd work on something unreasonably ambitious.

AO3 link.

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The boy had grown quiescent since leaving the serpent behind.  No doubt entranced by the exquisite untruths revealed by Falsehood's token.  With the connection Nocturne had forged between themself and his dreams, they could feel his awareness softening, memory unspooling, as he tended to something more akin to sleepwalking than waking dreams.  

With a delicate touch of power, they shaped the tone of his dreams into something more agreeable to them.  A veneer of cooperation that would, in Phantom's current state, seem completely solid.  They did not need another incident like that with Falsehood.  

Nocturne should have remembered what they had told themself earlier.  The boy wasn’t stupid.  Young, yes, naive, yes, ignorant, yes, uneducated, yes, yes, yes, and a hundred more things besides, but not stupid.  And he most certainly counted Nocturne as not only an enemy, but a dishonorable one.  

Correctly, of course.  At least from his perspective.  The rules of conflict Nocturne followed were not ones Phantom would consider fair, but they were still rules, and ones that had been codified long before Phantom was even a twinkle in his parents’ eyes.  

Even so.  Nocturne hadn’t been planning on simply letting Phantom’s kin go.

Phantom was both useful and dangerous.  Hostages could help ensure he stayed the former while reducing the latter quality.  But now…  The child didn't have a reputation for vengeance, had never hunted down an enemy that wasn't a trespasser, rarely did more damage than was necessary for capture, and released all his enemies, even Nocturne.

But.  Phantom was still a ghost.  And ghosts could hold grudges for spans of time that far exceeded human lives.  

Nocturne would have to keep an eye out for both the mechanism through which Falsehood would twist reality, and a means by which they could effectively contain Phantom even without the threat of keeping his family asleep.  

Although, they could simply release Phantom’s family now.  Avoid whatever Falsehood might otherwise do.  

That felt like losing.  

Nocturne didn’t like to lose.  

There would be a way around it, of that Nocturne was sure.  ‘Letting go’ could have so many wonderful meanings, after all.  Who was to say it was Nocturne who turned to them?  It might as well be considered one of Falsehood’s many tricks as one of Nocturne’s.  

But that had to be left for later.  

Phantom mumbled something at them that was so indistinct even they could not interpret it.  They reached for Phantom's dreams and hesitated for the merest of moments.  

Manipulating a human's dreams like this - the waking dreams, the sleepwalking, the sleeptalking, not to mention the content of the dreams themselves - could have lasting effects on that human.  Permanent ones.  Lifelong bouts of sleeptalking and sleepwalking, recurring dreams, night terrors, sleep paralysis, insomnia, narcolepsy.  Who knew what it would do to a half ghost?

Who cared?

Old conventions were merely that.  Never had they been codified into any laws, only loose systems of ethics followed by those now long gone.  And even then, there had been situations where conventions had to be circumvented, or ignored entirely.

Perhaps Phantom would talk in his sleep for the rest of his unnatural life.  Perhaps he would be beset by night terrors so hideous as to make his waking life seem paradisiacal.  Perhaps his dreaming soul would leave his body every night to wander the Dream Wilds alone, tethered only by fragile silver cord.  What did any of that matter in comparison to what stood to be gained?

What did it matter, when the ones who had established those old conventions, who had maintained those old traditions, were long gone, less even than dust on the wind?

Nocturne teased Phantom’s dreams into a closer connection with his voice.  They were thick and rich, heavy, and becoming heavier.  Falsehood’s token had done what it was meant to, and even after such a short time, Phantom’s light was strengthening.  The colors around them were growing brighter, the distance they stretched before fading back into the Plains becoming greater, the complexity of the surrounding forms increasing, gaining layers.  

Phantom turned towards Nocturne and… didn’t look at them.  Not really.  

Falsehood’s scales were no longer visible on Phantom’s face, having long since sunk into his skin, but his eyes were firmly closed and would remain so, unless he woke.  Nocturne did not intend to allow Phantom to wake.

Despite that, Phantom most likely saw some of the features of their surroundings better than Nocturne themself.  After all, he was the one dreaming them up.  

“It’s so pretty,” said Phantom.  His words were slightly lisped, making their childishness stand out even more.  "It's pretty here."

“I suppose,” said Nocturne, rolling their eyes.  

"So pretty," repeated Phantom, and Nocturne sighed.  Of course it would be something inane, but, unfortunately, this type of dream manipulation wasn't something they could toggle on and off, so inanity it was.  

"We are searching for the sister of Falsehood," said Nocturne instead.  The child had likely forgotten already.

"Who's, hm, who's Falsehood?  Funny name…"

"The serpent."

"Ohhhhhh.  He has a sister?  Do you have like… a thing for snakes?"

"The sister of Falsehood is Longing," said Nocturne.  "Desire.  And if she should take the form of a snake, it is because you made her so.  Think on how to find her, and show me the path."

"Why?"

"We must collect her token to proceed on our path."

"No, I mean, why's she Falsehood’s sister, and not, like, truth or something?"

"There is no truth in dreams," said Nocturne. 

Phantom made a soft noise, one that even Nocturne couldn't interpret.  They glanced down at Phantom, then paused, their eyes drawn to where part of Phantom's tail had slipped free of the blankets Nocturne had wrapped around him.  

While Falsehood's scales weren't visible on Phantom’s eyes, charcoal black and pale silver scales were starting to appear on his tail.  Nocturne shifted the lantern to a better viewing angle.  Not only did Phantom have scales, but those scales were glowing, and growing brighter, brighter.  

Hah.  A little glow worm.  Or a glow snake.  The light in their lantern.  

Soon.  Soon, Phantom would be able to show them the path they must take to Longing.  They only had to be patient for a little while longer.  They only had to want it for a little while longer.  

.

Danny felt both very heavy and very light at the same time.  He supposed the heaviness came from sleep, from the dreams all around them, from the blankets that were chains, and from whatever Nocturne had done to him, and the lightness must just be because he was in ghost form, but that didn’t quite feel like the correct answer.

The tip of his tail lashed back and forth restlessly.  He didn't mean to form his tail, but sometimes it just happened.  The tail, that is.  When he was flying, and stuff like that.  

It felt different, though.  It felt… longer than usual, maybe?  More…  Maybe like he could feel more with it, somehow?  There was a word for that, he thought.  Tactile?

But he was supposed to be doing something.  Something important.  Helping.  He liked helping.  Helping was a good thing to do.  Everyone said so.  Today… tonight?  Tonight, he was helping Nocturne.  

He didn't like Nocturne very much.  Nocturne had done some not nice things.  But they seemed to be trying to be nicer today.  Sometimes, people did try to be different.  So.  Danny was helping.  He liked helping.  

It was very pretty here.  He was sure he'd told Nocturne this already, but just in case, he said it again.  

Nocturne did something that superficially looked like rolling their eyes, but that Danny was sure indicated approval of Danny's observations.  Deep down.  

Movement in the trees caught Danny's attention, and he shifted slightly, tracking it.  There were flashes of blue and orange.  Familiar blue and orange and– feathers?  No.  Fabric.  But– No.  No, it couldn't be.  Couldn't.  There was a feeling, in the back of his mind, that he knew very well why it couldn't be, but he couldn't touch it.  Not beyond his fear about what them being here meant.  

“We're so proud of you, Danny.”

His whole body went stiff, tense, alert.  He knew that voice, those voices, but how could they be here?  He whipped his head around, frantic, trying to spot their source.  The heaviness– he tried to throw it off, but couldn’t.  It slowed his movement, keeping him from getting up and searching, and finding.  

“You've done so much good.  You've done so well.”

He whined.  Too many trees, too many branches, too close together.  He couldn't see.  

“We're so glad you told us, so glad we can see you.”

This time, he caught sight of hazmat, and he lunged at the side of the cage, desperate to get even a little closer to his parents.  But… his tail dragged strangely at the cloth all around him.  

For a moment he paused, splayed out on his stomach, back arched by the curve of the pillows, one hand reaching up towards the bars even as he looked back over his shoulder at his tail.  It was longer than usual, and less transparent.  More solid, too.  Almost more snak–

"Of course we love you, no matter what.  You're our son."

He reached for the voices again, transformation forgotten.  He wanted.  He wanted so much that the want was practically a need.  It was deep in his stomach, and he was starving for its lack.  

“That way,” he begged Nocturne.  “We need to go that way.”

Nocturne, surprisingly, followed his direction.  Danny had been right, they were trying to be nicer today.  They strode quickly through the trees, after Danny's parents.  Soon.  They would find them soon, and they would tell Danny they were proud of him, and that it didn't matter that Danny wasn't human anymore.  

And– It wasn’t only his parents here.  

“You did very well on the last test, Mr. Fenton,” said Mr. Lancer, as he moved through the trees with surprising nimbleness and speed.  “Keep up the good work, and there’s no reason you couldn’t become an astronaut.”

“See?  I told you that you were just as smart as any of us, little brother,” said Jazz, her feathers as vibrant as their parents.  

“You and Sam are the best friends I could have,” said Tucker, his hat oddly beak-like.  

“I think I’m ready to come home,” said Dani.  “For real, this time.”  

“You’re not so bad after all, Phantom,” said Val.  “I think… I’ll stop hunting.”

“You’re our hero, Danny,” said Amity Park, all together at once.  “We’re all safe, and we will let you help us, and you will reach the stars, we’re sure of it.”

“You’ve changed the future,” said Clockwork.

“You don’t need to fight anymore,” said the ghosts.  “Not if you don’t want to.  Not if it isn’t fun.”

“Earth and the Infinite Realms are at peace at last,” said calm voices Danny could not identify.  “Our heroes may turn their efforts to pursuits that will benefit all peoples, of all nations, everywhere.  We may turn our eyes to the future, and the stars.”

Danny wanted it so much.  He wanted it to be real, to be true.  He thought that if they could only catch up…

For a moment, Danny thought they were back under Falsehood’s tree.  Once again, he and Nocturne found themselves under the sweeping branches of a huge tree, but instead of ruby red apples hanging from the branches, there were brightly burnished birdcages, and inside them were dozens of birds.  Dozens more birds perched on the branches, and Danny realized that these were what he had been hearing.  His family, friends, teachers, classmates, and allies had never been there.  Only the birds.  

He held back a pathetic sob and let the blankets bind him again, herding him back into the center of the cage.  He felt his tail clench back at the blankets and pillows in turn, and–

His thoughts derailed in shock.  His tail was so long, weaving snakelike in and out of the pillows and blankets.  It was at least twice, no, three times as long as the rest of his body.  He could feel parts of it wrap around the bars of the cage below the great mounds of pillows.  

It also glowed brilliantly, every scale roughly the color of the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling at home.

“Yes,” said Nocturne, “and it will be very helpful.  Stop fretting.”

Danny looked up at them, hopefully, his heart and core again filled with that earlier, painful, want.

“Yes, but we are now in the court of Longing.  Curtail your babbling.”

Danny hadn’t realized that he’d been babbling, but how else would Nocturne have known what he was thinking?

He let his eyes drift over the birds and the cages as Nocturne stalked forward.  Was Longing one of the birds?  And how did that work, if Longing and Falsehood were part of the same thing?  He looked up as they passed beneath the boughs of the trees and gasped.  In the gaps between the leaves, he could see stars.  Stars– as they were seen in the best astrophotography.  Stars, as if light pollution and smog did not exist.  But then they were nearer the trunk, and the leaves were too thick to see anything but the tiniest of glimpses.  

The floor of the clearing was covered in decorative pillows and brocade throws, and tapestry-like blankets hung between the cages.  It felt… cozy.  Like a sleepover, like a blanket fort.  It made him want to snuggle in, and he did.  

They came to a stop in front of the largest and most beautiful of the cages.  Inside it was a small, drab bird.  

“Lady Longing,” said Nocturne.  “I greet you, and give you the regards of your brother-self, Falsehood.”

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“I greet you as well, child of dreams,” said Longing, softly.  

Nocturne suppressed their frown.  It was difficult.  Even a ghost like themself was still a ghost, and therefore, fueled by intangibles like emotions.  Hiding what they were feeling came naturally only to a few.  

But why that voice?

“What price must be paid to receive your token?”

Longing fluttered her wings.  “I wish that you would not do this, child.”

“And I wish that you would not take that voice,” said Nocturne, not bothering to suppress his sneer.  “What is the price for your token?”

Longing fluffed her feathers, then smoothed them back down, movements agitated.  “Oh, I wish you would not do this, I wish you would not.  Not all things one desires are meant to be.”

What hypocrisy from the one who wore the very face of yearning, who spoke with that desire.  They knew some things were not and could not be, not outside of dreams.  But their current goal was not one of those things.  They would succeed.

“I ask a third time:  What price do you demand for your token?”

“Three things are wanted by all: one that is lost when it is given, one that increases when it is given, and one that cannot be taken, only given.  These things I desire.  These things I require.  These things I must be given, if you are to receive my token for which you long.”

“All from the boy, I presume?”

“As if you could give me any one of those things,” said Longing, haughtily.  

“A secret,” said Nocturne.  “Then knowledge, perhaps.  Or faith, or trust, or a thousand things besides.  There are very few things that cannot be taken.  Dignity, perhaps.  Trust again.  Does it matter which one you receive?”

“Only that they fulfill my conditions.”

“Well, then, go ahead,” said Nocturne, looking down at Phantom.  “You must–”

“What happened to my tail?”  

It had taken the boy long enough to notice, and longer still to react.  Nocturne wondered how long he’d been staring pointlessly at his own scales.  

“What– What happened to my legs?  Why can’t I turn them back?”

“Child,” said Nocturne.  

“No, where– What?  What’s happening?”

“We must have Longing’s token to move on,” said Nocturne, trying to soothe Phantom’s dream again.  

“I’m not doing anything without knowing what’s going on!”

Typical.  Nocturne had thought this might go smoothly for once.  Just once.  Hadn’t they already worked enough, suffered enough?

“It is what’s necessary to reveal our path.  Haven’t I already promised to let you go when we are done here?  When we complete our quest?  Give her what she has asked for, so she will let us go on, and so you can go on.”

Phantom looked up at him through the bars of the cage, a faint scowl on his face.  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to give her.”

The boy could hardly be expected to pay close attention, as dream-soaked as he was, but still.  Nocturne had just said what he could give Longing.  “I can repeat my list–”

“No, no, no, I know what you said, I know what you said.”  He fell to muttering, even Nocturne’s earlier encouragement not enough to clarify his words.  “I know what you said, but you can’t just give people dignity or– or whatever the other things are.”  He sniffled.  “I’m in a– I don’t even have things to give.”  He grabbed two handfuls of blankets and waved them around.  

“I’m sure you have secrets,” said Nocturne.  They were so close, close enough for them to taste it on the air, and they would not allow Phantom’s reluctance to stop them.  “Don’t you want to help?  Is that not what you want?”  Phantom should be biddable, under the carefully crafted influence of their dream.  He should want to help Nocturne.  That was the point.  

Phantom ran his hands back and forth over a section of his tail and sucked in his lips.  “Don’t–  I don’t know.  I don't know.  I can help?”

Nocturne smiled down at him.  Finally.  Although the way his sentences were falling apart was not ideal, given the riddle-like nature of Longing’s demand.  They should take care to keep Phantom from spiraling further into sleep.  

“Yes,” said Nocturne.  “You can help.  By giving Longing what she wants.  Well.  What she has asked for in this case.”  

Longing turned her beak up in the air.  It was ridiculous.  Nocturne knew very well that she was the most powerful part of dreams, the greatest of the Beasts.  Desire could hold a dreamer better than little else.  Fear could not keep one nearly so well, and lies could backfire.  It was desire that he used to keep people in his dreams when he needed to.  Yet, this aspect of dreams chose to act like a silly little bird.  

“Well, you have refused to give me what I really want, which I can hardly help,” said Longing.  

Ridiculous.  What she really wanted.  As if she didn’t want everything.  

“I guess,” said Phantom, grudgingly, “I guess I could tell you a secret.”

Longing tittered, then leapt from her perch, slipping between the bars of her cage and coming to rest on Phantom’s shoulder.  “Whisper it to me, my dear.  Don’t worry, you can trust me.”

The boy sniffed, then lifted a hand to pet her.  “Trust is something that can’t be taken, only given, right?”

Longing whistled a few bars of music.  Phantom looked up at Nocturne out of the corner of his eye, then turned away and covered his mouth to whisper to Longing.  Whatever he said, it took only a moment.

“Very good, very good.  Only the one more.  Unless, of course, you think you can convince this brute to listen to the wisdom of his elders and let this go.  We do not deal much with time in dreams, but too much time has passed for him to chase this so ardently, and I say this as the yearning of dreams themselves.  What he wants he will not find.”

“You say it as a hypocrite,” said Nocturne, finally annoyed enough to voice their earlier thoughts.  “The third thing is something that increases as it is given.”

“I could tell you about the stars,” said Phantom.  “That’s knowledge.”

“I have seen more dreams of the stars than you have days in your life, little bird.”

“You’re a little bird,” said Phantom.  

“So I am, but so are you.”  She rearranged herself and tilted her head towards Nocturne.  “That one is a very big bird.”

Phantom had the temerity to laugh.  It was a little twittering, chirping thing, and Nocturne was disgusted to find that they agreed with Longing’s comparison of Phantom to a bird.  

A caged bird.  

“Isn’t knowledge…  Isn’t a secret a kind of knowledge.”

“And yet a secret is only one thing.”

“Maybe, maybe we could…” Phantom swayed slightly.  “Maybe we could be friends?  Friendship is good.  And we can gang up on Nocturne and make them…”  The boy trailed off as Nocturne smothered any thoughts of acting against them.  “Um.”

“We could certainly gang up on Nocturne.  They are a wonderful target.”

“Please,” said Nocturne. 

Longing looked at them through the bars of the cage, and Nocturne froze, ectoplasm cold and stiff.  When the Beasts of Dream were playful and petty, or when they were bound by old laws, it was easy to forget what they were, underneath, even when you very well knew.  

So, too, it was difficult to unlearn the habits of power.  Nocturne was used to being the one with power in dreams.  

And still…  

They sniffed, trying to recover.  “Could you even accept an offer of friendship, for him to truly give it to you?”  

“Why wouldn’t I be able to?” asked Longing.

“Would you want to?”

“Why are you arguing about this?” asked Phantom.  “Don’t you want me to, um.  To get.  Um.  The thing.”

“The token,” prompted Longing.  

“Yeah, the token.  Are you dumb?”

“If your offer of friendship was sufficient, then you would already have the token.”

“Are you so sure of that?” asked Longing.  “Perhaps I was merely having a little fun.  Are you certain you want to offer your friendship to me, child?”

Phantom nodded.  “I like having friends,” he said, comically serious.  

“Then, little friend, do you see anything you would want to take away from my clearing here?”

Phantom tilted his head.  “Is it a trick question?  Like, a riddle.”

“Don’t overthink things,” said Longing.

“Could I take your cage?”

“A fine sentiment, but no,” said Longing.  

“Could I take you?”

“I am not a thing, child.”

“Then it’s really just a question?” asked Phantom.  

“This is going nowhere,” said Nocturne.  If fear of Longing’s displeasure could keep them from pressing onward, then they wouldn’t be here in the first place.  “She is not giving you her token, so your offering is unacceptable.  Give her something else.”

“Come now, big bird,” said Longing, as Phantom started giggling again, “a new friendship is a momentous occasion.  I am allowed to take my time.”

“Not if you are stalling.”

“Um,” said Phantom.  “I’d like… a pillow?”

“Very good,” said Longing.  

One of the other birds dove from their perch and picked up a pillow in their talons before bringing it to the cage.  Phantom picked it up and tucked it under his chin.  

“Thanks,” he said.  

“Yes,” said Longing, “well.  I am sorry for this next part, then.”

“Hm?” said Phantom, fuzzily.  

“It is an unfortunate truth that, sometimes, it hurts to want something.”

Phantom frowned.  “I know that, I–”

Longing moved.  She pulled a single silver feather from her wing, and held it aloft in her beak.

All at once, the rest of her flock took flight, swarming the lantern-cage and diving between its bars.  

A ruby-red bird built like something between an eagle and a peacock perched on Phantom’s left shoulder.  On his right shoulder, a cerulean owl with sparkling, faceted talons touched down.  Then, they slashed down, tearing through Phantom’s thin pajama top and carving bloody furrows into his back.  He shrieked, and squeezed the pillow in his hands so hard it burst, spilling soft feathers across the cage.

Nocturne hissed, and struggled to keep the boy under.  Pain did not always wake a person.  Indeed, smaller pains or chronic pains were often incorporated into dreams.  But this wasn’t small, ignorable pain or old, steady pain.  This was new pain, hot and bright and very present.  This was the kind of pain that broke dreams.  Beings that naturally slept through this kind of pain did not tend to survive.  

But if Phantom woke now, Nocturne may very well have to start again, and that would be unacceptable.  No, he would stay here, caught between dreams and reality.  Nocturne would make sure of it.  

.

At first, Danny didn’t notice that the birds were building him wings from the ruin of his back.  All he had the presence of mind for was the pain and the sense of being pushed underwater until he started to drown.  

But Danny wasn’t exactly a stranger to pain, and paying attention was frequently the key to escaping it.  So he noticed how the birds flew, how they circled, how they pulled feathers from their own wings or from his new-and-now-ruined pillow with their beaks before stabbing them into his back, or whatever it was that built his nerves and flesh out and out and out into ever-more-fantastical shapes.  

He noticed when one of the birds, the bird, Longing, jumped onto his shoulder.  

“I see my brother-self has given you an extra gift.”

Danny didn’t know what she was talking about.  

“Tell me, little friend, do you want a way out?”

“Out of what?” whispered Danny.  From the way things had been going, he thought it best to be specific.  Otherwise, he might wind up with something he didn’t want at all.  Like these wings.  

“This cage, the bargain you struck with Nocturne, this dream.”

Trust.  Friendship.  Those were supposed to be reciprocated.  Cautiously, Danny nodded.

“Then I will give you a gift, also, little friend, though my gifts cannot be touched so easily.  It is the nature of Longing, for things to be out of reach.”  She hopped to his other shoulder.  “Let my gift be wisdom.  Let my gift be a gift of memory.”  

She hopped down, in front of him, and among the twisted blankets, Danny saw the red, shining curve of Falsehood’s apple.  The bird jumped up on the apple, perching on the leafy stem, then lifted her head, and began to sing.  The song was long, and high, and mournful, full of yearning and desires unfulfilled.  Despite the birds flying all around them, and the pain of his growing wings, in the spell of Longing’s song, everything felt still and calm.  As it sang, a single tear fell from her eye and onto the skin of the apple, where it disappeared, either sinking in or evaporating.  

“When you, too, cry from wanting, remember this.”

And Danny was lost again, among the wings of the birds.  But not for long.  With Longing back in her cage, the other birds left quickly, settling back among the branches of the trees.  

“Was that truly necessary?” asked Nocturne.  

“Need is immaterial.  Want is the important thing here.”

Nocturne curled their lips.  “And I suppose you want me to fail badly enough to try and wake my dreamer?”

Longing adjusted her wings minutely.  “What was wanted for his wings,” she said, nodding towards Danny.  

Thus prompted, Danny looked at his wings.  The leading edge and most of their body was black as night, with flecks like glowing silver stars, but the long, trailing feathers were a pure, softly glowing white, like the tails of comets.  He moved slowly, feeling the weight of them.  

Nocturne poked at the pillows, arranging them to better support and display Danny’s wings.  Danny guessed the second part was important for the whole lantern thing…  Lanterns were supposed to glow.  He was being helpful, like this, surely.  Glowing, guiding, fulfilling his role…

He groaned as Nocturne pulled at one of his wings, spreading it out far enough to brush the bars of the lantern-cage.  Then, when it seemed as if Nocturne was done rearranging him, he let his head rest on the pillow in front of him.  Everything seemed so heavy, now, and the not-quite-metaphor of the blankets-that-were-chains was coming back to him, and their soft iron links were weighing him down.

He was so tired, all of a sudden.  Or maybe not all of a sudden.  A lot had happened, even if he himself wasn’t doing all that much.  But something pulled him back to a state of relative awareness.  

“I will not be delayed like this,” growled Nocturne.  “No more.  Do not forget that I, too, am a master of dreams.”

Danny hummed.  Not being delayed sounded good.  Leaving problems alone could make them bigger problems, and there was definitely a problem.  One he was helping Nocturne with.  Yes.  That was what he was doing.  Yes.  

He sighed and shifted.  If he didn’t think about it too hard, the wings felt more like a large blanket than something actually connected to him.  

“I can see that,” said Longing.  She hopped sideways on her perch.  “My token is not like my brother’s.  It will neither give you sight, nor take it.  But all who have wings must desire to fly, as those who have eyes must wish to see, and those who have voices must desire to sing… even if only the once.  This, therefore, is a token of memory and imagination as much as it is of myself.”

“Okay…?” said Danny.  He didn’t particularly feel like using these wings now, he was too tired, and when he woke up, they’d be gone, wouldn’t they? 

… There was something strange about that thought.  

Flying would probably be nice, though, wouldn’t it?  Well, yes, of course it was nice.  He flew all the time.  He…  Hm.  

Hmmm.  

He yawned and turned his head over.  It was the next best thing to rolling over.  

“You will understand in time,” said Longing.  She sounded awfully sure of that.  

“He does not need to understand,” said Nocturne.  

“I’d like to, though,” said Danny.  Sometimes you didn’t need to understand things.  Sometimes just experiencing was enough.  But it wasn’t for nothing that Danny was the son of two scientists and an aspiring astronaut.  He wanted more.  “What am I supposed to–”  He yawned again. “What am I supposed to understand?”

“The path.  Which way does it lead?”  Nocturne raised the lantern high, casting the clearing in pearly light.  

Danny gazed down, through the twisting trees.  “What are we trying to find this time?”  He was tired.  He wanted to go home.  

“You will not want to find them,” said Longing.  “And here, you need not do what you do not want.”

“We seek Fear.  The third of the Beasts of Dream, whose token we need to complete your light.”

Fear.  Longing had been right.  He didn’t want to find Fear.  Maybe, as a ghost, that was strange for him to say, but he didn’t like experiencing fear, and he definitely didn’t like causing it.  

He surveyed the paths out of the clearing.  It was quite obvious which one belonged to Fear.  The other paths all seemed to call to him at various levels, but this one made his feathers stand on end and his skin crawl.  It made his mouth taste dry and chalky.  Even his scales felt itchy.  His heart seemed to beat faster in his chest as he contemplated following it.  

It didn’t look all that remarkable.  It looked like nothing more than an old deer trail, narrow and shrubby, heavily shadowed by the trees around it.  Without the extra light from his new feathers, Danny would have missed it.  

“You may take any path you want, of course,” said Longing.  “Not merely the one you are told you should take.  Desires are not so easily dictated.”  

She spread her wings, and Danny couldn’t help but look around again.  The other paths did seem much more inviting.  They reached out to him, tempting him, scents of things he did want wafting to him across the air, whispering of their destinations.  Places he could fly, places he could play, places he could learn, places he could escape…  If he could lead Nocturne down one of those paths… it would be much more pleasant for both of them…

“We are taking the path to Fear,” said Nocturne, confidently.  “Unless you do not wish to help your family.”

Yes, that, too, was fear.  Breathing was suddenly very difficult, as if there were a great weight on his chest.  

Wasn’t there something about that, about a weight on your chest, and nightmares?

“That way,” Danny said, pointing at the proper, narrow path.  

Longing sighed.  “And so it always was, that the greatest ills come from people not being honest about their heart’s desires.”

Nocturne scoffed.  “You are as much a liar as your ‘brother.’”  They didn’t move on, though.  They seemed to be waiting for something.  

Longing shifted.  “Deliver my regards to my sibling, if you catch them.”

With a nod, Nocturne stepped forward, onto the path of Fear.

“Goodbye, little friend,” called Longing from behind them, voice sweet.  “May we meet again!”

[marieabubb08]

Soulmate Series 1: The Love of A Thousand Years

Synopsis: Being married off in a young age was a familiar concept to you, being born in a very traditional family, especially due to your disability. But what you did not expect was to be stuck in a complicated interlocked fate that has already started writing itself for thousands of years with two of the world's most powerful sorcerers.

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Mute!Reader x Sukuna Ryomen

A Three part story of Two hearts connected to One soul...

Part I: Dream Lantern

Gojo Satoru was not one to believe in fate. Dreams and situations were not written in stone, that is his philosophy. So hearing about a 500-year-old prediction from a random sorcerer from the past about him and his fate only passed his mind faster than a snap. But now, why does everything around him feel like a dream encapsulated in a light sheen of his emotions now that his eyes met yours?

Part II: Zenzenzense

Sukuna Ryomen is many things, but patient was not one of them. For thousands of years, he waited. Waited for her to exist out of his blurred memories, even as time tested him hope seemed to always latch unto his cold and miniscule heart. Now that his prayers had been answered and she stood before him, memories that were so far away now seemed so close. But, could he really say that the search is over when she was now binded by the vows of marriage to the man who was considered his arch-nemesis?

Part III: Sparkle

Y/n L/n believed she was too sheltered from the world. Being stuck in the shelter of her clan for all her life without any outside connections or experience due to her protective yet strict clan and even more protective and abusive parents. Marriage was the only thing her parents wanted her to think about, but how can she do that when she dreaded her future husband, who might lock her up even more? Fortunately or Unfortunately for her, the bind of marriage was only the beginning of her journey to knowing the world and her past with it.

Coming Soon....

[small-sleepy-sheep]

jellycat pumpkins!!

[sokkalore]

season 1 of the tgcf donghua: yayyy met a handsome ghost hehe, we’re having sleepovers forever, he sucked snake venom out of my hand 😍 he got me the non corpse face plant for healing 😋 he left me a pretty ring 😙

season 2 of the tgcf donghua:

[runtedfiction]

Okay I just read through Dream Lantern. I’m literally obsessed with it and I can’t wait for another (and final) chapter!

But I want to ask, we always see Zelda’s dreams and we heard about one of links dreams with him in his boxers fighting a monster. What do his dreams entail? Is it more of the same like Zelda’s? Or what would they be?

I’m absolutely obsessed with that fic and I’m literally going to go read your other botw ones! You’re an amazing writer! <3

i'm sorry about how late this response is, @katerdaddy! i'm writing for another fandom week at the moment--tangential, but i'm writing a full-on AU based on your name/kimi no na wa, the movie that has "dream lantern" as a song! thanks so much for your question <3

i definitely picture link's dreams as the same as zelda's, but since he has knowledge of their past lives, he treats them more like memories. they're zelda's memories too, but she doesn't know that until the sword reveal. so he's seeing snippets from the various games too, but maybe he's seen these snippets before, since he found the sword like a few years ago, so he knows everything!

thanks for your compliment, you're really too kind ❤️ i'm really glad that fic was so fun to write, and you enjoyed it!!!

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 0.2 Birth by Sleep - A Fragmentary Passage - Main Road

[frownyalfred]

Hal definitely has wet dreams about batman topping him, but then he has a wet dream about him topping brucie wayne

100% and it causes him zero confusion or strife as a fantasy UNTIL the day he finds out they’re unfortunately the same person.

[sunlightdrop]

now she's here, shining in the starlight.

[celaenaeiln]

Hello, hello! It's been a while!!! Hope you're well. I had this hc about how Batfam is susceptible to manipulation, but only if it's Dick doing it. Like the blind faith he commands, there will literally get everyone ready to get him what he wants without him actually having to do anything. Like of anyone asks for a reason: "Dick said so". That's enough.

Just wanted your opinion on this

Omg hello!!! It’s been so long!! I’m so happy to hear to hear from you again 😆💕❤️!!

Hc that Bruce being completely susceptible to all of Dick’s manipulations due to the sheer faith he has in him? ABSOLUTELY!!

It’s so friggin true I’m pretty sure this is borderline canon if not canon already!!

Because here’s the thing: from the dawn of Batman comics to now, through all the changes that have occurred, there has only been one thing that remains constant and that is the fact that Bruce trusts Dick unconditionally.

There are MULTIPLE scenarios where Bruce confides solely in Dick and he actually worries heavily when his only companion leaves:

The Brave and Bold (1955) Issue #197

"My only real friends know me as Batman...Dick, Alfred, Kathy Kane...except..what do I do when Dick graduates college...and Alfred retires...and Kathy gives up being Batwoman? What do I do...when I'm finally alone?"

Bruce...that's a whole lot of pressure and expectation to put on a kid a decade younger than you..

But the point still stands because Bruce needs Dick. In the beginning of the Batman comics, there wasn't even Alfred around. It was just Dick and Bruce and they lived in an entire mansion together by themselves and had dual responsibilities of Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne as well as Batman and Robin. It was quite literally only the two of them in their own world. They went on adventures you wouldn't believe and had things happen beyond people's wildest imaginations. The Golden Age was a fever dream that encompassed only the two of them. They didn't have anyone else and they didn't want anyone else.

Dick pulled Bruce out of one of the worst times of his life when he was just Robin and Bruce pulled Dick out of depression during his. This resulted in a unbreakable bond. It's a deep kind of unshakable, irreplaceable love and profound trust that they have in each other that the other will only and always be there for them in the worst of times of their lives and the happiest of ones as well.

It's that kind of devotion and attachment to each other that established their relationship for decades. Every single timeline has consistently kept this - "You're my only one." - kind of relationship between the two of them.

Batman (2011) Issue #2

Bruce knows that of everyone he's ever met, Dick will always be the one to know him and hear him.

There's another comic panel that stuck out to me too-

Titans (2008) Issue #1

"No one knows about them except Bruce, Alfred, Tim. Barbara knows about a few. And ofcourse me."

Bruce only trusts three people - Alfred, his current robin, and Dick.

So consistently and unconditionally, it only comes down to two people at ALL times. For another example, during Death Metal, when the entire Justice League is hunting down Batman and the Batfamily, Bruce would only entrust the deadliest weapon in the world to one person and the entire league knows it.

Dark Nights: Metal Issue #2

Bruce just has pure faith in Dick for everything. He is the one person that Bruce believes will never do any wrong and he's the one person he always believes and believes in. Period.

Titans: Beast World Issue #1

Whatever Dick decides, it's the final word.

So that is why Dick is the only person Bruce is susceptible to. He never questions Dick in the comics ever. He's questioned every single person he's ever worked with about their intentions but never Dick. So Dick tells him the world is ending then the world is ending for Bruce.

If Dick tells him that red is an awful tie color, then it's an awful tie color that Bruce will never wear.

If Dick tells him to slick his hair back, take a break, be more compassionate, have faith - Bruce will do anything and everything. And this has been proven time and time again for the most menial situations to the most serious ones.

While everyone looks up at Bruce for answers and orders, Bruce will look to Dick and what he says, that's what they'll all do.

And here's the thing - the entire superhero community doesn't rely just on Bruce for commands, Dick is shown to have an equal weight. A single person has the equivalent weight of the Justice League. They will do what Dick says regardless of what Bruce says.

But the point is Bruce's utter faith in Dick gives him privileges. Anything and everything Dick decides, that's the answer, logic, and light of very reasoning to Bruce because Dick is the very source of existence for Bruce. In Forever Evil he almost let the world die intentionally because he felt that there was nothing to the world if he couldn't save Dick. At times he's fought Dick over his personal choices but every single time, without fail, he comes back literally two issues later to tell him sorry and you're right and we're going to do it your way.

Dick could let the world burn to fucking ashes and Bruce would stand by and clap and praise him. That time in the Blockbuster arc? Where Dick passively killed a man and started self-harming? Bruce roughly grabbed his face, got real close, and told him in his darkest voice that he doesn't give a flying fuck who dies or who Dick kills. As long as Dick doesn't dare hurt himself.

Dick can tell Bruce anything he ever wants, lie or truth, big or small, and Bruce will believe it with no doubts and no questions asked. That is the weight of his faith in him. Of course if someone does ask why he chose to do something a certain way? He can just say, "Because Dick said so." And as you called it, that answer alone will be enough. For everyone.

Don't be fooled by Dick's submissiveness to Bruce's commands. Bruce is holding him by the neck, but he's holding Bruce's leash just as tightly.

[yelenadelova]

feel like pure shit just want disney channel monstober back

[by-saiyuri]

"would you like to fly a kite together?"

[onyxbird]

Dream of the Endless is back in his cage for Halloween, and he is not happy.

I, on the other hand, am delighted by how well the design carved up, particularly how clearly Dream's eyes glow.

I ended up decreasing the width of the binding circle a bit to fit better on the pumpkin without shrinking Dream and the cage down any further, and the chains are a little chunkier to be carveable with the tools I have, but overall the concept translated onto the pumpkin very well.

I think it looks even better in person--it's hard to capture well on a phone camera.

[puppetmaster13u]

DP X DC X Subnautica

Where the Justice League (mostly focusing on the Superfam or Batfam or Flashfam) are large leviathan-esque creatures living on Planet 4546B. Maybe they can change forms due to Precursor experimentation, maybe not. Those with young hang out around the shallows more than the others, what with most of them being large super or specialized predators.

Enter Danny Fenton, interning on the Aurora when the ship is shot down by the Quarantine Enforcement Platform. Oh sure he probably would have tried to stop the destruction and help, but his ghost powers are a bit on the fritz and a well-meaning worker pushes him into one of the last life pods seeing as he's a child.

Now the leviathans may not know what a ship is exactly, but they can definitely understand that in most cases things technology = precursors. As far as they understand, a metal deathtrap not unlike the old labs or caches fell alongside several metallic eggs, with the emerging hatchlings misshapen and not living long.

But then there's the egg that landed in the shallows, which at first they thought was empty. But a hatchling- much smaller than the previous ones- emerges, a day later than the rest, but they're alive even if their swimming is all wobbly! It's so tiny, and obviously hatched too early with the strange split tail and how it keeps swimming to the surface for air, and they have to protect it! Now if only the little hatchling would answer their calls and not dart into hiding spots whenever they approach...

Honestly this is up to the writer lol, but I like to think that Danny's ghost form, when he finally manages to achieve it again, goes a little naga-esque. Almost like a sea snake instead of just a whispy ghost tail, which while better for swimming doesn't help his freak out over most ghost powers still not working.

Danny is just trying to survive man, maybe find other survivors, turn off this big alien gun, stop creating frost crystals when he sneezes, the usual. He doesn't need giant humanoid-esque leviathan-sized sea creatures poking around!

[jasontoddsgaythoughts]

Thanks to that one dream from last week I’ve been delusional enough to believe that Damian “no one shall take advantage of the Wayne family name or they’ll perish” Wayne and Kyle “shamelessly uses the Wayne’s Family name to get discounts at fancy high end art stores” Rayner would get along if they had to team up.

[thwackk]

something. eeugh