#or dimension travelers not realizing they changed dimensions)

[l0stvegas]

About twoish years ago I had this completely inscrutable dream where there was a new cardinal direction (like north, east, west, south) that suddenly started existing and was basically east but on a different directional plane. The name of the dimension/direction called “Crust”.

The way the Crust functioned was that the laws of physics changed where approximately 1 out of every 100 times something attempted to move east as relative to a compass, you’d accidentally cross into the Crust plane and be caught in a weird limbo dimension where your surroundings were a forever-looping snippet of whatever you last saw before entering the Crust. Think of how the infinite stairs in Super Mario 64 or how looping backgrounds in old cartoons like The Flintstones worked. Except, the further you descended into the Crust, the more your surroundings would gradually saturate and grow brighter until you were left with solid opaque white surroundings, and you would completely lose your sense of time and direction if you progressed too far.

This was an issue because the only way to escape the Crust was to move extremely fast westward and hope you could break “through” the crust back into regular reality, and you had to do so through the approximate point you entered the Crust. Some people would travel into the Crust for minutes or hours at a time not realizing they were in the Crust until they were inconveniently far from their starting point. There were even a few individuals who got presumably permanently lost in the Crust when they descended too far in to know how to navigate to their return point.

It got to a level where people in the dream were creating weird, deep-fried memes about how the Crust ruined their commute to work, which @/solsticeinstars and @/morrighancorbel on Twitter tried to make recreations of based on my description. There would be school classes cancelled because their teacher got Crusted and they couldn’t find a substitute in time, or truckers that went missing because they got Crusted while on their route and, tired from the road, didn’t realize they were in it until the point of no return.

I have nothing else to add this dream just haunts me and I needed to share it here

[nicepersondisorder]

i Need to find The Perfect fic about my hyperfixation Now or else i'll explode and will never be satisfied . nevermind that it's 8am and i havent gone to sleep since yesterday. hyperfixations never sleep

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

god they just. rebooted the show during s5 huh

[one-half-guy]

Thinking here about the theory that Gold were originally from the future of Blaze's dimension...

That would be soooo sad and tragic: She didn't only spent over a decade out of her birth dimension, she spent ⅔ of her life out of her "home" dimension, she was raised in this other dimension so that's the place she can call home, no hope of ever return to her original world because in the last time she saw her original world, it was being frozen at time, being petrified in an expression of terror for eternity, entirely by a huge and powerful monster.

Onyx City is, with all its defects, the home she knows that is not destroyed and beyond salvation. The place where she built lasting and solid memories, the world she adapted to live in, the home that there's a hero to protect...

At this point, she has no reason to look for a way to fix her original world, and even if it was possible, she has no reason to go back...

Meanwhile someday the Genesis Portal take the Team Psych to Blaze's world... And so? That world is nothing like the few she remembers, she wouldn't recognize... She would never be able to learn that this beautiful world full of life she's standing in for this moment will be, in a couple of centuries foward, the stage of the apocalypse that she witnessed around 10 years ago... She will NEVER know...

"Wow Silver, this friend of yours lives in a pretty nice kingdom around here." THIS KINGDOM WILL BE EITHER FROZEN IN A EXPRESSION OF TERROR OR DEVOURED FROM THE TIMELINE IN ABOUT 2 CENTURIES!!! But you'll never know...

Unless some Blaze's descendant around in the future is able to harness the power of the Sol Emeralds, so is able to fight back the Second Devourer... What means that the time passed there as well and everyone she knew learned to live without her...

Anyway, in either scenarios an adaptation would be hard and could be seem as "pointless": In a hand, if they couldn't fight back at first and the world just could be restored now, the time has not passed to them, Gold changed a LOT and is basically a stranger to these people that she remembers near to nothing about; In other hand, in case they could fight back and defeat the beast, this whole world might have changed too much from the few she could recall, nobody and nothing is the same as she can remind even if it's vaguely...

In both hands, she has already adapted to call Onyx City "home", the people she knows and learned to trust live in there...

[magicpiano]

I came across the AU idea that Dick Grayson is Richard Parker, and thus, Peter Parker's biological father. There are a few fics where Peter dimension travels to the DC universe and gets to meet his dead father. It is a fun idea, but I have different one.

AU where Peter dimension travels to the DC universe, and the batfam realizes that he is Dick's son, but rather than think he is from another universe, they all come to the conclusion that he is from the future.

It makes sense, after all, the rules of time travel basically boil down to 'don't change anything.' So when Peter is avoiding them and "pretending" not to know them, they just think he is following the rules. (He isn't even really avoiding them, he just has no idea who they are.)

You know how once you have an idea in your head, it take a lot of convince you that your wrong? Same idea here, they are so convinced of their idea that all new info ends up making them surer. Confirmation bias.

So Peter is trying to find a way home while the batfam tries to subtly help him without getting involved in time travel. Hijinks ensue.

Peter once mentions his love of photography and how he used to take pictures of heroes for a newspaper. Everyone looks at Tim and thinks, 'Gee I wonder where he picked up that hobby.'

At one point Peter pulls an assassin move, and Damian is like, 'I taught him that for sure.' (In reality Peter just trained with Natasha and Bucky before.)

When dealing with some issue Peter says something like, "I know a guy with some green angry problems and he taught me a lot about staying calm when mad." Everyone looks at Jason??? (He just picked up some meditation advice from Bruce Banner)

At some point he goes to the manor and everyone is like, 'Hah! More proof! He knows his way around the building!' He doesn't know his way around, his spider sense just lead him to where people are and kept him from getting lost.

He mentions Black Cat once, and everyone comes to the "totally logical" conclusion that Catwoman had a daughter, and that Peter and Felicia also have a weird almost dating thing going on.

Peter has been forced to go to some fancy events with Tony before so he knows how to act at rich people galas, which of course just adds fuel to the time travel theory.

Peter keeps accidentally referencing things that don't exist/didn't happen. Everyone just assumes these things didn't happen/don't exist yet.

[thewanderingconstellation]

Dimensional traveling Prince!Danny Fenton & Obsessed but still somewhat sane and logical! Damian Wayne

Just a random DeadSerious prompt I thought of at like 2am :>

Clockwork stumbled upon a peculiar universe where a group of humans had been engaging in bizarre activities. Recognizing the need for investigation, Clockwork assigned the newly announced Prince Phantom, a 14-year-old named Danny Fenton, to venture into this realm. It was a training opportunity for Danny, preparing him for his future role as King. Through a portal, Danny found himself suspended above the Lazarus pit, with Ra's al Ghul standing below him. Fortunately, Danny was dressed in his regal attire, which inexplicably aged him to 18 years old, sparing him from too much embarrassment. Ra's began questioning him, leading to a discussion about the potential dangers of the pit.

During his stay, Danny crossed paths with Damian, who was in the midst of his training. The 8-year-old assassin-in-training wasted no time in challenging Danny to a duel. As expected, Danny emerged victorious, leaving a lasting impact on Damian. Danny revealed that he too was an heir to a throne, possessing strength, power, and a tolerable personality, as Damian had previously remarked. These qualities managed to thaw Damian's cold and unyielding heart, finding a special place within it. From that moment on, Damian began courting Danny using the rituals he had learned from secret books in the league's library. He showered Danny with small gifts, heartfelt letters, acts of service, and even presented him with his second favorite knife.

In the meantime, Danny had been well aware of the situation right from the beginning, and he wasted no time in creating distance between himself and the child. Forget about it! Sure, he might be clueless at times, but he's not foolish! When a child hands you a thornless Rose and affectionately calls you 'Habibi', 'Rohi', 'Hayati', 'Albi', and/or 'Ya Amar'—even though he may not fully understand the meanings behind those words, he definitely knows what 'Habibi' means—you can't help but have doubts, you know?! So Danny tried his best to keep the kid at arm's length, not wanting to give him false hope. After all, the kid was only 8 years old for crying out loud! But you have to give it to the kid, he was incredibly stubborn and persistent.

As time went on, two whole months flew by, and Clockwork finally informed Danny that there was no longer any need for him to investigate or keep an eye on the pit. When Danny asked for an explanation, the old man, true to his cryptic nature, simply delivered a mysterious message and left, much to Danny's annoyance. All he could do was leave a letter of explanation for Damian. Damian's heart shattered into a million pieces when he read the letter, realizing that he would never be able to see or even meet Danny again, as they belonged to different dimensions.

Time flew by and it was finally the moment to reveal his secret identity to his parents as Phantom. Unfortunately, things didn't go as planned and he ended up being captured by the GIW, strapped to a surgical table for three days. After escaping, he made a quick exit from home, promising his friends and sisters that he would keep in touch. Clockwork then whisked Danny away to another dimension, sensing that he needed a change of scenery. Dropping him off in a crime-ridden city with just a backpack of essentials, including a dagger from Damian. As he transformed back to his human form in Gotham, he pondered his next move. Suddenly, a young vigilante? Hero? appeared and whisked him away through the city with a grappling hook. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse!

Damian, now taking on the role of the vigilante Robin, was out patrolling alone. His father wanted him to gain more experience on his own. As he made his way through the city, he noticed a faint but distinct bright light coming from one of the nearby alleys. Curiosity piqued, he decided to investigate.

To his surprise, he saw his beloved from years ago emerging from a strange green portal. Gone was the royal attire Damian was accustomed to seeing him in. Instead, he was clad in a black and white HAZMAT suit, with a symbol in the center. And astonishingly, he even held the second favorite knife that Damian had given him all those years ago.

In a matter of seconds, his beloved transformed into what Damian believed to be a Wayne adoption bait. Without hesitation, he sprinted towards them, landing in front of them and carefully assessing the situation. In one swift motion, he slung his beloved over his shoulder and shot his grappling hook, swiftly taking off with them.

Damian wasn't sure what he would do next, but one thing was certain - he would never let his beloved out of his sight again. He had lost him once, and he refused to lose him again. His possessiveness over the things and people he considered his had grown stronger.

Perhaps he would find a way for them to sign marriage papers, or at least become engaged, despite their young age. Of course, it would only happen if his beloved, Danny, agreed to it. Consent and trust were crucial in any relationship, after all. If Danny disagreed, Damian would resort to the courting rituals his mother had taught him. The conventional methods from books hadn't worked, so he would try his mother's unique approach. Granted, he was technically kidnapping him, but it was only a few steps ahead. Damian was determined to win his beloved's heart, no matter what it took.

[yandere-romanticaa]

"How long do you plan on keeping me here?" you ask with a slight sneer. The man in question hardly pays you any mind as his large back is still turned to you, his attention seemingly fully concentrated on some flashing images on the screen that change every few seconds.

All those weeks ago, you had been swallowed by a black hole and found yourself in a completely new dimension and by some strange twist of fate Miguel O'Hara had discovered you. He would often call you an "anomaly" and would say how you must go back home but should stay here in the meantime. Traveling through dimensions is rough on tough guy like him let alone a regular civilian who had zero combat experience. He would keep you close to him and his office, giving you little tasks and chores to keep you from dying of boredom and to, quite frankly, keep you away from the sea of endless Spidermen who were more than curious about your person as a whole, which risked you picking up their bad jokes and stupid attitude and Miguel was just not in the mood to deal with that. You relationship was purely professional with a slight humorous twist from time to time. Miguel was so easy to rile up, how could you not mess with him? Be it rearranging his stuff, poking and pinching his cheeks in order to get some sort of hilarious reaction out of him Miguel became your main source of entertainment. His stone cold attitude always backfired and instead of running away into the opposite direction like most people do, you stuck to him like glue.

Without even realizing it, your presence became a sort of weakness of his.

He lost track of how many images he had saved up of you in a secret folder of his and he just liked to... watch them. He just liked watching you in general. His face was devoid of emotion, his attitude was anything but welcoming but no matter how snappy he got, no matter how angry he may get, he never got truly mad at you.

People like to say that the eyes are the windows to ones very soul and Miguel O'Hara embodies that saying perfectly.

He could be having the worst day imaginable but all he needs to do is to see you, to look at you in your own element and he will feel like a brand new man.

He can't help but to be a little angry at you, for making him so weak.

You distracted him from his work, his duty, however, he still could not bare the thought of you being by anyone else's side. He needs you like a man needs air and you were left in the dark when it came to that fact.

Good.

You don't need to know the extent of Miguel's feelings, you don't need to see just how hard the flames of wicked jealousy roar in his heart and you most certainly do not need to know just how much his soul weeps to touch, kiss, protect, keep you.

He can keep that facade up only for so long though. And as much as he likes to think, Miguel is not the best when it comes to keeping his cool. It is only a matter of time before the dam of his feelings cracks and spills, overwhelming you and him both. Once that happens, there is no going back.

[moonesaiky]

OurWorldAU - Mystery Twins ⭐

WEEEEEEEEEEEEELL MYSTERY TWINS ARE BORN!!

B: Sixer? What's with the poker face? Aren't you excited for the next exploration? I tried hard to make a nice calendar. F: heh… Ah, hi turns to him I am, yeah, sorry scratches the back of his head and looks at the ground again B: squeeze his eye then what is it? You know you can say anything to me, IQ F: … That's fine but hah… you'll think it's silly B: 🤨 F: I can see the realities and possibilities with the powers we share look at his own hands and in most of them I had… great-nephews… Look sadly at his hands and squeeze them …It makes me wonder, almost every reality I don't open the portal and… B: Realizes and grimaces putting his hand on F Sixer's shoulder Look, you're getting emotional and you know that when you get emotional you don't use that beautiful, intelligent brain. Look, it's almost impossible for them to exist, the… Hmm Shermy, there was even the mother of the twins but she'll never have them. F: looks very tearful and thoughtful B: But you can have your nieces and nephews yet you roll his eye at Ford like that I can give you that, anything you want, Fordsy F: Wait? You can? Hopeful face returns B: Yes, I can raise them, the same as they are, personality, manner, tastes, but with a few details changed so they can live here, with us, they're not happy with their parents anyway. he shrugged F: But… Is that allowed? B: Everything is allowed for us smiles with his eye F: I… He smiled nervously Do you would do this for me? B: Anything you want, My Sixer.

Extra info: - Twins were born at the age of 12, they don't have a past but they already have their tastes built up. - They consider Bill and Ford to be father figures, and they don't argue about it - They have always known each other by the surname Cipher. - Bill still calls them by the “nicknames” Pinetree and Shoting Star, and they think it's cute. - After a while they were finally allowed to travel the dimension to explore (Ford and Bill are always on the lookout). - They are friends with the Henchmaniacs, although it was strange at first

[bet-on-me-13]

Unknown, the Wandering Hero

So! We all know the typical Vivisection AU, right? Danny is revealed to his parents and they take it in all the wrong ways. They capture him, Vivisect him, and eventually he manages to escape with the help of his friends.

But what about his Rouges?

Sure, we all like to think of some of the more friendly ones like Ember, or Sydney, or Johnny 13 and Kitty, but he has WAY more Evil Rouges than good ones.

Without Danny there to reign them in, the Rouges spread out across the world to fulfill their obsessions, unhampered by the Heroes and Villains of the world that have no means to fight them.

And Danny? He feels responsible. He was the one to open the Gate, he was the Sacrifice, the one to let them through. And when the going got tough he just up and left? No, that won't do.

His Obsession is Protection for a reason, and nothing has changed. All he needs to do is expand his area of focus a little.

Danny, after healing up, starts wandering the world in search of the Ghosts who have escaped into the Mortal Realm. He battles all of his old foes, as well as many new ones who he hadn't met before.

His travels take him far and wide.

He defeats Skulker in Metropolis, as he is trying to hunt down the Super Family for their pelts. They are the last of their race after all, so he is inclined to try and hunt them. Honestly dealing with Skulker was easy, dealing with the Rich Asshole who was funding him was a nightmare.

He chases down Spectra in Gotham as she tries to feed on the misery of an entire City. (Thanks to @impyssadobsessions for the idea, this Prompt specifically). She is actually a very tough fight, especially powered by both the Misery of an Entire City as well as his Own Misery, but he manages.

He defeats Technus is Central City, as he tries to Raid Star Labs for their advanced Tech. It actually took a while to beat him after he amped himself with all that Power, and he did need help from the Local Hero to deal with him. He's just thankful Technus is one of the more "Harmless" ones.

After every Victory, he sends them back to the Realms using the Banishing Spell that Sam taught him a while back (the only bit of magic he ever really managed to master).

He knows they'll eventually find their way back out, but it's all he can do anymore. It's his eternal Punishment for unleashing them out into the World in the first place. He was the Catalyst for this Situation, now he was tasked with Fixing it, no matter how long it took.

...

The Justice League is caught in a tricky situation a the moment.

In the past few months, they have been encountering more and more of these Extra Dimensional Beings known as Realms Ghosts across the World.

Justice League Dark has had some success in battling them, but even they are getting tired of having to deal with every single incident alone.

They did get approached by a Government Agency known as the Ghostly Investigation Ward that seemed to want to help, but it didn't take long to realize that their main Aim was to Genocide the entire Race. The JLA had quickly cut ties after realizing that, and took what little Tech and Information they had been able to gather.

Still, it wasn't easy to deal with these Entities.

Thankfully, they have had some outside help. An Unknown Being has been routinely showing up whenever a Realms Ghost appears and defeating them, before using a (as described by Constantine) "Rudimentary Banishing Spell held together by willpower and luck" to send them back to their home Dimension. There's honestly no way it should be functional, but he did make it work either way.

They don't know much about this Unknown, aside from the fact that he seems to be the only one able to consistently damage the Realms Ghosts. His Powerset leads them to belive he may be from the same Dimension, or at least drawing his power from the same Source, but as he actively avoids the League and takes every opportunity to not talk to them, they know they aren't getting any answers any time soon.

Over the past few months, they had affectionately started referring to him as Unknown, creative they know, because they could never get his Real Name. Sure, some of the Realms Ghosts seemed to recognize him, but they always called him stuff like "Whelp" and "Punk" and "Usurper", which were not very good names to use when referring to him. Although the last one was a bit concerning.

They had only managed to trade a few quick words with Unknown in the past few months, but it was enough to get the Gist of it. He was just doing his job, sending the Realms Ghosts back where they belonged. There was apparently a Tear in Reality letting them through, but he seemed hesitant to reveal what he knew about it.

After a few months of sparse interactions, they eventually managed to convince him to at least take an Emergency Communicator. Just in case. They even let him take it apart to look for any Tracking Devices, which earned them a small bit of trust. They took whatever wins they could.

Fortunately, it seemed he never did need it. In fact he was getting more and more efficient with every battle, defeating his foes in half the time it would have taken before.

Unfortunately, it didn't last forever. One day, the Communicator went off, a distorted voice quickly saying, "Need backup, some of them decide to Team Up" before cutting out.

They quickly rushed to his location, finding an active battlefield with no less that a dozen Ghosts battling Unknown. And he seemed to be on the ropes.

With their arrival, the combined force of the Justice League and Unknown eventually managed to defeat the Group of Ghosts. Justice League Dark volunteered to work on the Banishing Spells while the others cleaned up the damage from the Battle.

One of them approached Unknown to make sure he was ok, and froze.

During the battle, Unknown's Mask had been Torn off, and they could finally see the face of the Hero they had been working with for the past few months.

And he was a Child.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Normal 'Izuna survives' au but he gets isekaid into canon founders era and doesn't notice for a week (everyone is convinced he's a ghost)

He literally lives in the same house as Madara but Madara acts like this is normal bc hes been hallucinating so this is clearly just another hallucination

He only realizes smthn is wrong with Tobirama sees him and immediatley goes "what the FUCK" and suddenly everyone is going "oh god you can see him too????"

Izuna is on a quest to convince people he's not a hallucination (it's a losing battle)

Realistically tho, in that era, wouldn't it be more believable that Izuna is a ghost / somehow came back to life than fucking dimension travel?

Cearly the ghost of Izuna just doesn't realize hes died (common enough in ghost lore)

Tobirama is the only one who believes Izuna bc he has the brain cells to think ab dimension travel / time and space jutsu

POV Madara starts to convince Izuna he's actually a ghost. Maybe... he did die? And he just doesn't remember?? Oh god is he a ghost??? Is he dead????

Tobirama is standing by watching this shit happen with a look of disgust on his face (I'm sorry Tobi the stupidity is genetic)

Madara really said gaslight gatekeep girlboss, starting with yourself first

@beatriceportinari :

hashirama is trying to be compassionate and get him to move on and izuna just. stays there (bc he's not a ghost)

hsrm so desolate abt it

tbrm he won't move on 😦 what if he's stuck forever 😦

SORRY IM JUST PICTURING LIKE HASHIRAMA AND MADARA DOING A FULL EXORCISM LIKE OUTFITS AND SAGE BURNING AND HITTING THE DRUMS AND ALL AS IZUNA STANDS IN THE MIDDLE OF THEM LIKE 🧍‍♂️

Tobirama is standing nearby watching this shit happen fully aware Izuna isn't dead but no one will listen to him so !!! Might as well watch the show

@fashionredalert :

Izuna standing there like

Tweak it slightly to turn it into a happy ending where they get to keep him bc he eventually has to go back home: there was no dimension travel, for some reason he survived or was revived (zetsu interference gone wrong?? Or right ig, for Izuna)

IT LOOKS LIKE HES WAITING PATIENTLY FOR IT TO WORK PLS

@mengfm :

He fr came back to life/survived but everyone's convinced he's a ghost and are trying to lay him back to rest

The idea of people trying to re bury him is so funny. Left and right he’s trying to avoid having funeral rights just said to him

@beatriceportinari :

PLS YESS

montage where they make him lay down in a coffin and he's just laying there fidgeting like "this feels weird is it working yet"

noooo asdfghjh he's letting them do it'

maybe i should be dead yeah' izuna!!!

@mengfm :

"No I saw you die"

"Ok convincing argument I guess" -Izuna, apparently

@fashionredalert :

I know there’s that trope about the Uchiha burning the bodies with funeral rites could you image…Bro having to run away from Madara trying to burn him alive to lay him to rest again

@mengfm :

IZUNA GET ON THE FUNERAL PYRE

ITS TIME TO BURN!!!

@fashionredalert :

Izuna running through the village with rope ties around his hands as he runs

ZUNA STOP SCREAMING AND LET THE FIRE DO ITS JOB

"IZUNA COME BACK!!"

THEY TRY TO DO IT BUT IZUNA GETS TWITCHY AS THE FLAMES DRAW CLOSER THEN JUMPS OFF THE PIRE

"NO I CHANGED MY MIND"

"THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD"

Madara is chasing Izuna through the streets with a lit torch as Izuna screams about wanting to try a different way and Madara screams about how it'll work if he just STAYS STILL

@instant-bull :

(Hashirama looks out his window and asks Tobirama if he just saw Izuna running through the streets and Tobirama tells him to stop making shit up to get out of work)

@mengfm :

JSDNJNFSDJNSDFKSNDJF HASHIRAMA THIS WON'T SAVE YOU FROM THE PAPERWORK

That’s just a lack of sleep hallucination back to work!!!

@instant-bull :

Madara trying to burn his brother alive isn’t real!

"You'll get used to them" Tobirama waved his hand, the years of insomnia experience making him sound particularly knowledgable

@mengfm

Hashirama’s already moukoton scrambled brain is going to feel even more insane. This is not helping his sanity

@instant-bull

Hashirama starts to believe he sees into some alternate timeline or the past or whatever that shit was

HASHIRAMA ON HIS OWN INSANITY KICK BELIEVING HE CAN SEE INTO ALTERNATE TIMELINES

The ending is literally just Tobirama hitting everyone over the head with a rolled up newspaper and yelling that they're all stupid, going "HES alive. YOURE not hallucinating. and YOU can not see into other dimensions!"

Only sane person in Konoha

(Then in the epilogue he goes home and has his own regular hallucinations of his dead brothers)

Parts of todays AU are brought to u with the help of @instant-bull @mengfm @fashionredalert and @beatriceportinari, everyone say thank you to them

[foone]

you know what'd be a fun idea for a trek fanshow? Star Trek: Mission Logs. You just put a couple people in starfleet uniforms, and have them read off summaries of episodes in an increasingly incredulous tone. Like Drunk History: Star Trek Edition.

"so the captain says that while on the way to the inauguration ceremony, they diverted course to Vulcan as their first officer needed SO MUCH to fuck that he was a week from death, but then when they got there, he got stood up, and then fought the captain TO DEATH but he was ok?"

"so it turns out when they disappeared during the battle with the borg, they went back in time and found out that the first use of warp drive had been undone, so they had to personally help Cochrane rebuild his ship, and they were there for first contact!?"

I say "drunk history" because I imagine the people at the starfleet HQ have to drink heavily to handle the kind of reports they keep getting in from starfleet captains.

"So after a miserable first contact, the commander, doctor, first officer, and science officer disappeared, and their security officer found that the boardgame the barkeep was playing had pieces that represented them? and they were somehow mystically imprisoned inside the game!"

"so the captain says that they detected a ship trapped inside a black hole (!?) and when they tried to rescue the ship, they got damaged and then discovered they were that ship, trapped inside without realizing. Fortunately they found the crack in the event horizon and escaped." (the lieutenant then passes out after finishing the entire bottle of Bolian vodka)

"So while they were on a vital mission to locate the aliens who had blown up florida and were planning to destroy the entire planet, they found a... Cowboy Planet!?" Everyone yells "COWBOY PLANET!" and takes a shot.

"So while testing a weapons upgrade, a crewmember's case of flu was accidentally turned into an infectious de-evolutionary mutagen, causing the crewmember to turn into a spider, and the rest of the crew to undergo similar changes." "stop, stop, STOP! you made that one up, admit it!" "no, really! Their counselor turned into a frog." "ok, now I'm just not going to believe anything you say."

"so a former captain of the ship was visiting when they tried to rescue a ship flying directly into a supernova, but got 'pulled in'!? and ended up in a REVERSE TIME UNIVERSE? naturally, everyone quickly de-aged to children, and the elderly former captain had to take command" "Spelk, you're not even trying this time, that's not even remotely plausible"

"So it turns out that the terrorist who took over the paradise planet was the first officer's (half-)brother, and he uses his magic hypnosis to cause the crew to mutiny and join his mission to travel to the middle of the galaxy... and find god!?" "Did... did they find god?" "oh yeah! turns out he was evil. Don't worry, the first officer blew him up using a klingon warbird." "he blew up god?" "yeah!"

"So this is a little different, it's not a mission log... it's a repair log." "That doesn't sound like it'd be very weird..." "Oh, just you wait. So, they had to get refueled because all their dilithium had been stolen." "Stolen?" "Yes. By a man from AN ANTIMATTER DIMENSION" "So a man in an antimatter dimension discovered there were two dimensions, and his matter counterpart went insane and obsessed with killing the anti-matter version of him, but meeting outside the dimensional corridor would destroy both universes" "both... universes? So if the captain didn't stop these guys, everyone in our entire universe and some other one would be gone?" "YEP!" "did he stop them? well, I guess he did, since we're still here" "oh yeah. trapped 'em in the dimensional corridor forever." "so they're just out there in some weird in-between-the-universes place, just fighting, for all time? and that's the only reason we haven't blown up?" "YEP!" "and this all came out in the logs... because they put in for repairs?" "yeah. to replace the stolen dilithium" "are you sure the captain wasn't really into dabo or kotra and wagered the dilithium crystals on a "sure thing" that didn't pan out?"

"So this one is a report of some people (with pictures!) who don't exist." "They don't exist?" "Nope! never did. They weren't born." "So, we have pictures of them, because?" "Well, the ship crashed, and the stranded crew had kids... then they uncrashed." "uncrashed?" "yeah! so it turns out when they approached the planet, they got thrown a couple centuries back in time, and met their descendants. then when they tried to leave, the ship would crash, restarting the loop. but it didn't." "it didn't?" "yeah, one of the crew was secretly in love with another officer, but she wasn't going to survive the crash, so despite the crew attempting to recreate the crash to continue the existence of their past-future-descendants, he sabotaged the ship into not crashing" "wait, into not crashing? he did sabotage to make everything... work perfectly?" "yeah! they were trying to crash, remember? So they inadvertently didn't crash, undoing the existence of all of their descendants, so they never existed. But here's their pictures!"

"ooh, I found a really weird one! It's not a mission report, medical file, or even another repair log" "So what is it? Another weird artifact?" "no no no, I sent those off to the SCP division. This is a SPY REPORT! About a dead Romulan!" "So this report is on a spy saying that the Romulans had gotten access to some secret information about the then-upcoming Intrepid-class starships. Very minimal info, but this was found in a Romulan database when the ship was just undergoing initial design stages" "Here's the weird part: The database file with the information on the Intrepid was timestamped 2351, but Starfleet didn't even start initial design work on the Intrepid until 2364!" "So they used time travel? to get... basic information on one single starship class?" "Kinda? See, there's a P.S. on the spy file, added later when it was declassified. The leaked info in the Romulan database was discovered in 2371, but the file was updated in 2378, with an explanation." "and?" "Remember when the U.S.S. Voyager was lost?" "oh yeah, they turned out to have just been stuck on the other side of the galaxy, right?" "Yeah! And while they were there, they found a microscopic wormhole, and successfully used it to communicate back with the Romulans... but discovered it was a TIME WORMHOLE" "oh, so they were talking to the Romulans back in 2351?" "Yep! They figured that out and then decided not to transport through the wormhole, as they would have gotten home 20 years before they left, but they sent some messages back to be delivered later. They didn't come through" "why not?" "well... turns out the romulan guy (Telek R'Mor) died before Voyager ever launched, so he never got a chance to deliver the messages. but he DID inform the Tal Shiar about some design elements of the Intrepid class, years before it was launched" "that must have confused them" "yes... the report is basically just two spy agencies completely confused about what to do about the intelligence they had, and confused about why they had it"

"ok ok ok, enough artifacts, mission logs, spy reports, medical reports, repair logs, how about a really weird one: A SENSOR REPORT!" "why is that one weird?" "well, look at the timestamp. Both of them." "so one timestamp is 2372, and the other is... negative 16 billion?" "yep! This one is a scan of the big bang. And slightly before it." "... before?" "Yeah! They did a scan, and then THE BIG BANG HAPPENED, and then fortunately they got out of there before the universe fully existed, as that would exceed the ship's safety tolerances" "so... why were they at the big bang?" "well... you know the farpoint encounter, and that godly being the USS Enterprise ran into?" "oh god (uh, no pun intended)... but yeah, vaguely" "WELL it turns out there was another one of those godly beings who was suicidal and imprisoned in a comet, and-" "wait wait wait. there was a god trapped in a comet?" "yes. apparently they're infinitely powerful but weak to comets. ANYWAY. he was suicidal and trying to hide" "hide? WHAT DOES A GOD HAVE TO HIDE FROM?" "well he was hiding from the other god! the one at farpoint! that one was the one who imprisoned him. because he was suicidal." "so the god was in the comet, and the other god put him there, and someone let him out? and then he hid?" "yes! and where does a god hide?" "at the big bang?" "slightly before, but yes! and he took the ship along with him, so that's how they were able to scan the big bang. because of getting involved in a weird game of hide-and-seek between a suicidal god and a jailer-god" "so what happened? how did they get out of the whole god-war thing?" "well... usual stuff. they put the god on trial to see if he could be allowed to die, but compromised on making him human and a crew member" "so they had a former god on their crew?" "briefly. then he died." "he died? after settling for human?" "yeah, it turned out the jailer-god changed his mind and decided to rebel against god-society and started by giving the former-god some deadly poison to let him finally die, like he wanted" "well, at least that seems to have ended... well?"

"oh no, there's a follow up! see, it seems the dead god thing lead to a god-civil-war and it seems that caused a bunch of supernovae in 2373." "wait... supernovae? plural? like, outshined-the-entire-galaxy SUPERNOVAE? that must have killed billions, or trillions!" "yep! it was a massive disaster and caused a real crisis in astronomy because we had no idea why it was happening, but it suddenly stopped, thankfully. But yes, it was started because the crew accidentally freed a suicidal god from a comet." "oh god..." "literally!"

"don't worry, though... that's not the weird bit" "HOW IS THAT NOT THE WEIRD BIT?" "OK I PROMISE I'M NOT MAKING THIS UP... but after the first supernovae of the 2373 Calamity, it turns out the captain (of the ship that killed the god) discovered another god... in her bed" "her... bed?" "Yeah! it turns out the other god wanted to have a child. with her." "... that's weird but what does this have to do with the supernovae?" "he wanted to end the war, and figured the best way to do it was to get her pregnant with a god-baby"

"NOPE! That's it! I'm out. that's not real. you're making it up. We don't live in a universe where one captain caused death across the universe by sparking a god-war and then only ending it by having a baby with a god. I'm out. I have a Warp Dynamics test to study for anyway."

"wait! wait! I didn't even tell you about the time she turned into a lizard and had babies with her pilot" "NO! I DON'T CARE HOW MANY WEIRD THINGS YOU MAKE UP, THERE ARE NO LIZARD BABIES"

"no, I swear, it really happened! Look, they went infinitely fast and occupied every point in the universe!" "THAT'S NOT HOW SPEED WORKS" "it is! and it turns out going everywhere at once infinitely fast turns you into a lizard!" "*sigh* Are there any reports on unhearing that?"

I imagine they sometimes decide to go HARD MODE on the report readings, where they have to put aside all the ones with "Voyager" on them. They're just too easy.

"So I've got two reports here, and I want you to pick between them. One is the second weirdest transporter visitor log, and the other is a report on why a science officer is 30 years old... except his head, which is 495 years old!" "I'm going to cut you off there, because I know your tricks: those are both the same incident." "Yep! You got me. Am I really that predictable?" "You are. Also, second weirdest transporter visitor log? You phrased that very specifically..." "I wanted to rule out all the transporter accidents and strange misuses of the transporter, and focus solely on WHO was transported. This was the second weirdest person." "I'm not going to take the obvious bait and ask who it was... but I will ask: who is the weirdest?" "Lincoln. Abraham Lincoln. President of the United States, a predecessor to the unified Earth government... he died in 1865." "WHY WAS HE TRANSPORTED? Who was time traveling back to the 1860s? and if they were in the 1860s, why were they beaming up Presidents?" "HARDMODE: No time travel! He was transported out of open space in 2269, because he had been recreated by the local mineral beings on their lava-planet" "why... why did the lava aliens recreate a 19th century Earth president?" "To study GOOD AND EVIL!" "Like you do, I guess?" "Yeah... anyway, the recreated Lincoln got killed by a spear, thrown by either Genghis Khan or Kahless the Unforgettable" "THE FOUNDER OF THE KLINGON EMPIRE?" "Yeah! he got recreated too. And teamed up with Genghis." "No. no no no no no you made this up" "It's real! Check it out, there's a message here to the diplomatic department, asking for the proper protocol to accept a 19th century US president abort a quasi-military vessel. And there's a video clip! Hit play on that..."

"Man, video quality was terrible back in 2269" "Yeah, they were using analog tapes back then. Don't ask why. Retrotechnology studies are so complicated even without timetravel messing everything up. So yeah, apparently the answer is 'dress uniforms, security guys, whistle'" "oh yeah. You can't welcome a 19th century Earth president on board without a whistle. Where's your sense of ceremony!?"

"So I really have to go, my Intermediate Klingoneese class starts in like 5 minutes, but just tell me one thing: Who was the 2nd weirdest transporter visitor on the logs?" "Oh! Samuel Clemens." "Who?" "Mark Twain! Earth author, wrote Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn?" "What? How?" "Yeah, a crew found a time portal that went back to 1893, while trying to figure out why the head of one of their crewmembers was in a cave on earth, and accidentally sent him forward to 2368, and beamed him aboard." "Did they wipe his memory afterwards or something?" "NOPE!" "So the 19th century Earth author Mark Twain, who I'm now remembering wrote a novel about time travel, didn't he?" "yep!" "So he wrote about time travel and HAD PERSONAL EXPERIENCE WITH IT?" "Yeah! thanks to snake aliens, eating humans in the past"

"Yeah I'm gonna go ask my teacher how they say 'You deserve to die for your lies' on Qo'noS" "I think it's... Hegh nep qotlh SoH? maybe 'urmang instead of nep?" "I'M OUT, petaQ!"

(a transcript of a twitter thread I made from back in July 2020)

[edensreality]

You are always shifting. Even if you think you aren’t.

“I failed my shifting attempt for the 5th time!! I want to give up!” No, stay with me on this one.

First of all, I completely understand how you feel, 100%. Being sure you're going to succeed in your attempt, but then waking up in the same place you were before... But what if I told you it's not the same place you were before?

Think with me: as everyone knows, there are infinite parallel universes, dimensions, galaxies, and realities. What is the meaning of the word 'infinite'? It has no limit, no beginning, and no end.

So, what are the chances that, yes, you did shift realities, but not to the one you intended to go to? You simply moved to a universe that is increasingly closer to your goal.

"But what do you mean? I'm in the same reality I was in yesterday! Nothing happened to me!"

See? That's where you're wrong! To you, everything may seem the same as the universe you were in previously. But remember, we are constantly traveling between dimensions. You might not notice a difference from yesterday to today, but have you ever stopped to think that:

Someone, it doesn't matter who, somewhere around the world might have a different eye color than in the dimension you were in before?

Someone, it doesn't matter who, somewhere around the world might have a dog in this dimension, but didn't have one in the previous dimension?

Someone, it doesn't matter who, somewhere around the world might have a completely different life than they had in their previous dimension?

Just because nothing changed for you doesn't mean that some other aspect of your universe hasn't changed compared to how it was before your attempt. You simply can't see it because it could have happened to anyone in this world.

And I'm about to blow your mind: You don't even need the intention to shift universes to do it every night when you go to sleep because you’re shifting all the time!!!!

Every time you think you've had a failed attempt, it's not true. Whenever you change realities but don't end up in the one you desire, you're slowly getting closer to your goal, to your reality. You change universes every night, even if you don't realize it, but something will always be different.

You are the most powerful person in the universe, solely because you can shift realities, galaxies, universes, and dimensions to be what you want, have the life you desire, and most importantly, BE who you truly are.

@edensreality

[envysparkler]

Bruce is alone in the Cave.  everything reeks of misery.  there’s a new glass case front and center so that Robin’s tattered uniform is the first thing Bruce sees when he comes down here and the last thing he sees when he leaves.  his son is dead and the greatest unfairness is how the world keeps on spinning.

he’s interrupted by a godawful screech and the familiar burnt ozone smell of space-time ripping open.  it spits out an unfamiliar figure in leather and red and Bruce goes for a batarang the moment he recognizes the red helmet.

the Joker took his baby boy away how dare he Jay-lad his son is never coming back--

Bruce is only halted from murdering the stranger by the sight of the red bat on his chest and the man hurriedly rattling off the code for dimension travel.  Bruce reluctantly stands down.

Hood explains that he was hunting down this magic user who hurled him here, but is tightlipped on everything else, including his identity.

Bruce having to work with a man dressed as a symbol of the thing he hates most in the world.  Hood alternately too familiar and too distant.  he keeps staring at the case.  but there’s something about him, something Bruce almost recognizes.  a rage too deep for the world to contain, so the world took it away.

when Bruce manages to calculate the coordinates to send Hood back, he realizes he’s from the future.  he doesn’t ask Hood his name.  he doesn’t ask Hood what happened or what changed.  all he asks is if things get better.

Hood looks at the case and looks at him.  “always, old man.”

[thoughtsfromlayla]

Dreamweaver's Heart

Summary: The Dream Lord takes fascination to a new lucid dreamer in his realm, his Dreamweaver. The waking world is less than kind and he will travel dimensions to make sure you are safe.

Notes: ~8.6k, this was a request sent in by Anon based on this post! Otherwise, I'm sorry for having this fic take such a dark turn? It was supposed to be sweet but then in my search for more Tom Sturridge films, I came across Like Minds and it fucked with me. So now it fucks with my writing until further notice.

Warnings: Don't ever get attached to the characters I make for the plot, graphic descriptions of gore, death, murder, and drowning, betrayal of a friend, nonconsensual kissing (not from Dream), graphic serial killer activities, run in with a serial killer. Dream's a dream tho, a knight in black armor <3 Happy ending :D

I'm not going to say it's 18+, because it's not NSFW, but some of these themes can be disturbing. Please read the tags carefully.

Masterlist

“One, two, three, four, five, okay,” You count your right-hand fingers to yourself. Then cast your eyes on the watch you always carried on your wrist.

“8:13,” You take another look at your surroundings and take in the fresh air and kind sun. “AM,” you concluded.

You look back to your fingers and count again. “One, two, three, four, five,” You listed off in your head. Then one more time look at your watch. This time it read 5:15 PM, but the sun hadn’t moved. A grin crawls up to your face as you realize that you were dreaming. Lucid dreaming to be more specific. 

When you first heard about lucid dreaming in some off-handed news article you rolled your eyes and went on with your morning. There wasn’t much time in your life to worry about those things, not when another project was due, you had another meeting to attend, or another email to look at. But then life got unbearably hard to live with, stress kept piling up, and your vacation hours kept being declined. 

Your dreams turned from weird but forgettable dreams to nightmares of being chased, drowned, or murdered, only for you to both feel and witness again and again. When you wake up in a sweat at the ungodly midnight hours, you open your phone to find the news article again. It took you well over a month to get the hang of lucid dreaming but it was all worth the cognitive effort. Each time you go to sleep you count your fingers, then your clock, then your fingers, and then your clock again. There are always telltale signs that you were dreaming, dreams tend to never make sense so you look for those things. 

You intake another fresh breath of air and smile, head tilted towards the sun. The city air was polluted with car fumes and sewage smells, and while you loved the city, you do miss the easier days back in the countryside. You imagine the lush meadows, old trees, and the house that your grandfather hand-built for him and his wife. Before you the scenery changes and you’re sitting on a hand-carved rocking chair in a thin shirt and shorts. 

“This is the life,” You groan out to yourself as you begin the rock back and forth, thighs and arms trembling from a stretch. You stay like that for god knows how long, the waking world not a priority of your thoughts as you had the next day off. 

You only get up when sweat begins to collect along your hairline and the sunhat you are wearing begins to become itchy. A farm dog comes up to you and pants at your side urging you to go inside the house, maybe for a cup of lemonade, which sounded delicious the more you thought about it. 

When you look into the house from the windowed front door, a black figure briefly catches your eyes. It walks within the kitchen, running a finger across the worn wooden table and tracing lines of chipped paint over the tops of chairs. Confusion eclipses your face as his figure distorts on the thick glass and you open the door quickly. 

Much to your surprise, there was no such figure when the door opened. Your heart beats inside your chest and you look down at your fingers again. One, two, three, four, five… six. Six fingers, which is odd. You exhale slowly, it’s just a dream you say to yourself and carry on.

While sitting at the kitchen table you pinch your index and thumb together then bring both hands until they meet the other’s fingers. You pull them apart and a delicate golden string connects the fingers together. With a calming inhale of breath you move your fingers purposefully, drawing a picture of lemonade with a glass cup. If only it were this easy in the waking world. 

Lemonade appears on the kitchen table in a glass pitcher and you pour yourself a cup, chugging down the citrusy-sweet drink with a smile. You sit for a while, not particularly thinking of anything, your job had you doing enough of that. The kitchen window was open and you could feel the summer wind and hear the leaves rustling and mourning doves cooing. It was a scene straight out of your childhood, and if you concentrated enough you could hear the lawn mower going in the distance, the smell of freshly cut grass invading the house. 

A bark interrupts your serenity and you look over to the farm dog. He’s patiently sitting by his food bowl with a wagging tail. A small box of dog food appears on a nearby shelf and you go to him with a smile. 

“Are you hungry, boy?” You ask and reach for the kibble. He barks back in return and watches you intently as you pour a small serving. You then thought to yourself that, well, this is a dream and can dogs get diabetes in dreams? Probably not, so you dump the rest of the kibble into his bowl. It piled higher and higher and you can see a satisfied glint in the dog’s eyes as it begins to chow down on its food. 

You wipe your hands off on your shorts and toss the empty box into some unknown void in the hallway and go back to the kitchen. This time, however, two glasses were accompanying the pitcher. One, the glass you just drank out of, and the other, a half-drunk glass of lemonade. The condensation of the cool drink was still on the glass and you could see a clear handprint of where someone had grabbed it. 

You look back at the dog and notice that he is missing and panic sets in again. You look outside the window and the sun disappears, clouds rolling in with a sheet of rain. The ground around you starts to become wet despite the intact roof and it floods over your feet. The water fills up the space quickly. 

You try to calm your breathing and will the water to go away, for the sun to come back, anything to have your hours of peace before you have to wake up. But, nothing worked and the water came over your hips, and you’re hyperventilating now. The rain comes in through the windows in large gushes of water and you find yourself stuck in place, unable to move. 

“Wake up, wake up!” You chant to yourself, tears beading along your lower lash line. You pinch at yourself and are exasperated when you still don’t wake. The water felt too real, it was cold and piercing and you could feel the twigs and leaves of debris that brushed against your legs now and then. “This isn’t funny, wake up!” You cry to yourself again as the water rises higher. 

Behind you, in the shadows, the Dream Lord watches with intent. He always had a fascination with lucid dreamers, after all, they were able to minorly manipulate dreams to their whim. Something that the Dream King wouldn’t admit hurt his ego a little bit… just a smudge. But he had been watching your dreams lately and found it fascinating that you never dreamed of anything grand. No mystical adventure, no aspirations, and certainly no dreams of a more… sexual nature. Which, if he was allowed to comment, may be the reason why you were so stressed in the waking world and needed to find peace in his instead. 

“This dream is over,” He commands and waves his hand over the scene. 

You wake with a start, the sweat you produced while sleeping made your shirt stick to you uncomfortably and reminded you of your dream. You’re quick to get rid of it and throw it into your laundry hamper, now topless and rushing to the bathroom for a cold shower to calm you down. When you were done, your weekend alarm still hadn’t gone off and you were tempted to go back to sleep again. 

Eventually, you decided against it, unless you wanted to repeat what just happened. Purposeful, dreamless sleep hasn’t found you in a long time and you doubt it would come back just on a whim. You watch the sunrise in your apartment, sighing as sleep tugs at your body still. The cup of hot coffee in your hands felt more like decoration than anything useful as it didn’t give you the energy you craved. 

Thankfully you had nothing to do on your day off and you pat your past self on the back for going grocery shopping last night instead of making you do it today. You spend the rest of the day in bed, reading books on your Kindle and taking breaks by mindlessly scrolling through different forms of social media. Sleep tugs on your eyes but no matter how much you try to sleep, even a nap escapes you. 

The day goes by at a molasses-like pace, you don’t even remember eating. But once the sun has set and the stars made their debut, you happily resign as sleep overcomes you. The Kindle falls somewhere off your bed as you lose consciousness. When you come to your dreams, you’re greeted by a whale… in a tutu. 

Your laughter is hard to contain at the sight as you watched it dance on its fins to Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, part of your favorite ballet to watch when you were younger. It splashes some water on you and you use your hands to cover your face. It’s then that you remember to count your fingers.

“One, two, three, four, five,” All five fingers. What time was it? You repeat the ritual that has been so ingrained in your head and when you notice that you only have four fingers on your second count, you know then that you have control over the dream. 

“Thank you for your entertainment tonight, my friend,” You wave goodbye to it as the scenery changes around you. 

You’re back out in nature. A low-hanging tree greets you instead and a white and red checkered blanket is laid before it. The blanket had a mighty spread of slices of bread, jams, cheeses, meats, and tea. You make your way over and sit on the soft blanket, slowly picking the foods to taste. The atmosphere was perfect and the wind blew the smell of fresh water into your nose from the nearby pond. Ducks and geese honk at each other in greeting as they swim by. 

Deeper in the picnic basket was more food, but you found them in pairs. Two sandwiches, two teacups, and two dessert cakes. You quizzically stare at them as you hold the two sandwiches, one in each hand. You didn’t eat that much, did you?

“I see that you have started without me,” A voice comments. 

You jump in your skin at the sudden intrusion and look up. You see a man, dressed in casual black with an impressive coat. 

“Isn’t it a bit too warm to wear such a long coat?” You ask instead. 

You don’t protest when he sits next to you and hand him a sandwich instead. He places the wrapped food gently on the ground before taking off his jacket. 

“Better?” He asks as he goes to grab his sandwich again. 

“Hmm,” You only hum in agreement and start to unwrap your own. It’s a few minutes of silent chewing before you realize how weird this is. “Wait, who are you?” 

“No one you haven’t met before,” He answers vaguely. His sandwich was left untouched except for the bread which he threw at the ducks near the pond. 

You chew slowly as you try to digest his answer. He pours you a cup of tea which you drink freely from, murmuring a thanks as he hands you the fine china. The smell of vanilla and peaches invades your senses as you sip on the sweet tea. The favor takes you by surprise at how wonderfully it paired with the sandwich. By the end of the picnic, you have learned two things, your mystery man was great company, and that carbs made you comatose. 

“Oh, my god. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much food in one sitting,” You sigh happily as you lay down on the blanket. Your head hits the hard ground and an idea sparks in you. 

Once again you pinch your fingers together and then bring your hands together. You intertwine and loop the golden strings that emit from your movements, much like an old childhood game of yours, Cat’s Cradle, and produce a small pillow. 

You place the pillow down and give it a good smack before laying down again. The sun envelopes you in a kind warmth that makes you smile. You see dancing shadows behind your eyelids when you close them to enjoy the moment. 

You hear rustling beside you and turn your head towards the man lying down beside you. He really was quite beautiful, something more than a man, perhaps a deity. He is lost in thought, almost, as he thinks about your abilities, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. 

“You have a great side profile, you know?” You don’t know why you said that, but rarely in dreams do you know why anything happens. 

Your comment makes him chuckle, a sound that you wish to hear again. It was light-hearted and pure, something that you wouldn’t expect to hear from someone who looked like him. You couldn’t help but laugh along, finding his happiness contagious. 

“Thank you,” He says when he is done laughing. 

When the giggles leave your body, you go back to relaxing and soon you doze off. The rest of the dream is peaceful and pure, no more nightmares to haunt you tonight. The Dream Lord looks at you fondly as the wind blows some of your hair astray, happy to assist you for once in his realm. As long as he is here, you won’t have to fight your demons on your own again. 

The next morning was the first time in a long time that you felt energized. The old coffee pot is nearly forgotten as you get ready to go on a morning walk, something you have done in a long while. Afterward, a shower, and then lunch with an old friend you haven’t seen in months. He had decided to drop by after his work allowed him to come into the city. 

You meet with Oliver at a local cafe and you order tea this time around, along with some soup and a side salad. The AC is on full blast as more and more people come into the small building. You were lucky to find Oliver already waiting for you at a small table by the large windows. He waves at you when you come close enough and then pushes his glasses back into place. 

“How have you been, Poppet?” He starts right off the bat with a smile, using the same nickname he’s been using since grade 3. That smile brings you back all the way to your younger days when you first met him as your new neighbor. 

You think briefly about possibly mentioning your horrid dreams to him but decide to skip it, seeing as you didn’t want to ruin the mood for today, not to mention the peaceful dream you had last night all but almost made you forget it in its entirety. 

“Oh, you know me, running around like a chicken with its head cut off.” You joke with a self-deprecating laugh. Your comment makes you realize that you have to go to work the next day and deal with annoying clients all over again. “Same shit, different day,” You mutter in conclusion. 

Both of your foods arrive just in time for you to ignore the glare he sent your way. Instead, you find fascination in the soup you choose, the same soup you had for the past three years of your life. 

“What brings you into town?” You ask as you pick apart the complimentary bread. 

“Work, of course. Though I never thought it would bring me to this place.” He gestures to the city around him. 

Oliver works as a farm veterinarian so, rarely, does he come into a large city where each piece of green is covered in concrete or chewed gum. And, of course, there are no farm animals around. He goes on to talk about a conference that he was invited to, something to do with the fight on farm animal antibiotics. You only nod along as you ate your lunch, your talents lie elsewhere but don't want to seem rude. 

Only scraps of your meal are left when the two decide that it is time to depart ways. 

“How long are you staying in the city?” You ask outside the cafe. The weather was almost perfect today, save for the slightly chilling wind that came every now and then. 

“About a week.” Oliver puts on his jacket and then pushes his round glasses back in place. 

“A week, huh?” You thought out loud before a smile came to your face. “You should come by the exhibit later this week. My client is showcasing their art, and going together would be fun.” 

“I’ll be there.” Oliver takes the business card you hand him, the heavy paper turns from warm white to gray as the sun disappears behind some clouds. 

Rain begins to drizzle and splatter on the card. 

“Aw, man. What?” You complain and put your jacket over your head as the rain continues to fall. “There wasn’t a rain forecast today,” You grumble to yourself. 

The two of you step under the cafe awning, the thin fabric providing little protection. 

“Do you want to stay at my place until the rain lets up? It’s just a few blocks from here.” You offer. 

“Lead the way, Poppet,” Oliver says with a smile. 

You smile back as you hype yourself to run through the rain. Thank god you wore sensible shoes today. With a squeal, you run in the direction of your apartment. You hear Oliver laughing behind you as he follows closely behind. Your laughter and giggles continue when you two find the comfort of your apartment and quickly turn up the thermostat when you get inside. 

“Wow, you’ve decorated the place nicely,” Oliver whistles his approval. 

He kindly sets his dripping jacket on the coat rack before you do the same and thank him. He shakes his head, much like a dog, you mused, to get rid of the water as his hair splays out from his actions. You, the more sensible one, simply wrung it out over the kitchen sink. 

“Yeah, if work can’t destress me why should my own home be?” You nodded along. 

The storm had raged harder ever since you got inside, the rain pelting on the window. If you didn’t have company over, you would’ve tossed all chores to the side and huddled up for a nap. Sleeping has been wonderful ever since you figured out lucid dreaming. 

“Poppet, you got a remote for this giant T.V, or what?” Oliver says as he pokes his hands between couch cushions. 

“Erm, yeah, somewhere on the T.V. stand.” Your comment was absent minded as you poke around in your small pantry for some snacks. 

Your eyes lock on packets of hot chocolate you didn’t know you had and what could be more perfect than a rainy day and hot chocolate with a friend? You squint at the box, looking for the expiration date. When you find it, and see that it’s been expired since last christmas, you pretend you don’t. 

There’s probably enough preservative to make the powdered drink last until the end of days, right? Plus who is throwing out food like this? In this economy? You scoff to yourself. 

“Want hot chocolate?” You ask, peeking at Oliver’s form in the living room. 

He stands in front of the T.V., hip slightly popped out to support himself with a hand on his hip and the other on the remote. The news comes on instead of your usual menu of different streaming services and a confused look takes over Oliver’s face when he turns around. 

“No, not that remote, the other one,” You laughed and went ahead to the fridge to warm up some milk anyway. 

“Which remote, you have, like, 13 for no reason!” He cries out exasperated but goes to the stand to find the correct remote.

The news continues to play and with nothing better to do, you listen in while you wait for your milk to warm up. 

“There has been a recent murder here in our lovely city and we encourage citizens to remain vigilant. The killer has not yet been caught and there is no pattern as to what kind of victims they take.” The news anchor speaks. 

“Oh, shit.” Oliver stops his search as he, too, starts listening in to the news. 

“Welcome to the city, I guess,” You shrug with a defeated sigh. The milk starts to shimmer before you turn off the stove. 

“Still, you should stay safe,” Oliver comments as he finally finds the correct remote, turning in to a streaming service and picking a light hearted movie. You’re mixing the chocolate powder, spoon clinking against the non-matching mugs, and when you don’t answer right away, Oliver presses again. “You will be safe, right?”

“Yes, mom,” You sarcastically groan. “I’ll be safe.”

“That’s my Poppet,” He chides, some of his accent slipping through, and sits down. He opens an arm for you to sit next to him before you hand him the hot chocolate that you made. 

“Careful, it’s ho-”

“JESUS!” Oliver exclaims as his face flies away from the mug. His shocked face makes your own burst out into laughter, so much so that you have to set down your mug so that you don’t spill it all over yourself. 

“Are you laughing at my pain?” Oliver jokes and pokes your sides.

The ticklish action only makes you laugh harder, if that was at all possible. Seeing your reaction, Oliver goes to poke you again, and you defend weakly as your laughing makes you all but weak. 

“Sto-stop, you’re going to make me pee,” You choke out between fits of giggles. Your hands were clenched to your sides as a last ditch effort to conceal your weak points. Your cheeks were starting to hurt and your smile was so wide that you couldn’t even open your eyes anymore. You were simply at the mercy of feeling true happiness.

Oliver eventually stops and the T.V. goes into a mandatory ad break (I mean, you’re not going to pay for no ads after already paying for the streaming service, let’s be real). Your energy is sapped out of you and you deflate into the couch with a satisfied sigh. 

“That was the first time tonight I heard you laugh that hard. Has the city been that mean to you?” Oliver asks, now cautiously sipping his drink. 

“The city is not mean, it’s just different than home,” You reply with a roll of your eyes. “I wouldn’t change it for anything though.”

Oliver hums in response, whipped cream stuck on his upper lips. You could tell he wanted to say more but decided to keep quiet instead. Eventually, the two of you fell into a comfortable and familiar silence as you watched the rest of the movie. 

You ended up crying at a particular scene and Oliver, same old Oliver, poked at you again to try and get you laughing. The rain still hasn't stopped and you’re glad to live on a higher floor of the apartment complex or else you would’ve had to worry about potential flooding. 

At the end of the day, you ended up cooking dinner for the two of you as well, convincing Oliver to stay and have a warm meal before going home alone. Especially considering the news about the killer on the loose. You’re on your third movie when the two of you finally finish your late dinner and you fall asleep on the couch against Oliver’s much warmer body. 

The body underneath you shifts and your eyes snap open. 

“Sorry, Oliver, didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” You apologize before you’re completely awake. 

“It is nothing of note,” Someone else’s voice responds instead. 

You rub your eyes and take a closer look at him and are surprisingly greeted by your mystery man. He wears the same clothes as the last time you met, only this time it’s warranted as you feel the chilling wind brush against your prickling skin. Unconsciously you crawl closer to him again and he wraps a protective arm around your body. 

Looking around at your surroundings you notice that the two of you were huddled amongst the clouds. Stars and nebulas dance around the two of you in sparkling wonder. When you reach out your hand to touch a star and find it surprising when you are greeted with a cold feeling. Your hand snaps back quickly and you tuck it under your arms to quickly warm up. 

“Guess I’m dreaming again,” You comment nonchalantly and lean back. The clouds seem to know where to stop and you’re lying comfortably by the man’s side again. 

“Ever the perceptive one,” He responds back. 

“I didn’t know I could dream of something this… spectacular,” You think to yourself, taking the risk to rest your head on his shoulders. Besides momentarily stiffening under your touch, he doesn’t move away, something you took as a good sign. 

“You did not, I did,” He says slowly. 

“Hmm, it’s nice, thank you.” You close your eyes and enjoy his warmth. 

Besides you, the Endless smiles to himself at your compliment. To him, it was nothing more than the wave of his hand to gift you this dream. He would be lying to himself if he were to say he hasn’t been waiting for you to cross over to the Dreaming since your last dream. His fascination for your abilities grows stronger yet. 

Yet, he has created a beautiful enough dream that you didn’t find the need to change anything, something he takes pride in. Your waking world has left you tired and weary, and he is here to provide. A tugging sensation pulls at him and he remembers why he is here. 

“My Dreamweaver, I have something to tell you. You must listen carefully.” His words were calculated when he spoke. “You are in danger, be cautious.”

“What?” 

“This dream is over.”

You wake up in your bed with a dry mouth and a pounding headache. When you roll over to look at the glowing digital clock, it reads 3:00 AM. With a groan, you leave your warm bed to tread the treacherous cold apartment for a glass of water. 

You fill up a small cup with some water and notice that by your sink is a small note, scribbled in red crayon. Your tired eyebrows shoot up at the note and grimace at the atrocious handwriting that was undoubtedly Oliver’s.

“Poppet, I can’t find your pens but I found this crayon by the TV remotes Don’t worry I called a cab I won’t get murdered tonight cause I’m vigilant unlike some people Mwah, Oliver” 

That night, your mystery man didn’t visit you again. He only leaves his vague message that echoes in the empty chambers of your heads. You’re plagued with dreams of drowning and despite all you can do to take control of the nightmare, there is nothing you can do but subject yourself to the violent, crashing waves. To constantly inhale gallons of gallons of salty water, to feel your muscles tired out, to feel yourself lose control. 

Your only salvation throughout the week was seeing Oliver again at the art exhibit. The murders haven’t stopped and it’s gotten enough traction for everyone in the office to talk about it, too. Yet, you could turn to your dreams instead to find relief. 

The man clad in black follows you still into your dreams, any mention of his message is quickly shut down or ignored completely. At the end of the day, you don’t mind, his company is more than enough to make your dreams sweet. He accompanies you through wildflower fields and stardust skies, he brushes your hair by the seashore and tells you the myths of old. Each day is a new dream and brings forth a reason to keep going. 

“A few nights ago,” He starts as he watches you gently touch the petals of a flower made of snow and glass. You turn to him expectantly and urge him to continue silently. “You did not call for me when you were having that nightmare.”

It takes a few moments for you to realize he was talking about your drowning nightmare. The one you so “wonderfully” had after an amazing time in the swirling cosmos. You begin to walk again, your shoes making no noise against the cold snow. The man follows beside you, face tilted towards yours in anticipation. His question had been burning at the back of his mind since it happened and he held on, barely, for the answer. 

“You can’t really scream when you’re drowning.” Your lousy excuse comes out and even you flinch at the words. 

You don’t dare to look at him, knowing the disappointed look he was surely giving you. Everyone knows that anything is possible when you dream, even more when you can lucid dream. After a very pregnant pause you give you real reason. 

“I don’t know your name, how would I call out for you, my sweet mystery man.”

It’s now that he stops walking and after a few steps, you too pause and turn to look at him. In the cold mountains of your dream, the snow is stark in contrast to his ebony form. It is here that you recognize how different he was, like the snow pulls away from any distractions and you look at him, really look at him. The facade of just a man falls away, and within, you see a being beyond your comprehension, held together by sheer will. You were right, he was more than mortal, more than a god, something more in every sense. 

“I am Dream of the Endless,” He says, voice slow, calculated and raspy as he closes the gap between the two of you. “I am the very dream you are in, the voice inside your head, the person you think you’ve met before while walking the street.”

You’re very aware of how close he was to you now, to see the precipitation of his breath, and the way his eyes are never truly one color. His form keeps the winter chill away from your body, warming the very spot you stood in where snow turns into sunlight and the ground beneath you turns to soft valley grass and wildflowers made of toffee candy and sour rope candy. 

“Would you really have come if I called for you?” You ask timidly, head turned down and away from his gaze. 

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You say with a smile, cheeks crinkling your eyes as you look at him again. All Dream could think about was making a sun that shines as brightly as you. 

Your dreams seem to start leaping out into your waking life as the words of the Endless follow you. Every now and then you would notice a flurry of black and alabaster skin in the peripheral of your vision, but when you go to look it’s nothing but a chair, or a stack of books. His familiar face haunts you when you space out on the bus ride home, or when you’re simply walking down the street and someone bumps into you that just barely looks like him.

Each time you shake your head no, it was impossible, he was only a dream. 

The night before the exhibit, Oliver gives you a text message that explains that he would need to be picked up from another location. A client had called him for an at-home euthanasia early in the morning right before the exhibit. You agreed and were sent an address. You brush your teeth and wash your face before turning into bed, sleep coming easily. 

Your dream starts, as always, with you counting your fingers. Then you look at your watch, and then you count your fingers again. Your clock had 5 hands instead of two and with control over the dream, you find yourself standing in an Asian inspired pergola surrounded by water for miles around. The only sounds that accompany you are the sound of the sloshing water and the wind’s percussion between the mountain cracks. 

You sit on the wooden flooring, cooled by the water, and inhale the scent of fresh water. You bring your fingers together, just like always, and watch as the golden strings move with your movement, producing a pouch of fish food. Large koi fish swim beneath you and you run a finger across the water’s surface and watch with a small smile as they chase your fingers as you sprinkle some of the golden kibble along the water's surface. A koi leaps up and bites your finger and the sharp pain flings your arm away from the water. 

“Ow, what the hell?” You frown and look at your finger, the pouch dispersing into gold dust. Pressing into the digit allows blood to leak from the wound. You don’t have time to think about it when your alarm blares at you and you wake. 

Your day starts in a rush, slamming your hand over the off button of the alarm clock. You skiddy your way into your bathroom, brushing your teeth, combing your hair and doing your makeup. Your outfit was ready on the door of your bedroom. The casual formal wear was perfect for the day ahead. Comfortable but respectable and easily spotted if someone were to come looking for you. 

You look at your watch before briskly walking out the door, a few minutes ahead of schedule and traffic. When you arrive at the house Oliver had told you to, you stand outside the door as you hear murmuring from inside the door. You remember why Oliver was here in the first place and slowly lean against the wall to wait for him. 

“He was the most perfect dog, he was loved, he was cared for. And it gives me great honor that you allow me to ease his suffering so he may continue to run in the never ending fields of the afterlife.” Oliver’s voice carries through the thin wall. 

Sobbing follows after and hushes of comfort as the dog passes in the arms of the owner. Uncomfortable that you were involuntarily eavesdropping in such a private conversation you start to play with your hands, picking at the nails and the cuticles around them. It’s now that you see, with a quickening heartbeat, a closed over wound on your finger. When you run your thumb over it, the pain long since subdued, you are reminded of a feisty koi bite from a certain dream. 

Was it real then? The dream, or merely the pain?

“Ah, Poppet, you’re here already,” Oliver’s whisper pulls you out of your thoughts slowly. “Is your finger hurt?” He notices and reaches for your hand.

“No,” You say quickly, perhaps too quickly, and move your hands away. “It’s just a scratch. Shall we go?” You turn before you give him a chance to answer. 

The exhibit, while productive, was blanketed over by a feeling of grief and melancholy. Your artist was soaking in the praises of success, but you find yourself sticking by Oliver’s side, drinking mimosas hoping the little alcohol could erase the uneasiness in your throat. Your finger gives phantom pains now and then, reminding you of the breaking cracks between dreams and real life. 

It’s only noon and you’re exhausted, giving the keys to Oliver to drive you back to your place. As if to taunt you even more, the elevator was down for repairs and so arm in arm, you and Oliver make your way up the seven sets of stairs until you reach your own apartment. 

“Oh my God, I can taste blood,” You whine, leaning all of your weight onto Oliver by the fifth floor. He, on the other hand, could not have looked more pristine. 

“When was the last time you exercised?” He chuckles as he lets you rest for a moment. 

You groan as your hand grasps onto the worn metal railing. “I briskly walked to my car this morning,” Your voice is gravelly and hoarse as you use your arm to continue upwards. “After the elevator ride down to the main floor.”

“Good grief, woman,” He jests. “We need to get you to the gym.” 

“Over my dead body,” You huff as you make your way again, steps heavy and stomping, the sound echoing in the empty chamber. 

The barren of your door gave you the last bit of energy to finish. The sight of your couch was enough for you to flop onto it and simply wish to perish. You’re breathing heavily out of your mouth, face to the ceiling and bounce when Oliver sits down next to you with exaggeration. 

“Don’t be dramatic,” Oliver teases, barely winded by the seven flights of stairs. You on the other hand felt like you had just come from a week at sea with nothing but a row boat and canned crackers. 

“I’m going to go shower, do you want to stay for lunch?” You ask, already halfway to your room after you caught your breath. 

“No, I’ve got my own thing to do, packing mostly.” You hear Oliver’s voice from the bathroom. You turn on the water to let it warm up and peek out of your bedroom. “Alright, I’ll see you off in a few days, yeah?” 

Oliver’s outside your door and the sudden proximity makes you jump in your skin. 

“Geez, you scared me. I thought you were still in the kitchen,” You say behind a small laugh. 

“I’m going to head out, alright? But yeah, let’s meet one more time before I leave later this week.” Oliver smiles and pokes your forehead. 

“Sounds good,” You agree, staring at the finger. 

“Stay safe out there, Poppet.” He waves and goes for the door. “I’ve got a cab waiting for me downstairs.”

You use the shower to cleanse yourself of not only the physical properties of today, and more importantly the sweat you accumulated walking up the steps, but also the more emotional toil. The warm water seemingly soaking up all of your depressive thoughts. It runs down the water and out the drain, and you feel lighter when you step out. 

You’re drying your hair with your towel when you see the brown square that is Oliver’s wallet sitting on your couch - opening it and seeing his ID card clarifies it. You groan as you know that he can’t get anywhere without his wallet, especially if he wants to leave. 

An internal debate was settled with going to his place before you pick something up for dinner. You place the wallet by your keys near the front door and make yourself some lunch, and put some much needed laundry into the washer while it cooks. You watch a small episode while you eat before returning to your work laptop and answering emails. 

The day goes by quickly and the rumbling of your stomach tells you that it’s time for dinner and more importantly, returning Oliver’s wallet. You redress in the same clothes you wore earlier that day, deciding to just deal with the high heels as any other shoe wouldn’t tie in well with your outfit, and you were not going to go out looking anything less than put together. 

How lucky you were when you walked down the hall to find the elevator back in operation. Down, down you went, seven flights of stairs to the parking garage. The echoing beep of your car tells you where Oliver had parked for you and you climb in. 

Traffic was a pain in the ass and you couldn't take another slow minute during dinner rush. Beeps and honks accompany you all the way to Oliver’s home and it takes a solid 45 minutes to travel 10 miles. You knock on Oliver’s door and you don’t know why but you’re nervous. There wasn’t an answer and you knocked again. Nothing. The door is unlocked and with a shrug to yourself you enter. 

All of the lights were turned off when you entered, fumbling about to turn on the lobby light near the door. The rented home was much bigger than your medium apartment and you seriously start to regret your career choice. 

“Oliver?” You call out, taking off your shoes and putting them aside. 

No answer.

“Ollieeee…” You sing out as you make your way further into the house. You drop the wallet on the dining room table and still nothing. You knew he was here, somewhere, the rental car he had was still in the driveway when you pulled up.

You bring out your phone, about to call him, when a small noise directs you to a staircase that leads downstairs and you make your way into the finished basement. When you open the door, something you never thought you would see greets you instead. Yes, Oliver was there but so was another woman. She’s tied down to a wooden table and you think you’re interrupting something if it wasn’t for the way her teary eyes snap towards you. Despair is washed out with a small glint of hope as her trembling hand reaches for you. 

“Help me,” She pleads. 

Oliver calls your name, almost breathlessly, and walks closer to you. In his hand holds a small knife, blood already smeared on the glinting metal. He greets you with a smile, but your attention is on the woman on the table. 

“Please.” She sobs again. 

You’re numb, on the brink of hyperventilation, and you’re sure that if you had gotten dinner before coming here you would’ve thrown up all over the vinyl flooring. 

“Oliver,” You gulp down as you take a step back.

He advances with another step, knife still in hand as the blood drips down onto the floor. He approaches you like a predator to scared prey, and he wouldn’t be wrong. His weaponless hand wraps around your wrist, warm and alive just like all of the other times he has done since you became friends all those years ago. 

“Come here.” He guides you closer. “This is our guest, Poppet.” He introduces. 

The woman squirms against her restraints and cusses. “Stop calling me Poppet, my name is fucking Alora, let me go!”

Oliver guides you closer and then slinks behind you, using his body to trap you from the exit. From this distance you can see the cuts and bruises Alora endured and you lean away in denial. Bile crawls up from the bottom of your throat begging to be released, it’s acidity painful to swallow. Alora’s tear stains seem permanent as another one follows its path as she watches the two of you lean over her. 

“Let.. let her go,” You say with a shaky breath. It’s the opposite of assertive, the opposite of a demand.

Oliver sighs behind you and slams the blade down on the table and both you and Alora flinch at the sudden noise. He laughs behind you, the breath tickling the nape of your neck. 

“I thought we could… share her,” He responds. You feel his lips on the junction of your neck and your body trembles again. 

“Share… her,” You echo.

This wasn’t real, there was no way this was real. No, you were definitely dreaming, Oliver took you home and then after your shower you fell asleep. He never left his wallet at your place. Oliver heals, he would never… 

You look down at your fingers, they’re shaking but still countable. One, two, three, four, five. You look at your watch, and with dread you notice that everything is in its place. One, two, three, four, five. It’s still the right time. One, two, three, four, five. 

“A dream, this has to be a dream. A nightmare.” You lie to yourself. Your thumb presses into each of your fingers and to your dismay, there are still five. 

You look down at Alora again, her eyes wide and begging and her fingers go to grab at you. 

“Ah, ah, none of that.” Oliver notices and pushes her fingers away from the two of you. 

His attention turns back to you again. “What do you think of it?” He asks, his hands resting on your hips and to your further disgust inhales your scent. 

“What do I think of it?” You echo again except this time it was more harsh, judgemental as it should be. 

Oliver scoffs and leaves your side. He walks to the other side of the table, knife back in hand as he points it to Alora’s face. 

“Look at Poppet here, notice anything?”

That’s when you look at her, really look at her. At first you didn’t see it, or maybe your mind was simply trying to prevent you from seeing it, but under Oliver’s scrutinizing gaze you notice with teary eyes. Her hair was the same color as yours, so were her eyes, they even mimicked the way yours were shaped. Her lips curled just like yours as they’re upturned in agony. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” You gag, your hand flies to cover your mouth as you dry heave. 

“No, don’t be, my sweet Poppet,” Oliver comes to you again and holds your face steady. His eyes have always been like they are now, caring, soft, non-dangerous, but seeing his actions made you doubt everything. “Here, you can watch for the first time instead, how about that?”

“Wh-what?” You gape and he pulls away from you. He places the knife over Alora’s throat and her sobbing and pleas grow louder. 

“NO!” You scream and go to reach for the knife, unsure where the sudden bravery comes from. But, it’s too late, he slices, you feel the way his muscle moves under your palm, how it grips the blade, how it ticks when it kills.

The blood sprays and decorates you in its red and sticky liquid and you’re left stunned. Beneath you, you hear as Alora chokes on her own blood as her body trashes as a last ditch effort of escape. Oliver looks at you with a smile, his white shirt decorated just like yours. He looks at you with adoration and something like pride as he places the knife down and comes to you again. 

“You look even more beautiful in red, Poppet,” He compliments, but it falls on deaf ears. His lips press to yours in a one sided kiss and you weakly push back. “Let me clean everything up and then I’ll take care of you, okay?”

You stand still as you watch him, rag in hand as he begins to clean. 

“You were the most perfect person, you were loved, you were cared for. And it gives me great honor that you allow me to ease your suffering so you may continue to live free in the never ending fields of the afterlife.” Oliver’s familiar eulogy snaps you out of your shock, if not for a brief moment. 

It’s enough for you to run out the door, adrenaline blazes down your spine and pumps to all of your limbs. The door almost flies off its hinges as you open it into the dark night. You don’t know where you’re going to go, but anywhere is better than here. 

“Poppet! Wait!” Oliver screams behind you and he’s fast to catch you. 

Your bare feet scrap across the concrete sidewalk as your vision blurs with salty tears. You trip into an alleyway and sob, your pristine clothes now covered in dirt and blood, and you hear the crack of your watch as it breaks under the fall. At the edges of your mind, a small girl with wild and colorful hair peeks at you in fishnets, the world warps, distorting the difference between reality and delirium. 

A moment of clarity comes to you as you remember something. It tries to fall between the crevices of your mind but you grab onto it and hold it close. 

“Would you really have come if I called for you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Dream,” You cry out into the darkness. Oliver finds you on the ground and his arms pick you up. “No, no, let go of me!” 

The man clad in black doesn’t show his face and you beat yourself over it, because of course he doesn’t. It was just a dream. This is reality. Despite it all, you try one more time. A name falls on your tongue, one you didn’t previously know. 

“Morpheus!” You scream and the calling echoes in the suburban neighborhood. 

Oliver pays you no mind and hoists you onto his shoulders. You’re pounding at his back but his muscles never falter. He walks back with heaving breaths to his house when he is suddenly stopped and drops you. You unceremoniously roll and then sit quickly to run away again. You’re stopped short at the sight. 

In front of Oliver stands a man, his form fuzzy at the sides and blends in to the night around them. He wears a helm made of bones, accompanied by a bright ruby necklace, and a leather pouch of sand. 

“Dream?” You question and his gaze turns to you. You can’t see his eyes past the large bug-like design of the helm, but you know he sees you. 

“Who the hell are you?” Oliver sneers at him.

Dream doesn’t reply and instead he shrinks back into the shadows and wisps around until he stands in front of you. You hide behind his back as he protects you from Oliver. 

“Hey, get away from my Poppet.” Oliver takes a step forward but is stopped by Dream’s words. 

“Be quiet,” He commands. It’s two words, but it renders him speechless. “I turn you into prey. Your judgment upon you is to be hunted. Even after you wish for death, you will form into another and be hunted again. This is my gift to you, Oliver Barlowe, make good use of it.”

The curse is etched in stone as he speaks. He pours from his leather pouch and sand falls between his fingers. He curls then unfurls them before blowing the particles into Oliver’s face. You watch with horror as his form shrinks under the swirling sand and he turns into a shrew. He runs into the grass, his brown fur lost amongst the foliage. 

“Hello, my Dreamweaver,” He whispers and crouches to your height on the cold concrete. He extends a patient hand and you grab hold. “Come, nightmares shall hunt you no further.” 

“You came,” You say, still in disbelief as he helps you stand. 

“I kept my promise. I do not break such vows, ever.” His fingers gently wipe away the tears from your face. 

"You're real," You whisper, still not believing that he stands before you.

His fingers trace across your bottom lip as he comes closer to you still. Dream doesn't say anything, he simply soaks in your presence, drawn to you in a way neither of you could comprehend. His fingers still trace your face, running over your nose and the apple of your cheekbones.

You feel the swirling of sand around your feet and the world changes around you. You’re in the meadows again, surrounded by flowers made of snow and glass, and you see the cabin your grandfather built. Dream sits you down on a white and red checkered picnic blanket with two glasses of lemonade. 

“Will you stay?” You ask as you grab the cool glass cup of lemonade. Your gaze turns to the sweet yellow drink and you rub the smooth glass as a way of calming yourself. 

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You smile. 

Alsooooo, very inappropriate use of being a veterinarian, we don't kill people and we don't make that much money, sigh

My Sandman comics came and they're so heavy... Second also, Comic Dream is such a mood

Maybe a more lighthearted fic for next time, hmm?

♡ Yours, Layla

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

In another life pt 2

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader

Summary: A visit to Nanami and trip down memory lane

Warnings: Language and suggestive themes but only a bit lol

Part 3

****************************************************

A/N: was so overwhelmed by the amount of love I received for part one!! Thank you all so much for the support😭🩵

“This is definitely a first” Nanamis gaze travelled up and down your body.

You shuffled uncomfortably from your place on the couch. Gojo stood leaning on the wall behind you.

“Yeah I’ve been hearing that a lot today..” you sighed.

“Hmm, well from what I know. This curse has been known to travel through dimensions, which is why he’s been so hard to catch in the past. He disappeared several years ago after somehow escaping from a seal. Looks like he ended up in your universe.”

“That makes sense, it was only a couple years ago he appeared and Satoru subdued him. A couple months ago he told me he found some weird residual energy on the seal but otherwise everything was ok… I guess the theory of the spy was correct but…” you brought a hand to your chin.

“Go on” he encouraged.

“We placed three seals on them. There’s no way an amateur broke through them… I wonder if he has any clue on who it could be...”

BZZT BZZT BZZT

“Another call?” Gojo tilted his head forward.

You picked up the phone and read “Weird Bangs” well speak of the devil!

“Nope just a text.”

-Hey you ok? Satoru just told me what happened. Don’t worry, we’re investigating as we speak. We’ll have you home in no time.

You smiled warmly and replied,

-Thanks Sugu, I have complete faith in you two. And don’t worry I’m ok.

“Anything important?”

“Not really, Sugu was just checking in. By the way, is he on a mission or something? I haven’t sensed your version of him yet. Unless you don’t have a version of him which would be honestly so weird since I swear you two are like your own couple..”

Little did you know the room had gone from warm to freezing cold.

“What did you just say…”

“Huh?” You tensed seeing the mood was a bit off now.

“Wait…don’t tell me he’s…dead?” Instant dread washed over you.

“No..he’s very much alive…” (excuse me while I change the timeline a little)

“Then what’s-“ you tilted your head.

“Nanami, what can you tell us about the curse transporting other people?”

You blinked at his sudden change in topic.

“Honestly nothing.” Your shoulders slumped.

“Really?”

“Yes but I promise I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you get home safely”.

“Thanks Nanami…” you tried not to feel to sad, after all you had so many people working hard to figure it out.

“Well it’s getting late, why don’t we continue this tommorow, Nanami you’ll reach out if you find anything yeah?”

He nodded, “I’ll dig into some of the old archives, and let you know what I find.”

“Thank you Nanami” you smiled and followed gojo out of the room.

“So what now?” The sun had set and you realized that for the first time in years you were not going to sleep in your own bed, cuddled next to your husband.

“Well… I could take you to one of the spare dorms here but considering the curse is still out there I think it’s best if you stick with me”

“So back to your place?” Haha that takes you back.

“That ok with you?”

“Mhmm” not like I’m used to anything else but being with you…

“Ok then, hang on” he touched your shoulder and suddenly you were transported to a place that smelled like fresh linen and his cologne.

“Oh wow this takes me back” you flicked on the light and took in the old place.

Gojo raised a brow that you seemed to know your way around.

“I take it you’ve been here before?”

You nodded fondly while taking in the place once again, “yeah, we spent so much time here back while we were dating…I lived in a really crappy apartment that you had to bend down in.” You laugh at the memory.

You turn to look out the floorlength window and promptly scream.

“AHH is that me!?!? Have I looked like this all day!?!” You could barely see your skin it was covered in dirt and grime from the previous fight and your hair was basically inviting birds to make it their home.

“I need to shower…” ah crap I didn’t think to stop and get clothes.

“I’ll find you some clothes… the shower is over the-“ but you were already beelining towards the bathroom eagerly to wash the filth off of you.

“Right you already know… so weird” he crossed his arms.

The second the steaming water hit your body you sighed in relief. It took a good 15 minutes for the water to run clear.

Using his body wash sure took you back to the days you’d sleep over. Those days were some of the best of your life. Watching movies late into the night, eating junk food, making out, falling asleep tangled together…

You shut your eyes before the tears could come.

No, none of that, you had the best and strongest people on the case. You’d be home soon, so let’s think of this as a weird mini vacation.

After your shower you dried yourself off and peeked into the bedroom where the door connected to. Sure enough you found a set of his pjs on the bed.

His shirt engulfed you, looking more like a dress. You thought for a moment to forgo the pants but realized you probably shouldn’t go pantless and underwearless around new Gojo.

Once you were decent you stepped outside into the main living space.

A delicious aroma immediately invaded your senses.

Wait… no fricken way!?

“You cook!?!?”

“Huh?” Gojo paused to look back over his shoulder. “Of course I cook… does your Gojo not?”

“He- he tried once but burnt everything… and anyway I’m home way more so I usually do the cooking..”

“Well I hope you like seafood, I haven’t gone shopping yet so there wasn’t really many options.”

He turned back to the stove to continue stirring.

You sat on one of the counter barstools and watched him in awe.

He even has the towel thrown over his shoulder and everything...

“So tell me about other Gojo. How did you guys meet?”

“Well… actually it’s kind of embarrassing…”

“Oh well now I have to know”

“Well I was jogging by this old elementary school and this curse popped out. It was so cute tho it looked like a super fluffy puppy. And then suddenly you popped in, ready to blast it to smithereens when I jumped in front and defended it….” He paused his stirring and looked over at you again.

“Yeah I know.. it was crazy but the curse really wasn’t that bad. So anyway I picked it up and started running away from you…”

“Pfft seriously?”

“Yeah… you should’ve seen your face haha. I made it about 10 steps before you warped in front of me”

*Flashback*

“Uh listen lady, that thing your holding is very dangerous so it’s best if you-“

“No way!”

“Huh?”

“No way, he’s just a little baby, he hasn’t hurt anyone!” You hugged the curse tight to your body and for some reason the curse seemed… relaxed?

“Lady… it’s a curse.. we can’t exactly just leave it to roam free..”

“Well then….”you thought for a moment..

“I’ll keep it!”

“You’ll keep it…” he repeated to himself in disbelief

“Mhm hm” you nodded.

“Uh…” he watched you snuggle the curse closer and the curse for whatever bizarre reason seemed content.

“It hasn’t hurt anyone has it?”

“Not that I’m aware of..”

“Then it’s settled! I’m keeping him.”

“Uh…”

“Don’t worry, I have some skill in exorcizing curses if anything goes wrong but it won’t will it little cutie?” You rubbed under its chin and it started to purr.

“Ok so you’re serious…uh well here’s my number… in case he decides to turn murdery and you can’t handle him”

You smile and hand him your phone, when he hands it back you glance down and let out a little gasp.

He smirked, you must’ve realized who he was now.

“You have the same screensaver as me! I love that show!!”

Oh

“Haha well it is a good show, even if the heroine sucks.”

“What- what did you just say?! She’s the best one!”

“No way, if you ask me the best friend should be in the spotlight.”

“That snobby bitch? No way” you made a face.

“Snobby? I see it as confidence.”

“You must’ve gotten knocked in the head too many times by a curse..”

“Well it doesn’t really matter, I think she’s gonna take that job in the next episode.”

“Wait you think so? As much as I hate her, she makes the story interesting.”

“Yeah I-“ BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT

“Ah sorry hold on”

You watched him turn and take the call. Looking at him now, even without seeing his eyes you could tell he was good looking.

“Sorry, duty calls. Make sure to call me if…that thing suddenly decides to eat you ok?”

“I will, thanks”

He whooshed away and you looked down at your phone.

Satoru Gojo….

Oh my god

No fucking way…

He had the same name as your favorite book character! What a small world…

“Alright cutie, let’s get you home. I wonder what you eat?”

*End flashback*

“Don’t tell me you still have that thing?”

“That thing has a name and his name is cutie. And to this day he hasn’t hurt a fly! Well actually that’s a lie because he does eat all the bugs around the house.. but other than that he’s harmless. He does chew the furniture though..” awe I hope he’s ok..

“You’re a little strange you know that?”

“You’re one to talk..”

“Hey, you shouldn’t insult the hand that feeds you.”

“You’re right sorry chef” you bowed jokingly then went to grab plates to set the table.

“Oh I hope you don’t mind me touching stuff.” You retracted your hand afraid he might get upset.

“Be my guest.” He waved nonchalantly.

Ten minutes later you were sat across each other.

“Oh lemme grab some drinks” he stood up and disappeared into the kitchen again.

You nodded and began plating your dish and his. His having three times the portion like usual.

Gojo came back and sat down with his mouth slightly open.

You realized your mistake and felt heat rise to your cheeks. “S-sorry it- I did that out of habit. Didn’t mean to make you feel weird..”

“It’s fine it’ll just take some getting used to is all…” he smirked and dug in.

“Thank you for the meal.” You twirled your fork around the shrimp and pasta and took a bite.

Oh

Oh

Oh hell no

“Something wrong?”

“Satoru this is amazing… like really really amazing”

“Glad you like it”

“No but seriously this is so good…Why can’t my version do this??”

You took another bite and swooned, maybe you’d leave your version for this one…

BZZT BZZT BZZT

“Oh it’s you! Well other you..”

“Satoru?”

“Hey babe you doing alright?”

“Yeah, I’m alright… we met with Nanami earlier, he said he’s going to do some more research and let us know if he finds anything..”

“Same here, Suguru and I are tracking the curse down but it’ll take a little bit of time, he’s a slippery one that’s for sure”

“Mm, sorry for putting everyone through this trouble…”

“Don’t worry, I have plenty of ways you can make it up to me later”

“Ah geez I need to stop putting you on speaker..”

“You’re not alone? It’s pretty late..”

“Yeah well other you thought it would be best to keep me close for safety reasons. I’m here at the old penthouse actually.”

“….”

“Toru?”

“You’re with other me?”

You blinked. “Uh yes?“

“Hey other me!”

You tilt the phone closer to this Gojo so he can hear better.

“Uh yes?”

“I know it’s tempting but no canoodling my girl alright?”

“S-satoru!”

“Not even a little touch, I mean it.”

“Satoru what are you talking about?! I just met the guy!”

“And? Do you remember how I was back then?”

“Well...” yeah a manwhore..

“Oh yeah and another word of advice, no girls over to the place. She gets suuuuuuper jealous, one time she even told our pet to attack and-“

“I did not! That was-!-you know that was an accident!”

“Mhmm sure”

“You know cutie feeds off my feelings, I didn’t tell him to bite her arm!”

“Of course sweetheart of course..”

“You- what about that time you hijacked my date!”

“That was purely coincidental, I was in the area.”

“Sure you were…”

“Anywhoooooo, did you take your meds?”

“Y-yeah”

“Liar”

“Hey make sure she gets those pills, she’ll faint without them and I don’t need her falling into anyone else’s arms”

“S-satoru good night already, I’ll talk to you later…”

“Alright sorry, you know I worry. Night baby, don’t feel too lonely without me”

*click*

“Ugh annoying jerk” you words didn’t match your soft tone.

Gojo leaned back in his chair and scanned your form.

Did he? Did a version of him really fall in love and settle down. You were certainly beautiful but he’d been with a lot of beautiful women.. did your strength draw his attention? He supposed he hasn’t seen you fight yet, maybe he would fix that soon..

“Oh uh sorry you had to hear all that again, I hope it’s not too weird”

“Well I’m not gonna lie and say it’s normal but..”

You smiled and brought another forkful to your mouth.

“Thank you for everything, really… you don’t even know me and you’re doing all this..”

“Well hey don’t worry about it, any alter ego/universe me’s wife is a friend of mine”

“Heh thanks” glad to know all Gojos humor are the same across universes.

After dinner you helped clean up and were lounging on the couch while Gojo went to shower.

He wouldn’t mind if you turned on the tv right?

So far this Gojo was 99.8 percent a carbon copy of yours so no he wouldn’t mind.. plus tonight the new episode of “Wishing I was yours” was airing and you couldn’t miss it..

And that’s how Gojo found you 20 minutes later, arms wrapped around your knees cuddling a pillow, tearful eyes glued to the TV screen.

‘No! No you can’t leave me. You can’t give up after everything we’ve been through’

‘Forgive me my love, you’ll have to continue this journey without me…’

‘No! I need you!!’

‘I’m only going to put you in danger… it has to be this way… I’m sorry’

‘Noooooooooooooooo!’

How can she watch this crap…

Gojo made his presence known and stepped in front of the couch.

“Oh hey, I-i hope it was ok that I- ah no don’t go!!” Your focus was quickly redirected back to the gripping scene. You groaned when the credits rolled.

“Dammit you were right about the ending…now I have to do that thing… ugh” you mumbled into the pillow.

Gojo couldn’t help but be curious what that thing was but stayed quiet.

“Don’t tell me that I actually watch this kind of stuff?”

He sat on the other end of the couch watching as you paused the tv and turned towards him.

“Well not at first but we worked out a deal, every week we watch one of my picks and one of your picks… but ugh you always choose the scariest stuff…”

“Better than unrealistic lovey dovey crap…”

“Unrealistic?? Says the one who spouts the most corniest lines 24/7”

The title screen for another episode started playing and he swiftly grabbed the remote.

“Allow me to show you what true cinema is.”

Uh oh, you had a bad feeling about this..

1 hour later

“Ah no way no way no way” Gojo smirked watching how you hid behind a pillow shaking like a leaf.

“Oh come on, it’s not even the scary part yet…”

“Liar! Ew ew ew I accidentally looked again”

“Human snake vs Octogator is a masterpiece , you’re insulting one of the greatest films of all time!”

“You just chose this because you knew it would scare me!”

“Lady I barely know you, is that something I would do?” He smiled, glowing eyes peeking behind his glasses.

“Yes, that is exactly what you would do..”

Well you sure did seem to know him he was realizing more and more…

After the movie you were basically half asleep so Gojo decided to call it a night.

Sleepily you rose up and followed after Gojo to the hallway. But instead of turning right to the guest room you automatically turned left to his room and bumped into his back.

“Huh”

You froze, eyes shooting up to his.

“A-ah s-sorry!” Embarrassed you darted to the guest room and shut the door.

BZZT BZZT BZZT

Hm?

*NEW MESSAGE*

-Since you’re all alone, use this to tide your appetite over xoxo

*image loading*

“Ah-!”

The heat rose to your cheeks immediately.

(I’ll let you imagine what kind of picture he sent lol)

-Don’t send anything back tho ok? Don’t want the creep next door spying on you and catching a glimpse of my pretty girl~”

-he’s in another room obviously..

-wait he wouldn’t look through the walls with his eyes would he??

-would- did you ever do that??

-ah gotta go baby, the line is bad, nighty night!

-We’re texting idiot, what line?! And answer the question!!

-xoxo 💋

Ugh jerk… you threw the phone on the bed then slowly got in the unfamiliar bed.

You hated sleeping alone… even when he was out on overnight missions you were surrounded by his scent, his clothes, his everything…

You grabbed a pillow and snuggled it for comfort.

“I miss you idiot…”

Part 3

***************************************************

Aaaaaaand that’s chapter 2! What did you guys think about Suguru’s mention hehe. The angst boat is coming y’all, but first came a little fluff before the storm. Please lemme know what you thought! Until next time!

@gojosatorulover7 @goaway-plzz @goldenglow149 @taakt17 @kneesheee @yumii-34 @ritsatoru @generalstephkenobi @author20 @bitchycloudstrawberry @hojoslutoru

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: hurt me, it’s okay || part two: here

summary_ Spiderman and Spiderwoman from earth 1610 met by casuality, she goes back to the Spider Society, reunites with Miguel and while he debates telling her she’s in his canon events, Spiderwoman makes a decision, to help Miles Morales.

warnings_ age gap! (8/9 years), angst, not a lot of scenes with Miguel, slight canon divergence

note_ listen to my playlist for Miguel!!!!! (Proofreading this later)

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇🕸️𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇🕸️𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇🕸️𓆸

Time healed everything for sure. A prolonged smile rests on your face as you walk through the streets of Brooklyn, New York. Summer is around the corner and you are visiting the state with your parents. But you decided to take an afternoon walk after dinner with them. As the weeks progressed, soon they turned into two months. Deep inside your heart, you resented most of your past. But you did your best to let go of the pain, to forgive Gwen, Jess, Peter, and Miguel.

Some nights you went to sleep with him in your thoughts, wondering if he’d also be thinking of you. Perhaps he cared for you and he sent you home for your security, but… he was so cold, so indifferent towards you. Which only confirmed… it was only you who felt everything.

Either way, many things had happened. In two months, you have changed a lot. You grew quieter, reserved, and slightly insecure. The spiderwoman suit was left behind at the back of your closet. But something told you to bring it to your New York trip.

One thing’s sticking to you, of what Miguel said to you once, about never being ready to assume the role of being a spider. You immediately learned it after losing your best friend.

You got scared, hands covered in blood, sirens quickly approaching the scene, your friend whispering to you to go, that it was going to be fine, to keep going. But the trauma only made you grow mixed feelings towards your abilities.

Till the day you realized you were capable of opening portals and traveling across dimensions without a gizmo. Like a ghost moving through dimensions, you started doing your job. Remembering your best friend’s words; you kept going.

The temporary barrier you made for your earth was still holding you back, secure from your past, working on the present. Earth - 1610 already had a Spiderman, so their Spiderwoman would serve outside. As soon as the barrier was broken, you knew it was a matter of time before they came for you. And you knew well, if they came, it was because things were going bad.

But for now, you are having a break.

Your smooth steps are calmed and you are feeling relaxed. The city is extremely crowded and you realize how different it is from California. But your gaze lands on something that reminds you of home; a pastelería. As you read they have conchas, elotitos, mantecado, and more, the smell invades you.

Your smile grows bigger as you step closer, and before you can even try to open the door of the place, someone opens it from inside.

“fuck…” you grunt as you feel the impact of the door in your nose.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, I’m in a rush and…” When you look up, you see a kid well, a teenager, who’s taller than you.

Your spider senses connect with him.

“You’re like me…” says the boy.

“You’re the Spiderwoman from California. I thought it wasn’t real!” you frown at him, then slowly nodding.

“And you’re Spiderman too… How old are you?” He’s wearing an oversized jacket, and he holds two boxes of cake.

“I’m fifteen. And you? How long have you been Spiderwoman? Why aren’t you surprised? Why there have been three Spider-people on this earth?”

“Woah, boy, those are too many questions in one sentence. I’m y/n, I was bitten three months ago and I’m twenty, by the way” he nods, looking at the boxes in his hand before looking at you again.

“I’m Miles, and I’m running late. Come with me, please”

“I’m a stranger”

“Oh please, you don’t meet spider people every day,” Miles says and you sigh, remembering you used to be part of the Spider Society.

“I can’t just follow you. Besides, Where?”

“My home. It’s my father’s celebration, he’s getting promoted, he’s a cop” You nod, but still unsure, feeling your nose throb and knowing you have to go back to the hotel with your parents.

“That’s nice, but they don’t know me, neither you do.”

“Please, I bet you don’t have anyone else to talk to about this?” you used to have many people. You fell in love with one of those. But now, Miles is right, so you nod, agreeing with him.

“Just say that you used to study with me at Visions Academy” You nod, feeling that it wasn’t a good idea to go with the kid, but it felt correct.

“Fine, but I won’t stay long enough” the boy smiles, feeling very happy and confused about meeting you.

So to his home, it’s rushed. Miles tells you that he fought a very strange villain that morning, a man who had spots all over his body. He also shares that he’s having some trouble with keeping his secret from his parents.

By the time you arrive at his apartment complex, you realize maybe it wasn’t that much of a bad idea to follow him.

…

For a long time, you had stopped caring about being alone in random places. But Miles had a tough argument with his parents and there you were left in the party where you were the stranger. You ignore the curious looks of the attendants, eyes locked on the two tables full of Puerto Rican food. You grab two alcapurias and after the taste of one, you realize they are to die for. The party is very pretty despite the awkward moment where Miles bolted away after the fight.

“Hi!… Miles said he brought an old friend from school, you are…” Startled, when you turn, you encounter Rio, the mother of Miles.

“I’m y/n” You are beyond embarrassed, with your mouth full of food and sweaty hands.

“Right, y/n. ¿Y hablas español?” Rio asks, her arched brow lets you know she’s judging, but thankfully you will make her happy.

“Así es, mi familia y yo somos chicanos, de California. And I’m so sorry for intruding like this, Mrs. Morales” The woman’s smile grows and you swear she wants to hug you.

“Oh, that’s amazing. You are unlike that other friend of Miles… Wanda. You can call me Rio” You nod, accepting her hand to shake. But all you can think about is that name… you have heard it before.

“And don’t get me wrong, Miles said you were older and you look responsible… but… please be honest with me” You leave the now empty plate on the table because the woman seemed to be serious.

“Is Miles in trouble? Because… he’s been very… difficult. He skips classes, lies to us, and-“

“He’s a good boy. I promise, he loves his parents and wants to make them happy. But he’s under pressure. I promise, Rio, he’s a good boy” Despite meeting Miles two hours ago, you know he’s good. You know he wants to do well, and you know what it is to be hiding your spider persona from your loved ones.

Rio nods, offering a little smile.

“I’m really glad to meet you. I’ll let you go now, pero que sepas que eres bienvenida siempre que quieras” you smile, feeling how good of a mother Rio was. So you nod, waving at her as she walks away.

“Gracias, Rio. Y la comida está riquísima!” she giggles, waving back at you, finally disappearing from your view.

Soon you turned to the food again, now it was time for dessert, which made you get lost and only pay attention to the food. When you look up, you see that the sky has started changing. It was getting very late, so you let your parents know you were still shopping and soon, that’s when you realized you hadn’t seen Miles since he fought with his parents.

You start looking around, the music is still playing and the party is alive. You start moving around when you bump into someone. The person holds you steady with very little pressure, preventing you from tripping or so.

“Woah, sorry… wait, y/n?” A female voice asks, when you raise your gaze, you are shocked. There is Gwen.

“Do you know each other?” Miles asks behind Gwen.

You panic, you panic. So you do what you best do, to bolt.

“I need to go, you know my number, Miles. You can call me whenever you want”

“Wait, y/n…” Miles calls you but you are already gone.

Gwen reveals that you worked in the Spider Society. Miles was a bit angered with you for never reaching out to him. But Gwen also shared that you had been Spiderwoman for less than three months, that you had entered the society and she as your friend, failed you as the others too. And lastly, you had a tough story with Miguel O’Hara.

Miles understood you. And he followed Gwen after she left.

…

You are going back to your hotel with your parents when a hand pulls you to an alley, it is Gwen again. Now with her suit on.

“Oh my god, y/n, it’s you!” She takes off her mask and runs to hug you. And as much as you want to push her away, you hug her back.

“I missed you so much. We all miss you” She looks very excited to see you. And you want to say that you missed her too, but you’re proud and stubborn, so you don’t.

“Why are you here, Gwen? And why do you know Miles?”

“A lot has happened. I promise to tell you everything, but please come back. For now, there’s this anomaly that I need to catch” he shows you her gizmo, and the little hologram of a white creature with dark spots appears.

“That’s the villain Miles mentioned earlier”

“And how do you know him? You said you didn’t know who was the other spider man from this earth” you sigh.

“I met him like three hours ago”

“You need to come back. Miguel was checking daily to see if the temporary barrier you made was broken. You really really need to talk with him” Rolling your eyes, you hear her. But deep inside, you are dying to know everything, every little detail.

“Gwen, I won’t lie that it didn’t hurt me what happened. I felt betrayed. But now I’m happy with the life I have. Despite everything… I’m trying to move on” You don’t have the heart to tell her that you resent everyone a little, that you don’t need a gizmo to travel and save people from other dimensions. And you won’t tell her that as much as Miss Miguel, you won’t give him the satisfaction to go back.

“I’m begging you, y/n. We need you…” suddenly, the tiny hologram of Lyla appears and starts moving around you; smiling.

“OH MY GOD, Y/N!!!, YOU’RE HERE, MIGUEL IS GOING TO FREAK OUT… but don’t tell him I revealed that” You find the humor in her words, so you giggle.

“Hello, Lyla. I love your new glasses” she winks.

“Gee thanks, I also love your new hair”

“Yeah, it’s longer.” Gwen agrees with the AI.

“You’re coming with us, right?” Lyla asks, making you sigh.

“I will accompany Gwen to capture the anomaly, but I won’t go back to the HQ if that’s what you two are inquiring” you calmly say, walking beside a trash can to take your suit, perfectly folded inside your purse.

“You have to be kidding. Besides what happened with Miguel, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Penny, Noir, Jess and everyone misses you a great deal. You were a very popular spider, you know?”

“Yeah, Miguel is my problem. I deeply resent him and I’m not afraid to admit it” you reveal.

“I swear he wants you back. He has a lot to say to you, Would you come back just to… At least listen to him?… we have a life or death situation growing as the Spot is out there free” Lyla fires back. You shrug, not thinking clearly before slowly nodding.

There are so many things to think about, but you have already nodded.

“I-… I’ll go, but you have to let him know. I don’t want an awkward reunion” Gwen nods excitedly, and Lyla also nods.

“Great, I’ll tell him. Now go, Miguel won’t be happy with you Gwen” and then, the AI disappears.

Oh man, what have you agreed to?

…

To say you had the eyes of the whole world on you, was exaggerated. But at least the eyes of every single spider at the HQ, we’re looking at you.

Some stare, some greet you with enthusiasm and others offer confused smiles. When you arrived in Mumbattan with Gwen, Pavitr gave you a huge hug and didn’t let you go for many seconds. And when Hobie appeared, as the man of few words you knew he was, still shocked you with a long pat on the shoulder and admittedly said he missed you.

“This is so cool, I can’t believe you quit” Miles whispered to you. The teenager also appeared on Pavitr’s earth and you were highly impressed by his abilities.

“They kicked me out” you revealed, Miles looked surprised and Jess heard you, but you avoided her gaze. Back from Mumbattan to the HQ, Jessica rarely spoke to you. Instead, you spent the time with Miles, who had so many questions; and you wished you could just blurt out everything, but you wouldn’t.

“You don’t know the whole story, y/n,” Gwen said, joining the conversation.

“I think I pretty much know most of it. That’s enough…” while you didn’t pretend to sound so cold, you did.

“Please have patience with Miguel. But listen to him…” Jess also adds, you only eye her, but you don’t say anything else, you just nod.

It was at that moment that you realized how freaked out you were to meet Miguel again.

“For sure, Jessica. Just like he listened to me the last time I saw him” the woman looks down with remorse, but you don’t see it because you turn back at the way that Gwen leads.

Everyone can sense that while you are being respectful, there was bad blood running through every corner and step you were taking.

Miles thought you were very bright and sweet, but once you entered the portal and stepped inside the HQ of the Spider Society, your demeanor changed, showing you bitterly defensive and cold.

“Here we are…” Gwen says pushing a button that opens what you remember being Miguel’s office.

“I need a minute…” you say staying behind everyone. Only Hobie stayed beside you.

“You got this, Luv,” he says. And you love that words were not needed with Hobie, he completely understood you.

“If anything happens, you know where to stand, Hobie” he nods after entering the dark room.

You sigh, taking long breaths, mentally preparing for what is coming. It could end well, or badly.

And you had a bad feeling about it.

…

The bad feeling got worse.

Miguel couldn’t stop looking at you. He couldn’t hide the surprise on his face when he saw entering his office along with Peter B. Parker.

You can’t stand the man trying to shamelessly blame a fifteen-year-old. At some point, you know, it’s enough.

“Even if Miles hadn’t been bitten, earth-42 would have remained without a Spiderman. So don’t you dare to keep blaming him” Miguel turns, and you can see and feel he’s getting mad, but you don’t care. You couldn’t care less.

Maybe your heart cared, but your head was winning.

“It’s more complex than that, y/n.”

“Yeah, it worked out when you sent me home without telling me why” Lyla pops out around the shoulder of Miguel and looks worriedly between you and the broad man.

“Woah, Miguel, maybe you should tell her about that…” you frown, looking at the AI.

“Tell me what?”

“It doesn’t matter now, Lyla.” Your head wonders what could it mean, but you brush it away, so you turn again towards Miguel, looking at him with fury.

“I don’t need your stupid gizmo, I don’t need the Spider Society and I don’t need you, Miguel” you spit with anger and confidence, but everyone knows you actually need your friends, and that you are ignoring the feelings you had for Miguel.

“And look where your recklessness brought us. You are a threat and Miles is an anomaly”

“Most of the spiders here were recruited at their lowest points in life. You have manipulated everyone, admit it. You are forcing a narrative to achieve your assets.” His eyes shine bright with crimson anger. He wants to scream at you so bad, you know.

“Calm down, y/n… please” Jess tries to soothe the rising tension but it doesn’t work. When you look around, there’s already a lot of people, all ready to jump and attack in case of need.

“I will never stay quiet again. And to be a mother, Jess, neither you should” She lowers her gaze. You feel a little shame for her, as a grown woman who can’t seem to be able not listen to Miguel for once.

“You need to comprehend this isn’t entirely about you. This is about Miles and your constant travels causing a major disturbance in canon” Jess explains coldly, which makes you even more enraged.

“Yes, and we can save everyone. You don’t know how I’ve seen canon without the gizmo and the premonitory models” Your heart beats faster than ever, and you swear you are passing the edge of stability before collapsing into a panic attack.

“Not always we can save everyone” Peter B. Parker reminds you.

“Peter, please. Please understand me, out of everyone… I know you understand me” the man sighs, and you stare at her daughter. Peter knows it, he looks down at Mayday and knows you have a point.

“The Spot is going to destroy everything…” you almost whisper to one of your old closest friends. You have hope, that you’ll remind him. He looks at you deeply, before turning away, breaking your heart a little.

“I’m sorry, y/n. But you need to stay here” You feel Miguel’s giant hand on your shoulder, so you quickly turn, moving away, standing beside Miles. Miguel shows you he has no other intentions with his hands, he wants oh so desperately to make you understand his point, but he is blind to see or hear yours.

So in the blink of an eye, Miles and you have an obstructed view, reddish and glitchy. Both realize you have been caged, and stare at each other in panic.

Gwen and Peter jump to argue with Miguel, questioning why he had to do that.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” you whisper to Miles, who starts panicking. Hobie gets closer and you elbow Miles to see what he wants.

“Oi oi, Peter Pan. Use the hands…” you turn away, encountering Miguel, who also stares back at you.

“I hate you…” you spit with anger towards him.

“I never wanted any of this to happen, but It’s the best for our canons, only you could potentially destroy The Spot” you frown.

“Ours?…” he stays silent.

“Yes. And I’m sorry, kid” he adds, walking away with Gwen and Peter still at him complaining for caging you and Miles.

“Stop calling me that”

Your head spins, and you hear Jess, Hobie, Gwen, and Miguel speaking at the same time. But Miles has a plan, he gives you a quick look and you get it.

Smart boy.

So you nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

The electricity that envelopes his hands soon invades and infects the cage. The adrenaline keeps building up in your system. Your eyes slowly start to glow as you prepare for the impact.

Boom. The silence is scary.

Miles looks at you when you both are free from the cage.

It’ll be dangerous, very risky. But you got this

You look at how everyone starts moving after the impact. Your eyes lock with Miguel’s, and he knows you will follow the kid. And he can’t lose you again.

Don’t stop running, Miles” you tell him, he nods.

“MILES!, Y/N!” Miguel yells as soon he sees you bolt with the kid.

Time passes so fast, you don’t have time to breathe. You can’t hear what Gwen, Jess, Peter, and other spiders are trying to tell you to stay put.

“You need to hear, y/n” Peter yells. But you ignore them, and you keep running. Miles took his own route, and you realized many spiders were going after you and the teenager, you knew Miles had a plan.

“Y/n, please!” Gwen begs you, watching how you shoot a web to swing away.

As you slide through the buildings with your webs, your senses alert you. When you look back, as the wind messes with your hair and a few ones stick in your forehead, you get startled. Miguel is coming for you.

He looks incredibly intimidating, his pace is ridiculously faster than anything you have seen before.

“Shoot” you mumble before returning to keep running away. You spot Miles again, which makes you quicken your pace.

You can feel Miguel behind you, only increasing your heartbeats. There are so many things you wish you could say. So many things he could’ve done, but you remember he never loved you.

Jess can get by your side, she throws a sharp kick that you dodge successfully. But she doesn’t give up, she punches your ribs and you can tell she didn’t mean to actually hurt you, but she’s doing everything to stop you from running. Thankfully Miles gets in the way and is more than enough to give you the advantage.

Once you realize you are in an imaginary railroad that keeps going up and up, you fear the height, but seeing all the people you once considered family coming at you as if you were the biggest atomic danger, makes you want to go back in time. Being a Spiderwoman was a responsibility that you wished it never came.

“You have to stop!” You feel a hand grabbing you by the arm, and the next thing is your body getting stamped against the surface. You open your eyes to see Miguel, his mask disappears and you are only able to get a big breath under the strong gaze of his mahogany eyes.

“You won’t try to manhandle my life. You already did it once” you spit, trying to squirm away from his giant hand holding you still.

“There’s a reason…” he yells with desperation since Miles could break his webs at any second.

“WHAT IS IT THEN?” You yell back. You are tired of their secrets and claiming it was for the best but avoiding sharing the truth.

“Y/n…” Miguel is pleading, he is fighting so hard the urge to explode in anger. Just for you, he needs to keep it together.

“JUST SAY IT, MIGUEL!”

“I JUST CAN’T LOSE YOU AGAIN!” His forehead brushes yours and it weakens your heart. The physical contact is sudden but feels so right. You sigh, feeling his warmth.

You know what is right and what is wrong. You eye Miles who looks at you with fear. You will not deny you still love the man in front of you. So you embrace your free hand with his cheek. He melts into your touch, savoring the moment you lean forward, whispering into his ear.

“My feelings for you haven’t changed. But you never got me back, Miguel” you reveal, caging him with your most potent webs, putting on your mask, breaking free from his touch.

Miles nods at you, to which you only reply with a little smile. You will help him, you can feel it’s what is correct. And under a Quick Look at Miguel who seems shocked by your actions, you let yourself fall.

The prolonged free fall feels like you can breathe again, you have decided, not them. Perhaps you did not know what was that thing that everyone kept debating whether to tell you or not.

The Spiderman of 2099 doesn’t think twice. He immediately goes after you and the kid who almost deactivated his suit. Miguel is confident that he’s doing things right. He can’t risk losing more people. And he can’t risk a possible future with you. It sounded selfish, but Miguel swore to never break canon again, and it was demanding him to be happy with a partner, he couldn’t say no. Even if he was forcing it the wrong way.

Perhaps your heart still lounged to beat in the signature tune with Miguel. But one thing was for sure, you would help Miles. Even when you realized he was sent to earth-42, that you were back in New York of 1610, you would keep the promise of helping him. The Spot was about to danger everyone, but you had to try. You remember all the broken promises, the deceptions and you realize you have to keep going. Letting behind what your heart desired. Miles had to forge his own destiny, and in that way, you would forge yours too.

_____________________________

I’m so excited for my next Miguel writing. I’m mixing both option I gave in my last poll and it’s gonna be bff to lovers.

Two years ago I had a crash (I still can’t drive), last year I got The Eras Tour concert tickets and today I was notified that my associates degree has been posted.