#new tag system:3

[styxthecaracal]

So, I've decided that I want/ probably should have a tag system for my blog (does this mean I'll update past posts with them.... probably not TwT) But, I'm just gonna list em' here while I'm thinking about it and I'll add it to my intro post later.

#Cadencerambles - My random long rants / posts

#CadenceAndTheVoid - My random thoughts

#Cadencereblogs - For anything I reblog (duh)

#Floppacrisis - Me having big questions/ having a mental breakdown (cutely, ofc :3)

#Cadenceasks - Me simply asking smol questions/ me sharing the answers to asks I make on others' profiles

#Cadenceanswers - Me answering the (few) asks I get

#FloppaMakesThings - Anything I make (art, crafts, vids, etc.)

#Floppaphotos - Photos I take (mostly of myself :3)

I'll add to this if I think of anything else but yeah. I'll try and remember these exist :3

[xxcrumbxx]

the lovely moon has Appeared, my favorite stickers are the clowns but tbh I didn't really know what else to add :p his pose reminds me of an owl and i think thats fitting for him:]

ahh i just noticed whats off HES MISSING HIS MOON DROPS HOW DID I NOT NOTICE ??? Hold on lol. .... Soooo there there now "crisis" averted lol

oh also idk how to crop image on pc so the face zoom will probly be lower quality {with is counter productive bc the whole point of this was to try an get a higher quality image becuse the pixele degrashon on images sent threw insta is ... well idk but my friend said its a thing and they know WAYmore about this kinda stuff

[until-the-brahmin-come-home]

ultimately inconsequential but big pet peeve of mine when it comes to bethesda fallouts: naming. so many npcs don't have names, or don't have first & last names. every human companion in fnv has a first and last name. a lot of minor characters have first and last names! and a lot of characters have fun names that tell you something about them - ranger ghost, arcade gannon, calamity, fantastic, most of the legion guys tbh. meanwhile you can sleep with cait and danse without ever learning their last/first names.

[plasticbabyart]

Haven't been posting because work (Also catching up on sleep haha) but jammers, someone using tags correctly and sharing a somewhat negative or critical opinion on something you like isn't a bad thing; just scroll? Block? Ignore? Like cmon jammers, ain't no need

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[ray935sworld]

I'm gonna hold your hand while I say this - if you think an existing, loved and respected system for somthing should be changed because it could be confusing for new fans I do not think you are aware that you hold the power to literally research every information you get. You can spend literally 1 minute researching the rider and checking their championships on Wikipedia. It's not that hard. It's not much. It's not too much to ask.

When you get into a new sport or field, you will get confused at first. You will read information that was written for an audience already familiar with the subject. You cannot expect people, blogs, journalists, news papers, social media admins, to explain the absolute basics over and over and over again. It would be annoy for them and fans familiar with the subject. (and yes for you too after understanding the system)

Research comes with being interested in new stuff. It's normal. It's part of the learning progress. So do your fucking research. Ask fan who have been into it for longer. Respect the established way and do not demand a change because it's "confusing" just because you don't know how to use the internet and expect that everything is written so you can understand with little to no context.

That's not how this works.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

let’s say a version of Killer has D.I.D. in your personal opinion would they go for Final Fusion or Functional Multiplicity

I don’t personally think Killer does have a version of DID. Or if he does, I think it presents more along the lines of UDD (Unspecified Dissociative Disorder) or OSDD-1A.

There’s amnesia, particularly with Stage 4, but none of them are significantly different from the other—especially the Stages. They all identify as Killer, really, just Killer in different modes—or Stages, what have you.

Considering Sans’ canonical reprogramming of his code and his undeniable conditioning by the Player, which is definitely wasn’t aware of for quite some time canonically and genuinely believed it was a choice he was making freely—even when it deeply confused and distressed him, hearing these thoughts in his head as if they aren’t his own—they’d likely be similar to a “programmed” or created system in this case.

If we go off the lens of Killer being a system and approach what we have in his canon material, I think Stage 1 is pushing for Final Fusion. Or something like it—all he wants is the life he had before he became..this, before he did all this. Before the Deal. Before Nightmare.

He wants his home, his life. He wants his brother back. He wants to be Sans again.

In his eyes, he can’t do that unless his SOUL—the Stages—are and is “fixed.” He very clearly is terrified of himself in his higher Stages—he deems himself in Stage 2 as completely untrustworthy, himself in Stage 3 a “crazy” lunatic worthy of being slain and murdered and killed.

What he becomes in Stage 4 is something he can’t even bring himself to talk about or tell anyone—not even Color. Stage 4 isn’t worthy of being acknowledged, shouldn’t even exist, in his eyes.

It comes from a place of feeling completely helpless, out of control, deep self hatred, overwhelming guilt and fear of himself and his own mind and body, and just wanting to die. Existence is almost painful for him.

I’d say for the longest, until Color joined his reasons, his cats and the slim hope of going back to “normal” is what carried him and kept him going on under Nightmare—even if he has to convince himself it’s his own choice to continue on, instead of just someone else’s Determination and will not allowing him to die.

The other Stages may very likely have very different opinions or just straight up visceral reactions to the idea of Final Fusion (Stage 3 in particular.)

I believe that Color and the souls may actually be able to help them come to a decision or an agreement on this, actually. I do truly believe that Color would never want to be rid of the souls—and their particular case, they all truly believe they’d be worse off for it.

Ignoring how Color may not physically literally survive if the souls were to ever leave or separate from him, i think he wouldn’t mentally or emotional survive it either. He’s relied on them for years, even if he wasn’t always aware of that fact.

They keep him calm, they keep kind, they help keep him stable and remind him of who he said he wanted to be, they help him maintain relationships when his own fears and emotional instability would’ve otherwise torn those all apart.

They remind him who he is, they’re there for him—without them, he’d be alone. Again. He doesn’t know who he is without them. They ensure he’s never alone, or forgotten—they never abandon him.

But more than, he loves them. And they love him. Even if some of them didn’t always.

Killer hasn’t reached what Color and the souls have, how could they? All they know is how to fear and blame and death and kill. That’s what most of them were made to do.

So do think Stage 1 at least would push for Final Fusion, or whatever equivalent the UTMV would have—at least for a while. The topic of it is likely to cause a lot of disagreement between the Stages themselves—either because of pure survival instincts and preceiving the idea as some sort of threat, or simply because they’re programmed to resist what they might perceive as “erasure”—or failure to carry out what they were made to do.

[stapess]

Finally made a tumblr account to post this and probably never return oopsies. Not sure what possessed me to make this other than the non-tadpole-related parasites in my head.

[bonefall]

Thank you for removing the romance between Gray Wing and Turtle Tail, I personally never really liked that ship. Not sure why, but I like them better as friends.

I ALSO like them better as friends, but to be totally fair, I also just don't like Gray Wing lmaoooooo

He's awful in-canon. He's everything terrible about how the writers portray "nice guys" and ALL of his romances were trash. All FOUR of them.

He's totally oblivious to how Bright Stream is being pressured into leaving the mountain, because he's thirsting about how lucky his brother is to have such a beautiful woman as a mate. Then he gets her killed by tripping like a teenager in a horror movie during Eagle Quicktime Event 44 and mopes about it, until they decide her death was Nobody's Fault :)

Storm is really not that into him, she's pretty obviously just friendly and polite, but he spends all his time with her anyway neglecting all of his other friendships. Until Storm has a Hotel Transylvania ass ZING moment looking into Clear Sky's Baby Blue Eyes and falls in true love. Gray Wing doesn't notice this, of course, and gets dumped. Then when she runs off while pregnant later he just lets her, so that he can have a casual chit-chat with his brother over some guy's dead corpse.

He was treating Turtle Tail like ABSOLUTE shit the entire time he was courting Storm, screaming at her about having the wrong friends, not giving her the time of day, and when Storm dumps him he goes crawling back to her only to find out she's moving in with Bumble.

And then later he sneers about a fat woman trying to escape domestic abuse, this is a series for kids where he's framed as the good guy

and he gets to have a Wowowowow Sooo Cooool moment SAVING TURTLE TAIL FROM TOM THE WIFEBEATER, because it's as if the ONLY reason poor fucking Turtle Tail exists as a character is to serve HIS arc. Before she gets turned into a pancake by a car so he can be sad about it

And then, after THREE women have already died in various awful ways so that Gray Wing can feel bad, Slate fades into existence like a powerpoint slide halfway through the series. Now he can finally have his own children, who don't drop him the minute they find out he's not their biodad

Where was Slate before? We don't know! We killed off so many women that we had to beam in new ones. Just replace them. They're basically all interchangeable and Gray Wing was such a good boy, he "deserves" a reward.

So, for my AU... GOD no. Not happening. None of these relationships were worth salvaging, imo. Gray Wing dies in the first book like GOD INTENDED.

[hauntingofhouses]

I was wondering, what do u think Taigen reaction to finding out about Mizu being a woman will be? Although I don’t think he will have a bad reaction I wanted to know what u thought about it?

OOH I like this question because the thoughts on this have been swirling around in my brain for a while and I don't think I ever properly talked about this, outside of maybe this post (which is barely coherent imo). There, I compared Mizu/Taigen to Mizu/Mikio, as well as to the main romantic couple in the movie Yentl. Then from both those comparisons, I tried to speculate on Taigen's reaction to Mizu's gender reveal, based on what would make the most narrative sense.

However, I didn't really analyse Taigen himself in that post, and neither did I ever come up with a concrete conclusion to what his reaction may be. So this ask gives me a good chance to speculate even further and hopefully come up with a proper and more in-depth answer.

Similar to you, anon, I don't think Taigen will have a bad reaction per se, though I guess it depends on what you'd define by bad.

Because this is Taigen we're talking about, I don't think he'd exactly be chill about it. He's very much a drama queen, especially around Mizu, as he's never afraid of stepping on her toes, and thus will vocalise his feelings to her whenever he's feeling them. That, combined with his short temper and his brashness, means that there's almost certainly going to be conflict when he finds out the truth. He will be shocked, and because he's immature, he'll be angry and upset because of this shock. Simply because he doesn't know, and hasn't yet learned, how to deal with his emotions in any other way besides getting angry.

So I think that will definitely be his first instinct. To get upset.

I don't think he'd immediately know why he's upset. Maybe only after a few minutes of angry questioning (think something along the lines of "Why are you telling me this now?!" and "You've been hiding this all this time?!"), he'd finally come up with some tangible cause for his anger.

What would the cause for his anger be then? Well, it could be several things.

Possible Reason #1

He feels "betrayed" because Mizu didn't trust him enough with the truth even after the two have grown close, and after Taigen has put his life on the line for her numerous times.

Possible Reason #2

He feels "cheated" because Mizu is not the man he'd believed she was, thus making it feel like their entire friendship was a sham. This is because the basis for their relationship, in the way he'd related to her, bullied her, envied her, admired her, allied himself with her, and eventually grown attracted to her, had been entirely based off the premise and belief that Mizu is his fellow man, his peer, comrade, and fellow samurai. Thus, discovering that Mizu is not a man would, initially, feel like all of that has been ripped away from him. And this is actually related to the third possible reason.

Possible Reason #3

This is a big one, and the reason everyone, including myself, is putting their bets on: misogyny.

Essentially, Taigen would find out that this whole time, the person he'd been envious of and struggling to beat in every single fight, is not a man, but a woman. And as far as he knows, even if women in feudal Japan could once be warriors (see: the Onna-musha), perceptions have since changed by the time of the Edo period. Furthermore, even if women could fight, men were still expected to be stronger, because men are supposed to protect women.

However, I believe that Taigen's particular flavour of misogyny is a little different, in that he does not view women as "inferior." Because remember, his fiancee was Akemi. This was a woman who took no shits! She was snarky and playful and intelligent, and moreover she was a princess, superior to him in every way, and he knew and respected all of that, and respected her as an individual who could make her own choices. When she'd told him the news of their engagement, Taigen asked her, "He's [your father] sure? You're sure?" And then, when she tried to seduce him in Ep 2, he asked her, "Akemi, are you sure?"

His respect for her is the only reason why Akemi had been so desperate to marry him in the first place. She did not love him, but knew he would be good to her. Because she could not guarantee that any other man would treat her nicely as he would.

Thus, with that being said, I don't think Taigen is some "alpha male dudebro" who thinks women belong in the kitchen etc. Instead, I think Taigen simply believes women are just... different from men. So it's not that women can't or shouldn't fight, it's that they just don't. It's not that women can't or shouldn't be friends with men on equal footing, it's just that they aren't. You get what I'm saying?

It's like, imagine your whole life, you're told, and fully led to believe, that a lamp can't light up. They're just meant to be in your house as decoration. And then suddenly, you find out that your lamp lights up! And you're like, "OMG a lamp is lighting up! How is it doing that?! I thought light only comes from candles and the sun! This can't be right, I thought lamps never light up! Isn't that a fundamental part of their design?"

Now, put aside that this is a pretty bad analogy because it's 1am as I'm writing this and I can't think of a better one atm, but I hope the point comes across, in that this is clear-cut misogyny (I'm comparing women to a piece of furniture here on purpose), but the lucky thing about this particular flavour of misogyny is that it's rooted in ignorance, and is not inherently malicious. It can be, but it isn't necessarily.

Ignorance can be undone through learning and educating oneself. And luckily for us, my friends, educating oneself out of ignorance is the entire point of Taigen's character! He represents the uneducated masses who blindly follow the flow of the fucked up system. This is in contrast to Mizu who has never had a place within the system to begin with, Akemi who has spent her whole life struggling to go against the grain of the system, and Ringo who has always tried to follow the system, but due to his disability, is denied full access to it.

Thus, we've already seen him take the first steps to unlearn his xenophobic and racial prejudice, and we've also seen him start shedding his massive ego and desire for glory, which are both used to mask his own insecurities. If Netflix gives us all 4 planned seasons, then we have 3 more seasons for Taigen to fully grow out these backwards mindsets and finally reach his full potential to become—not a good man—but a great one.

THEREFORE, whatever the reason for his upset at discovering Mizu's gender, I firmly believe that Taigen will get over himself in the end, regardless of whether his anger stemmed from his misogyny, hurt, confusion, or whatever else.

Because Taigen's short temper and emotional immaturity is born from him spending his whole life on the move. Unlike Mizu, who is always alone with her thoughts and meditates constantly to try to cleanse herself of her restless emotions, Taigen is used to surrounding himself with people (see:him in the Shindo Dojo) and ignoring his emotions completely (see:him trying to forget Kohama). Which is why, when he does feel anything, it's overwhelming, and he doesn't know what else to do with it except let it out, usually in an angry outburst. Only when given the proper chance to reflect in Kohama in Ep7, does Taigen finally go through some substantial growth and start feeling remorse over how he'd treated Mizu.

Hence, I suspect something similar will happen when he discovers Mizu's gender, in which he will get upset and shocked and confused first, but then he'll reflect and regret and try to make up for his past behaviour.

And this is what I meant earlier when I said that I don't think he'll 't have a "bad reaction."

Essentially, it is my belief that his reaction will not follow in the footsteps of Mikio's, but instead, directly oppose and subvert that. This is related to the points I referenced in the post I linked above, but also, more importantly, because Taigen and Mikio are narrative foils.

Thus, where Mikio had betrayed Mizu and left her for dead, I believe Taigen will, at the end of the day, remain loyal and continue to fight by her side until the very end.

Because the thing about Taigen, as a person, outside of all the attitudes and prejudices that have been ingrained into him, is his relentless devotion. He gives himself into everything he does, puts in his all, and does not do things halfway. That's what makes him such a good soldier. He does not lead, but follows. He is inherently self-sacrificing and driven by a desire to protect, and we see this in how protective he is of Mizu to the point of enduring torture for her and telling her to use him as a human shield; how his first instinct upon hearing Akemi had been dragged off to get married against her will, is to get up and try to go to her; and how, when hearing the shogunate is in danger, he immediately goes straight to Edo palace to try to warn the shogun, even if it might get him killed in the process.

I could go on about why I think this is what makes him so good for Mizu (because Mizu's arc, especially in Season 1, is literally about accepting help and opening herself up to others) but this post is already atrociously long, so I'll just leave it at that.

So, anon, I hope I answered your question! I'm sorry I can never give short answers though, but I think at this point, it's to be expected from me lol. Thank you for the ask btw! And on that note, my inbox is always open for more 👀

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Bad Dreams)

Woah!! Bet you guys weren't expecting this one!!! (<- no but fr Idk if this one was even a drabble I mentioned wanting to do to anyone besides Ancha lmao-)

Regardless, here's a drabble that takes place a few months after Dream's exile!

(Hello @ancha-aus @papiliovolens and @mutzelputz !!!)

It was quiet.

So dreadfully quiet.

The stone walls felt suffocating, and the darkness was too overwhelming. Even the light of his own magic wasn't enough to ward off the sickly feeling crawling up his spine and over his shoulders.

Roaving like clammy hands, clinging to his bones and threatening to drag him away.

He couldn't take this anymore.

It took effort, one hand over the other, eyes on the rest of the room he'd been placed in for now. One bed instead of two. His legs felt like jelly as he tugged them over the edge.

His feet landed in his sandals not a moment later, and he shoved away from the soft mattress which felt nothing like his own.

Hid eyelights lingered on the bottom of the frame. The shadow there, not reached by the little orb of emotion which hovered beside him, providing light to the barren room.

Perhaps, he feared something would crawl out of those shadows. Tendrils. Pointed and waving. Grasping. Creeping along the floor.

He took a shaking breath.

Another.

He had to at least be able to breathe.

Dream's legs carried him unceremoniously to one of the chairs located in the room where he'd abandoned his cloak.

It was too big on him, the gold and yellow meant for the form the prophecy would have provided him with. He'd taken it with him anyways.

He tugged it over his shoulders, abd the heavy weight smothered him. In a way, it warded off that chill. Just enough to give him the courage to hurry to the door and slip outside.

The hall felt colder than the room.

And almost quieter.

It was nothing like home. With servants and guards bustling about at all hours. With the gentle hum of his mother's magic pulsing through the walls. With his brother's-

No.

He couldn't think about that now.

He padded along through the empty halls. He still shook, but the longer he was in motion the more momentum he gained.

Dream moved swiftly through these unfamiliar and unfriendly halls, until he arrived at a familiar door.

A servant entrance, which he had only noticed because he'd heard horses somewhere beyond as it briefly opened during his first tour. He hated to use it, but he knew guards would be at the main exits.

So, carefully, he entered the space which held it.

A kitchen, of sorts. Piled high with the dishes yet to be cleaned, and with food stores which would last an army a century, tucked away into every shelf.

A part of him wondered what they even did with so much hidden away, but to be honest, he didn't care enough.

He pushed through the door with little effort, and felt a sense of relief rush over him as his sandals landed in damp, earthy grass.

A glance down revealed it had been stamped over hundreds of times by weary servants, so it was flat and lame, but he didn't let that bother him much. He was outside again.

Dream had been feeling suffocated in that stupid building. Out here it felt like that horrid shadow, haunting him, knew not to tread too closely in his wake.

The wind tugged at his overly-large cloak as he stood there a moment. The door swung shut behind him.

The sky, the stars, he felt like he was saying hello to an old friend met in a distant place.

Only a moment later he shook his skull free of his momentary relief. He had to keep moving. Had to do this now.

His eyelights skimmed the dark, and he extinguished his orb. The moon was more than bright enough to illuminate the place he was searching for.

The stables.

As he traversed the open lawn, he noticed. It too was different from the one he knew so well. It was smaller, and had closed outer walls. The doors were huge, and seemed to swing out like any other door. It would not slide like his own used to.

As he reached the entrance, he gently tugged it open. It gave way easily, and he slipped in, expecting to be plunged into the darkness of yet another enclosed building.

Yet... inside it seemed only a bit more shadowed.

The stalls were largely swathed in darkness, but a thin strip of light illuminated the alley between each part of the stalls. There was a skylight above, open air, that was letting the moonlight filter down.

The way it fell, it might's been just past midnight.

Dream moved forward, carefully and quietly. He didn't want to startle the horses. Most of them seemed to be resting just like the rest of the castle. Last thing he needed was to startle one of them.

While he needed to find one awake to keep going, maybe it was better that he not find one. Maybe...

Nope.

Fate must adore him.

There, a few stalls ahead, a movement. Through the space, a horse's head suspended from its thick neck extended majestically into the moonlight nearing its stall.

It seemed to shift, to get a look at him, before settling.

Dream was gentle in his approach, but fast. His hands were shaking now as he approached the horse.

A beautiful, clean white. Little freckles of blond dotting its muzzle and forehead. It was gorgeous.

It stayed still as Dream came close and reached out his hands. They trembled, and he wished he'd worn his gloved. He hated to see his bare bones in the moonlight.

The horse softly nuzzle its nose into his hand.

And sneezed.

Dream squeaked in surprise, recoiling away a bit. He tried to stay calm, if only to keep the horse from panicking, but it just snorted as it stared at him.

Of course he'd get horse-snot on his bare hands, and-

"Excuse you, miss." Came a playful, full voice.

Dream, this time, was less calm.

Why was there a voice? Who was down here?

His emotions must've broadcasted. As he stepped backwards into the moonbeam, the mare whinnied and realed back nervously, and there was a hum of surprise from within the stall.

Frozen in place, he watched as a faint movement, aside from the large shadow of the horse, rose from inside the stall.

Glowing.

Eyes turned to him. Eyelights, like his, a wide and curious sky blue.

And then they drew closer, and where the mare once extended her neck to him, now stood a monster he starkly recognized.

"Oh, Prince Dream?" It was Blue, the squire of the knight who'd been assigned to watch over Dream, "What a surprise! I wasn't expecting to find anyone else up so late, is there anything I can do to assist you?"

Blue was smiling. Dream could taste it. His confusion, which was quickly overtaken by a general joy.

The skeleton wasn't dressed down at all, despite presumably having been knelt in a horse's pen for some reason. His squires armor, largely padded and cloth, hung well on his frame, and part of Dream wished he could see more that just the Knight's arms and shoulders peeking over the stall door along with his skull.

"I- I wasn't expecting anyone to be up tonight either." He replied, dumbly, "I was- was just taking a stroll. Couldn't sleep."

It was a weak excuse. An excuse literally anyone could see through-

"Ah, I see!" Blue's voice cut off his thoughts before they could run away, "You know, you should really try the tea that my master drinks before bed. It always knocks him out, cold turkey!"

Dream was... bewildered.

Blue turned away from him for a moment, disappearing into the shadows of the stall, but his voice did not hesitate.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind sparing a bit for you, Prince Dream! After all, it's our job as knights and knights-to-be to care for our benefactors!"

Dream could hear a bit of movement behind his words, and a few moments later Blue returned to the front of the stall. He used one arm to support himself as he hopped over the small gate, the mare trailing in his wake to watch once again.

He seemed entirely unphased, carrying tools in his other hand, moving to a hanging leather bag hung on a nail in one of the support beams and dumping the items inside.

"If you like, I could escort you back inside and make you a cup?"

Blue was still speaking, with little hesitation.

Dream felt like the squires voice was rattling around in his skull. An overwhelming amount of sound for the quiet he'd just arrived from, and quite different from the sounds he'd been searching for.

Like the chirping of bugs, the sounds of rustling leaves, the pounding of a horse's hooves heavy on the ground as he made his daring escape from this place he did not know.

"Ah, Prince! It seems Marigold managed to get you a bit dirty, I apologize on her behalf!" Blue was a lot closer. "Please, allow me!"

A lot closer.

Dream flinched as he felt soft, worn gloves cup his palms from underneath.

His focus had been far off, elsewhere, but now he watched as the skeleton a bit shorter than him gently used a clean rag he must've grabbed to towel away the remnants of the horse's gunk left on his hands.

Blue was entirely focused on his task, and Dream felt entranced by the action. It felt like his non-existant gut was attempting to mimic a writhing snake.

When Blue finally seemed content, he hummed and grinned to himself.

Even through is thick gloves, Dream had been close enough. To taste it. There was not a single hint of malice lingering in this squires soul. He was so sweet. Unbearably so. He'd barely met any souls with such a pure slate of emotions laid bare.

"P-prince Dream?! Are you alright? I'm- I'm so sorry, did I grab your hands too hard?" Blue's voice once again dragged him back to reality.

A tinge of fear in the air, and the cold rapidly claiming his hands once again.

He looked away from his hands, now abandoned by the squire who'd been keeping them warm. He had backed up by a few paces, and had his head bowed, but Dream could still see his skull was tilted. An eyelight observing him.

Guilt.

Why...

Dream all at once pulled his hands up to his cheekbones. His freezing fingertips gently rimmed the bottom edge of his sockets, and all at once he understood.

He'd started crying. Like a weakling.

He knew this feeling all too well. The tears which used to come to him when Nightmare would be sent back to his own bed by their mother. When she found Night comforting him after a night terror. His aura was always so calming.

He hadn't had Night at all, lately. Maybe that was why he hadn't shed tears yet. Until tonight, of course.

"No- no. It's nothing you did." Dream hurried to say, though he hated his voice for warbling.

He tucked his hands tightly into his cloak, and took a single shaking breath.

And then stepped to the side, and sunk down against the stall gate of the mare named Marigold.

She didn't startle as the wood shifted under Dream's weight, and settled again against the tick hay coating the bottom of the stall.

In this moment, Dream didn't care how bad it smelled, or how dirty he was getting his perfect coronation cloak, or anything. He didn't care that his perfect white bones were digging into old, splintered wood, or that his cheekbones pressed to damp planks.

He didn't care about the squire who saw.

Dream knew he couldn't risk going back to the castle, sockets full of tears. Not like this. So he'd have to fry it out here and risk the squires rumor mill in the morning.

He sniffled as he let the cold sink into the thin silk cloth which covered his legs, closing his sockets miserably in the darkness.

He heard boot-steps, and sunk a bit lower into himself as they drew softly nearer.

Though, they stopped a short distance away, and the weight of the gate shifted again, as sonething denser leaned against it.

Marigold snorted in what Dream imagined was annoyance, and he heard her hooves disappear somewhere deeper into shadow.

.

It was silent as Dream let his tears flow. Shoulder dug into his cheek, folded in on himself like a sort of ragdoll. Sniffles were the only thing which broke that awkward quiet.

But this silence too, was deeply uncomfortable. It was as though his moments of peace were little more than ploys to administer more distress into his mind.

The moment he could no longer stand his self-imposed quiet, he shifted.

And squinted in the darkness.

And found that, just before him, was the side of that squire.

There, back pressed to the stall door, sat Blue. He wasn't looking at Dream. The prince noticed that in one hand he held hid signature weapon, that comically large Warhammer. His eyes seemed focused, skimming the stalls. Watching over Dream's form to the doors far from where he'd turned his back.

Was... was the squire watching over him?

Normally when he threw a tantrum like this, his sorrow would seep into the air around him. He was able to drive off all the servants and soldiers. Very few would linger. Struck by an intense misery.

"Squire Blue?" Dream's voice felt hoarse and wet, remnants of the emotion that had built up inside him.

The young man's eyelights darted to the side, to look at Dream as he was called.

This time he remained silent, his expression still focused.

Dream knew this was stupid, he- "Why did you stick around?" He asked. "It's your master's duty to babysit me, not yours."

It was true. Only the Knight had orders to watch over him. And Dream knew he didn't much like the job.

For that man, there was no honor in trailing a young monster like Dream. Even if he was the son of Nim, Dream was no longer a crown prince. He was exiled. An outcast.

The question seemed to linger in the air a moment, before Blue's browser furrowed.

"Well, I believe you are sad, and it must be a type of sadness which is very hard to fight away, as you are very strong." He spoke, though the chipper tone was something softer now. Encouraging? "So as you fought your battle, I wished to stay by your side and dissuade any enemies from the outside. I could not abandon you."

He said it as though Dream was really fighting something. Inside himself.

That wasn't it at all. He'd been running away from that thing biting at him. Clawing at his heels and clogging his throat. That made him want to run away and never come back.

"I-" Was he really going to do this? "I had a bad dream, Squire Blue."

He felt like a child, confessing to his nanny that he had broken a vase in the hall.

"My brother used to comfort me, from these terrors. But- but I cannot see him anymore. He-" He choked up again, "People are saying he was jealous of me, when he took the crown, but he wasn't. He was afraid. And he cast me out and exiled me to this place!"

If he weren't so focused on trying to contain his voice, he would've been impressed at how unmoving Blue's face remained, amongst the swarm of emotions breaking through Dream's thinly-kept barrier.

"He was afraid, and I am alone, and this I'd not how it should be! Someone, something, scared him into acting out and sending me away and- and here I am. Crying in a stable like a child due to a bad dream, hundreds of miles away from my twin!"

He threatened to curl in on himself again, but he stopped himself when he saw the way that Blue looked at him. Knowingly.

"You know, it is not nearly the same, but I too am separated from my brother." Blue spoke up. Though, he was smiling?

Dream hummed in confusion, tired from his confession.

"He's younger than me, stayed in our home village as part of the city guard. He's the coolest..." He sounded almost wistful, "When I chose to start my apprenticeship I was told I would have to move away, and live here." He lamented.

Dream hated to taste the bittersweet tang of melancholy wafting softly away from Blue.

"Don't... don't you miss him?" Dream muttered, "Don't you want to run away and be with him again?" That was what Dream would do.

Blue laughed gently, a charming little 'Mweh!' That warmed Dream's soul.

"Of course!" He admitted, "But, my brother was my biggest supporter, and if I don't become a knight, then my time away will have been for nothing."

A brother giving unwavering support. Like Nighty.

"It sounds like you treasure your brother, Prince Dream," Blue said, then, "Might I ask about what you think of him?"

Oh.

That's right.

Since he left, he'd only been piling negative atop negative about his brother, making an impossibly long list in his head.

"My brother..." Dream breathed, almost a whisper. "He was-" He stopped, "is the most devoted, kindest, gentlest soul I've ever known."

He couldn't help but think of when they were children. When they had first gotten their masks, and Nightmare had recieved the smooth, rounded owl face. He'd looked so adorable and kind, lavender eyelights wide with joy.

Dream remembered seeing the grin on his twin's face when he'd let Dream press the cold wood to his own face. No doubt it had been cuter on Nightmare.

"He's so smart... he loves reading, and his studies, and always knew how to help me when I'd make trouble in the castle."

The days when Dream was seven or eight, tripping around the halls at night, wet paint on his new shirt because he'd tripped and nudged a new mural his mother had commissioned. It had been wet.

Nightmare had found him and dragged him back to their room, where he'd pulled the shirt off of Dream and immediately set about cleaning it.

He said he'd watched their babysitter do it a hundred times and he'd learned. Dream had claimed the work was beneath them, but Nighty had shot back, asking if he'd rather be caught with stained clothes by the adults. That was the last thing he'd wanted, so he'd sat and watched Night scrub away at the stain in the tub with a few bottles of who knows what and water until it was practically brand-new. By morning it was dry, as though nothing had ever happened.

"And- and he always knew when I was sad. He'd come sit with me, and we'd hug and- and nothing came between us."

Until that day, of course.

That day when Dream was practicing his speech and Nightmare had rushed into the lounge to stand before him. Nightmare's skull had been sweaty, his eyelights pinpricks. He had a scroll clutched to his chest, and a hunch to his shoulders. He'd been afraid. Dream had tasted it like a sour lemon on his tongue, and had gone on high alert.

Only for Nightmare to start babbling to him. Stammering about the prophecy and a curse and some sort of discovery. A warning.

All that Dream had caught after asking him to slow down, was that Nightmare was begging him not to go through with his coronation ceremony. That he'd found a dire omen in the library about some sort of bloodshed. Some horrible price to pay.

Dream had tried to reassure him. That it was just a mean prank, that he and everyone else would be fine. Perfectly safe.

Nightmare had left the room dejected, practically in tears, and had rushed off. If Dream had known better, he would've gone and hammered it into his twin's skull that the prophecy was safe. That he didn't have to taint his own body to protect Dream from some make-believe threat.

Dream sighed a bit, and raised one hand to his face. He rubbed his palm along his sockets, swiping away magical residue from his tears.

He wasn't any less sad, but it felt less explosive.

"Your twin sounds very nice, Prince Dream. I do understand why you would like to see him again." Blue spoke softly.

His smile was boisterous again, and Dream couldn't help himself from allowing a gentle smile to worm onto his own expression.

"I cannot let you leave, that would not allow me to protect you, but if you wish to talk again, I am often an open ear!" He suggested, "You seem less sad after talking."

Hmm.

This might have been the first time in the history of his life, he realized, that he had someone his age really speak with him.

Blue was different from the noble children and the new guards and servants back home. It was something kind. Perhaps it was that he didn't truly understand just who Dream was. Who he was meant to be.

Maybe- maybe he'd like to keep it that way a bit longer.

"Trying to flee on horseback was a silly idea anyhow." He mused, "Would you be bothered if I still took your offer? For tea, that is?"

The joy that flooded through Blue was almost contagious, and he quickly popped up from where he'd been seated, letting his hammer shimmer away into the air beside him.

Then he turned to dream, and extended a gloved hand to him.

Dream took it after a moment, and he was swiftly tugged to his feet too, shaky as a newborn foal. Cold and damp and smelly.

But Blue didn't seem to notice, nor was he bothered. Not by the dirt that coated Dream's cloak or the smear of mud which had gotten onto his skull.

Blue escorted him back out to the grounds, and Dream saw my the moon that he'd hardly spent an hour in that stable. It was still plenty dark.

As the squire began to move towards the main path, Dream tugged his armor and guided him instead to the little servant door, and Drean was rewarded for his sneaky tactics with another 'Mweh!' of excitement.

Blue held the door, and Dream hurried into the kitchen. Then from there, Blue led them through servant corridors that Dream had never known existed. Blue was careful to check over his shoulder every few steps. Maybe he was worried about losing Dream in the twists and turns?

And then, as though hitting a brick wall, they found themselves in the private barracks of the knights of this realm. For a moment, Dream worried Blue might have to enter his master's room to snatched the tea, but...

There was a little alcove outside of one of the doors, carved into the wall.

'Personal effects' Blue had explained quietly, kept in the hall so servants might have easy access to each Knight's favorite drink or treat.

Dream watched curiously as the knight moved towards the space, and carefully extracted a few leaves from a little jar left outside.

"Will that be enough for two?" Dream muttered, perplexed. It seemed hardly enough for a mouse!

Blue glanced back to Dream in confusion, and the Prince realized he'd jumped the gun. Blue hadn't planned to have any tea, only brew it for Dream.

That... felt odd.

"Mm. Have you ever tried his tea, squire Blue?" He asked quietly instead.

Blue shook his head a bit, "No, I've never had the chance." He didn't seem bothered.

Dream only nodded, and the two hurried away. Out of the knight's wing, back through the servant halls, and into the kitchen where Dream had snuck out through the little door.

There, Blue closed the door to the hall, and after a moment, seemed content to begin moving all sorts of pots and pans to find a kettle.

Dream hadn't ever lingered in a kitchen very long. His babysitter only brought them inside once or twice, always upon Nightmare's request. The kitchen here was much smaller than his own, and was infinitely more cluttered. The organization, or lack there-of, made his hands itch.

It only took a few moments before he lifted himself up to sit atop one if the counters, away from where Blue seemed to be preparing the tea.

He moved with practice around this spot, it'd taken hardly any time at all for him to dig out the worn kettle, and it'd been tucked behind little bottles and containers of who knows what.

He seemed to work the stove just fine as well, the little flames dancing along with the little light their magic provoded to them.

Only when the kettle was set did Blue seem to glance around and spot Dream once again.

He moved a bit closer, leaning against the counter a bit.

"Prince Dream, may I ask a question?" He voiced.

Dream nodded curiously.

"Do you ever do sparring?" Blue asked, then.

That was... not what Dream had expected to be asked of him. He'd had people ask him many things, but never of that.

"I... used to." He said softly.

It was ever so slight, a raise in Blue's shoulders, some sort of little happiness sparking through him.

"I've seen you, stopping by when the knights train! What weapons do you use?" Blue asked then.

Dream suddenly had to find himself smothering the flush which threatened to flood his cheekbones. Yes, he did miss sparring, but often when he was frustrated he would pass by. To get a glimpse at the Knights in their armor, so swift and powerful.

"A bow." He said, maybe a bit too hastily. "I mean... I was formally trained in swordplay, staffs, and spears, but Archery has always come easiest to me."

He was so absorbed in his thought that he almost missed the way Blue's eyelights grew bigger. Almost.

Dream allowed a smirk to cross his face, and he held his hands out before him.

His little, pearly white, hands trembled. The joints glowed a soft golden color, and it all drew out, to his fingertips. After a moment, the glow condensed, and swirled, and tightly wove into a longbow.

The bow itself was a pale white, but much like his castle, it appeared to be made of old, twisting vines and branches.

"Where is the string?" Blue's curious tone asked, and Dream was only a bit startled to find the squire so close to him now, examining the weapon.

"It's only tangible in use with my magic." Dream explained softly.

Running a hand along the space, his finger caught, and a ripple of yellow glow moved down a thick, invisible string.

Impulsively, Dream imagined, Blue stuck his gloved hand right into the space beneath where Dream had just touched. There was nothing for him to grasp.

"Wowie... that's an impressive weapon, Prince Dream! You are very skilled, that must've taken ages to craft!" Blue said, pulling his hand back as though nothing had happened.

Dream stared at it a moment, but caught himself before claiming it was an easy feat.

He'd made the bow itself no problem, but the string... they could never withhold the power of his magic. They would snap and send him reeling.

Once, a broken string had swung back and cracked against his chin. He'd bled, and all of the guard had panicked about his wellbeing. He'd been young still, and had been so startled he thought they were yelling at him. Not about him.

After that, mother had insisted he learn to channel his magic precisely. Learn to use it with an easy perfection.

"Yes, it took me some time to perfect." Dream agreed solemnly.

It seemed Blue was going to say something else, but there was a loud whistle from the stove, and the squire jolted and hurried back to tend to it.

Dream watched from afar, letting his bow disappear once more, as Blue seemed to ready a singular teacup.

Once it was finished, he carried both it, and the saucer, very carefully over to Dream's countertop perch. He offered it up to the prince, with a gentle warning of, 'hot'.

Dream took it carefully, and held it under his face. The warmth rising from it was comforting, and the smell was nice. Unfamiliar. And for once he enjoyed it.

Dream blew on the surface of the tea, making it ripple like some dark ocean, before he impatiently brought it to hid mouth.

It was hot, as Blue had warned, but not scalding. He held it in his jaw for a moment, lingering on the taste, before swallowing it down.

He took another sip. Then hummed.

"Squire Blue, will you take a sip of this? Tell me what you think?" He then offered the cup to Blue.

The squire seemed startled, but only for a moment before nodding in determination. He gently took the teacup from Dream, and tipped it so he too could take a sip.

Dream watched his face, and aa the heat subsided, Blue's expression scrunched. He seemed like he was trying to decide whether to spit it out or drink it.

The prince couldn't contain his laughter as it seemed Blue resigned himself to swallowing it. He held the cup back out to Dream in some sort of defeat.

"It's gross, isn't it?" Dream asked through his little fit of giggles. He cupped the tea back into his own hand, and watched as Blue seemed to try and outlast the awful taste surely lingering in his mouth.

"Y-yes, it is! I have never tasted something like that before, I apologize, Prince Dream." He said almost despairing.

Dream just shook his head, "No fault of yours! This appears to be some sort of black tea. Magical, probably." Dream explained, almost fond of the horrible cup of tea.

This was probably the first time he'd found such a thing funny.

If anything, his obvious joy at the situation seemed to let Blue relax a bit again.

Both of them had now experienced the horribly bitter taste of a Knight's favorite coffee, and now they were both complicit in deciding that it was nasty.

Dream let himself giggle again, and brought the cup back up to his mouth.

Almost like a shot, Dream downed the remainder of the liquid. Though it made him shudder a bit under its bitter flavor, the warmth did well to bring a heat to his ribs he hadn't had all night.

When he set the cup and saucer beside himself, he found Blue staring at him, as though he had something on his face.

(He did, it was mud, but Blue was not looking at it.)

"Prince, if it tastes bad, why would you finish it?" Blue asked in confusion.

Dream just shrugged a bit, "I think of the tea as a gift. Even if I do not enjoy it, it means something special to someone else, so it would be rude to waste it." He said simply.

Blue seemed to linger on that for a moment, before seeming to double-down on his concentrated expression. Then, all at once, he grinned.

"I know that you are a Prince, but I think that you would also make a very noble knight!" Blue asserted, before he scooped up the cup and set it aside on the counter.

He seemed to debate the sink, before noticing the piles of other dishes and simply sighed softly.

Dream popped away from the counter, landing on his feet with a tired yawn. His hand raised to cover the action, but Blue caught sight of it and burst into action, moving to Dream's side at an alarming efficiency.

"Prince Dream, if you are tired, then allow me to escort you back to your room!" He insisted.

Dream couldn't help but agree.

As they walked, a part of him wished that he could beg Blue to talk with him until the sunrise, and then stay up all over again the next night. He hadn't felt so comfortable in ages.

But, they had their places.

When the sun rose, Dream would have to be a proper prince again. Take a bath, send his robes to be cleaned, speak with the nobles here, try drafting another letter back home, and rot in the foreign place.

And Blue would have to go back to toting around that knight's swords and armor polish and make him that sickeningly bitter tea on command.

Dream wondered if Blue was even getting any real training, or if he was a glorified servant. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen the young man use his war hammer during training.

Though, all of these thoughts would have to wait.

The bland door to his room arrived, and Blue bowed and bid him farewell.

Dream entered the dark space for the second time that night, slipped off his sandals, and collapsed cloak and all onto his bed. Too exhausted to be afraid of dancing shadows.

[sillimancer]

I think if you are a library and don't have an ebook that should be illegal. when you open a library they should just give you infinity copies of every possible ebook for free.

[abugidaithink]

designed a myself! :D

doodles below cut

(the waving one is the only one i'm responsible for)

[utilitycaster]

I don't begrudge anyone their campaign preferences, and I think there's plenty of valid reasons to like Campaign 3 the best and this is not directed at people who are genuinely having a great time with it, but it feels like virtually all the nostalgia and wishful thinking I see surrounding Campaign 3 is screaming "you guys want Campaign 2." You want more slow travel and downtime and interparty conversations and slow-burn romance? You wish their main focus was fighting governmental corruption? You want a party that only semi-settles down at the end and keeps adventuring and remains very close? You're frustrated by how everpresent and overarching the moon plot is? You miss when they were just fucking around in a city? I genuinely believe you want Campaign 2, or at best you love a specific ship or a character from Campaign 3 but aren't happy about basically anything else, and would vastly prefer the tone and events and plot of Campaign 2. And I don't really care if you watch Campaign 2, or if you think I'm being annoying here; I simply genuinely believe you'd be happier watching Campaign 2 than Campaign 3 and are so deep in a sunk cost fallacy well you can't see it.

[crystallizsch]

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[howlsofbloodhounds]

Todays shower thoughts is more on the topic of if killer were plural/a system. Like in the reblogs of a post/ask I made—someone was talking about if the something new timeline had actually been a continuation of the handplates au and Gaster had created “killer”— with delta programming—in sans when he was a child.

I think Killer’s Stages would probably present more akin to how parts in osdd-1A is described in this scenario. As in, they are all killer; they all identify as killer—just some are killer is who is more monster, more like sans, and some are killer who is more chara/gaster, more human. They’re just killer in different modes, or well, stages. Following either different programs or has some sort of “failsafes.”

Or Maybe Killer’s Stages came later in this handplates to something new idea—split off from everything that happened with the human, but killer is still there due to events/childhood with gaster, splitting off into the other stages later on. So at first it’s just sans and killer, and then “killer” becomes sorta like a subsystem of their own.

Not sure what to do with the hallucination of Chara though. Could be an introject of course, but in canon they’re more of a hallucination, so turning them into a headmate feels a little off? Not sure about this one.