The Princess of Stress

Both characters blame their issues on their parents while we don't get to see their parents' sides of the story.

Jax murdered his mom because she laughed at him, he claims there was emotional abuse, but he's an unreliable character and we never get any examples of this abuse besides his word. We don't even have a name or face for his parents. The entire finale is about him and we barely have his backstory, much like everyone else.

Melinda is more complicated because yes, we do see her parents, but their personalities change every single scene depending on whatever makes her more sympathetic in the moment. One moment they're trying to reach out to her and the next they won't listen to a word she says. There is no solid grasp of either of their characters because they're in the hivemind that all the other side characters are in (go figure it's also only her dad that gets a "redemption arc" near the end, while her mom is still considered a bitch).

Both stories do not have a plot structure.

TADC advertises itself as a character-driven show, but it is not. The characters after episode 4-5 have no drive or goals they're working to achieve, and the show is not interested in exploring anyone outside Jax. However, it is also not a plot show because what is the plot? Again, there is no goal. It's vaguely to escape the circus, but they don't work towards it. It is also not a lore show because the myseteries regarding C&A are set up in the last three episodes and aren't answered by the end. It's moreso a series of events focused on whatever will have the most shock or impact on the fandom. The fandom-bait writing style.

Speak has no plot. Nothing happens except in the first 10 pages, the rape scene, and then the last 20 pages, so a total of about 31 out of 200 pages have substance. The entire book is Melinda going between the same three locations and recounting her school days over and over and over again. This entire book is her complaining. I think the only thing she likes are donuts in one scene and cutting herself. And manipulating others. Like Digital Circus, there is a 50% chance the events will have an impact on the other characters. Melinda's skillset in paticular is all over the place. One scene she's a basketball prodigy and can beat all the other experienced girls without struggle (despite hating sports and not putting effort into physical activity), then it's never brought up again. One scene she says she is terrible at math, and the next she's being put into the honors group. Never gets brought up again because she complains her way out of it.

Both stories use symbolism in place of character devlopment.

Look at any of the promotion for the finale to Digital Circus, including the main promotional poster. It is filled with random objects and hands that have nothing to do with the episode or are meaningful to any of the characters. Jax's pink bow (other than being a 2000s anthro animal character design choice) is supposed to be a symbol for him being trans, but we don't see Jax explain having these feelings and all of the other characters still refer to him as "him", along with the merch still referring to Jax as such. Another example is the improvement in animation repeating the shot of Pomni looking in the mirror being seen as symbolism for her growth . . . that doesn't exist. She's still as reactionary as she was in the first episode and everything we know about her as a person can be summed up in a sentence. If anything, she regressed because she went from empathy towards everyone to empathy to just Jax. I also think back to this one tweet of Gooseworx's where she says she hid symbols all over her show and she's irritated nobody is noticing them. Symbolism is like cinnamon. It is really good when it is enhancing a dish that still tastes good without it (i.e The green light and glasses billboard in The Great Gatsby, I really need to read that book again). But if you have cinnamon by itself, it tastes horrible and is bad for you. You can't have a character arc be entirely reliant on the cinnamon because it needs substance. It's decoration for material that doesn't exist.

Speak is where my hatred of symbolism as a crutch actually originated from. This book is constantly shoving symbolism down the viewer's throat while patting itself on the back over how brilliant it is. Like Melinda being a 14-year-old written like an 8-year-old, this book wants to be deep while having metaphors a 4th grader could understand with no issue. The one most relevant here is her trees. Melinda brings up multiple times how she keeps drawing trees and it's supposed to be a symbol for her character growth and growth as a person that doesn't happen. She is equally as self-centered and negative as she was on the first page, but because she can draw trees with a lot of branches, that's supposed to make up for it because poetry or something. And they mention these trees like 15 times! I understood it the first time!

Both stories use mental health issues to be more mature, immaturely.

Abstraction. It's supposed to be a metaphor for insanity and suicide. It's treated as the worst tragedy that can happen to a person . . . until the final episode. The abstractions are still alive, and if Caine can be brought back with next to no struggle, I don't see why they can't be helped. Instead of helping the abstractions, or honoring their memories by building them their own personal memorials like Jax's, or learning their stories, or even just taking the scene seriously, all of the abstractions are thrown into the aquarium and treated as animals for the rest of the cast too ooh and ahh at. Don't think, buy the abstraction blind box instead. Have a figure of your favorite character on the brink of suicide for the low price of $14 a box! I am so disappointed they didn't release a tonedeaf t-shirt that said "Me on Mondays" with one of the cast members in the middle of abstracting.

For some odd reason, I learned Anderson loves writing poetic descriptions of self harm. It almost reads like My Immortal at some points. I've read the first 30 or so pages of her other book, Wintergirls, on the Google LIbrary and it's somehow almost worse, almost because I didn't finish it. (it also seems to do the same thing of giving another female sexual abuse victim a horrible ending for not suffering as bad as our "not like the other girls" main character.) Wintergirls is a how-to guide on how to give yourself an eating disorder and stick with it disguised as recovery because she only starts healing in the last 3 pages. Back to Speak, there are multiple times Melinda has poetic descriptions of cutting herself, stitching her mouth shut (get it because like- like it's symbolism because she doesn't want to talk and- and we're doing this at least 5 times so you get the message-), descripting her scars in an artsy fashion, and there's one specific drawn out scene i remember of her cutting her tongue/lips in art class with a clay tool and making a scene out of it. This is the book that's supposed to be a moral lesson on mental health and assault and it can't stop itself from making both into jokes or into something romantic and dreamy.

Both stories completely fumble their themes. All they do is provide lip service.

Digital Circus WANTS to be a existential horror. It WANTS to be this mature story where characters grow and change. It is SUPPOSED to be about finding meaning in a stagnant life, but it gave up on all of these themes after episode 2. Gummigoo's realization that he's an NPC is perfect for this. Then they had the best chance with introducing that all of the cast members are not real are just brain scans. Wouldn't that be horrifying? Finding out your dreams and attempts to escape this "prison" were all for nothing because you're just code and there's a real you living a life you can't see? It would be . . . if Digital Circus thought the same and didn't use it for a cheap happy ending where everyone is immeditaetly happy and decides to embrace the circus. When I think "finding meaning in a stagnant life", I picture someone in an office job they can't leave finding things to appreciate on their walk there. Art, seeing the same few people and forming connections, a bird that nests nearby, maybe volunteering in their free time and enjoying helping others, things like that. But even before the finale, this theme doesn't work because the point of the adventures is that everything is new and different. Stagnant is the last word you could use to describe the circus (or at least in concept, given how little this show takes advantage of its setting and so many adventures and important scenes take place off screen).

Speak is a book that understands rape is bad, it just doesn't understand why. It understands feminism is good, it just doesn't understand why. The moral of the story is supposed to be that people should be able to talk about their experiences without fear. Except . . . Melinda never actually speaks up about what happens to her. Well, she does once in the middle, then is ignored, then her "moment" is screaming at Heather, who I will get to, rather than Andy. Instead, Andy finds her in the last 5 pages, and she just gets really lucky because he conviently found her secret closet that was previously established to be so secret that not even jainitors knew it existed, then conviently the entire lacrosse team is walking right next to them despite the hallway being unused for the rest of the book, and they conviently have all of their sports equipment so they can heroically save Melinda and everyone conviently forgives her right away and claps for her doing nothing. So the moral of the book becomes, "If nobody sees you get attacked, then your life is going to be miserable forever." Speaking (no pun intended) of themes . . .

Both stories have a moral of "Stay with toxic people in your life because you're responsible for making sure they don't hurt themselves."

"We're all human." "We gotta stick together." All the characters are terrified of calling Jax out for his actions because they're scared of his threats of abstracting, and the narrative blames everyone for Jax hurting himself despite Jax himself never showing this kindness back, even on his deathbed. I just saw a post while looking for . . . this thing, because I was morbidly curious about the comments. An anon called out the fact that an abuser who is coddled by the narrative and has victims that get no justice is not complex was met with the response of "yes Jax is abusive but she does also have trauma and reasons for her behavior." I feel like once you write "This character is abusive, but-" you stop right there and think about it. I know it's a fandom response, but since the fandom and show are so intertwinned with TADC, I will count it, and it's that Jax's main defenses seem to be "He's traumatized, so if you hate him, you hate disabled people!"

Heather is a character I'd put into the genre of "Female character the audience is supposed to hate, but is actually way more interesting and sympathtic than the main character". She is the only character in the book I had sympathy for, the only character that has a character arc, and the only side character who isn't a two-dimesional cardboard cutout and has a defined personality. I wanted to give this girl a blanket, a hug, and a cupcake the whole book. Melinda treats Heather like garbage throughout the entire book. She puts her down every time she's happy over something, constantly complains about her, literally calls her "her accessory", and the first thing she does upon meeting Heather is mock her accent and braces. Around the middle point, Heather gets fed up with Melinda's constant negativity and says she doesn't want to be friends anymore. Yet the book frames it like Heather is just shallow and leaves only because Melinda has depression. She spoke her feelings politely and it is not her responsiblity to be Melinda's therapist, or more accurately, punching bag! Let's ignore all the emotional abuse and borderline dehumanization. Later in the book, there is another character named David who for lack of a better word, has been glazing Melinda the whole book. She has this really tonedeaf feminism speech for the purpose of wowing her professer and David slightly critiques this because as said, it's very tonedeaf and not what the assignment was supposed to be. Melinda gets furious and proceeds to ghost him the rest of the book and he's never mentioned again despite having so much focus on him before. That Heather scene is still the best in the book because it's the one time someone confidently puts their foot down and calls Melinda out on her crap.

Both stories use their side characters (mostly the women) as objects for their own devlopment while framing them negatively for having feelings of their own.

As stated before, Jax's victims are not allowed to hate their abuser. The two scenes I've mentioned in a comment before about this are Ragatha and Kinger's conversation and two times with Zooble and Gangle. Ragatha also has the scene talking about how horrible her mother is, and nobody cares. But when Jax talks about his past, everyone stops what they're doing to comfort him. When Gangle expresses being terrified of being hurt by Jax in the guns episode, Zooble tells her to "be the bigger person", basically to shut up. Then in the finale, when Gangle is watching Jax's abstraction get all of the care nobody in the show has given her despite being the victim, she cries. Zooble doesn't even question that her tears are related to Jax and pulls another "we're all human" line, pushing Gangle's feelings aside. And when a character doesn't bend over backwards to coddle Jax (Ribbit and Pomni), they're villianized despite being far kinder than he already deserved.

Also stated before, nobody is allowed to dislike Melinda or have a life outside of her. There's one scene near the end, where she's supposed to have her character devlopment by now, where she gets pissy with a sporty girl who was nothing but polite to her the whole book because the gym coach praises her skills instead of Melinda's. She's like a self-imposed Mary Sue. She thinks the whole world revolves around her and it partially does. Anyone who has their own struggles are villianized are mocked because they're "not as bad as hers". We find out later in the book that Andy has actually raped multiple girls (which this scene also doesn't make any sense given what we were shown before and basic logic, but what else is new) and . . . that's all. They don't get justice, there are no scenes with them, we do not get their stories or any connections between them and Melinda, the purpose of the scene is just to make Melinda feel good about herself. It's all about her. Andy's other victims don't even get names.

Both stories use extreme violence/hate against women while the men get off with minimal injuries/consequences.

Jax tortures people for his own amusement, brags about it, and the other characters bend over backwards to comfort him because "oh noes, he might hawm himswelf!". Caine tortures everyone for no reason and is forgiven at the end. Kinger is the one that caused them all to be trapped, caused all of their suffering in the first place, and nobody confronts him. Meanwhile, Ragatha, Gangle, Pomni, and Zooble are treated as irrational if they are ever upset about anything. The best comparison I have for this is the strangling scenes. In the first episode, Jax is strangled by Zooble and he stretches like a cartoon character for about 3 seconds. In the finale, Pomni is strangled by Jax for over ten. Her face is turning blue, we hear her choke and gasp and cry, the camera angle keeps cutting between her suffering and Jax's dialted (happy) pupils, it's drawn out for no reason, then she hugs and forgives him right after. And then there are all the scenes of Ragatha and Gangle being harmed for "slapstick".

At the end of Speak, is no punishment for Andy, the serial rapist, besides one line of prose explaining there will be a trial and that scene where he's beaten with the hockey sticks that fades to black before there's much detail. According to the Q&A on the back of the book, this is because Anderson wanted to "leave his fate up to interpretation". Sure . . . but then you had multiple paragraphs worth of Heather, the abuse victim, the grooming victim, the one constantly being taken advantage of, the one who was annoying and pushy but was so because she was terrified of being alone, being hated by everyone and Melinda wishing her the worst the next school year, which doesn't even do for Andy. I guess non-aesthetic party decorations (that Heather was forced and pressured to make) is a worse offense than repeated sexual violence.

Both stories rely on other media to make themselves more interesting, while misunderstanding the originals (other than the black stories mentioned at the beginning of this post)

I do not know what Evangelion is, I'm sorry. I know it's an anime and that's it. I'm going to focus on I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream instead. I compared these two already in my post regarding "The One Who's Running the Show", so I will just summarize what I said there. Caine is clearly based on AM and Jax is based off Ted, and Goose. Caine is written to be the opposite of AM throughout the book in that he wants to be human, doesn't understand how they work, but is constantly trying to understand them. That is until episode 8, where he starts torturing everyone for basically no reason because his adventures have been spoken out against the whole show and he was fine. AM using physical torture to get what he wants makes sense because he's a war machine and programmed to kill. Caine doesn't make sense other than being a reference to AM because he's created to entertain people. And then there's Jax who is based off Ted's role of being the rude one who becomes the most selfless and greatest hero by sacrificing himself to save the others trapped by AM. Except Jax does the opposite in which yes, he's rude, but he never has his savior moment as he traps everyone in the circus because he feels like it. He never helps the others and instead abstracts and dies before he can help anyone or even try to make things right. Honestly, Digital Circus has so many references throughout it that it makes you question if anything was original.

Speak is inspired by "Heathers". I have not seen the movie, so I may be wrong, but it is one of my favorite musicals. I talked about Heather already, but I didn't talk much about the Marthas, the group of girls who emotionally manipulate and pressure Heather, later leading to her eating disorder that Melinda shames her for. The joke is that the role of "Heather" and "Martha" are flipped around. Speak seems to think the problem is that the Heathers and Veronica like fashion and want to be popular, emphasis on the last point given how many times Melinda talks about how shallow that is and she's so much better than the other girls for liking the color black and wearing ratty t-shirts all the time. Not . . . you know, the murders and mistreatment of others. It touches on the mistreatment briefly, but only to show how Heather suffering is burderning Melinda. It also tries to go for that story's dark comedy, but goodness gracious this book is so unfunny. Melinda's entire sense of humor is pointing at a garbage can and going, "Me". Or it's racism, sexism, ableism, or some other form of harassment, pick your poison.

I was going to write another point about how neither character is given consequences for their actions and the narrative instead rewards their behavior and encourages them to stay the same, and that both are given multiple chances to recieve help but throw tantrums every time, only to turn around and insist they are alone, but that blended in with too many established points. I think everyone gets the idea.

Emotions were fragile.

Anything could cause them to rise or shatter, turn from joy to hatred. Sometimes it was a positive happy memory with friends. Time passed and you realized something wasn’t right, making a moment of laughter a moment of bitterness.

In other, non-related news, Dream was practicing archery in the backyard.

The fresh air was pleasant on his bones. He set up targets that varied in distance, trying to hit each with different methods. Jumping, flipping, dodging, all of the usual attacks. Usually, he was quick and nimble, but he kept tripping over his own boots and stumbling into the grass. It took too much effort to perform jumps too. He had failed to perform well in battle all month. Eight different attacks from Nightmare and Dream couldn’t overpower any of them.

He tried, he tried so hard. He fired arrows, took countless hits to protect innocents as they ran for cover. But it was never enough. Nightmare was always too strong and five steps ahead of him. Ink needed to grab him and carry him out of the fight every time his body was too battered to continue. It was such a burden to put on him and Blue. It was Dream’s job to take care of everyone else, he would never dare face the other way around. He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong. He only noticed now that his firing was more aggressive than he liked. The next arrow he shot steamed with so much energy that it left a burnt hole in the middle of the target. Dream sighed and leaned on his bow the same way Ink would lie his head on Broomie.

For the good of the multiverse, he must snap himself out of this stupor. He was born to protect others, to be their beacon of hope and positivity. If he stayed so negative and tired, everyone else would be doomed to follow, and it would be his fault if they were hurt-

“Dream! Dream, Nightmare’s attacking Glitchshift! Ink needs backup!” A voice, Blue’s called from below the hill. Dream dug his finger tips into the wood of the bow, then realized what he was doing and apologized to his mother. He didn’t mean to damage her branches.

“Coming . . .” Dream called back with a sigh. He started walking down the hill. He started mumbling to himself again.

As Dream made it down the hill to Blue’s anxious side, he caught his emotions. Bless his mortal heart. Blue set his hand on Dream’s shoulder as he started storming towards the portal Blue came out of. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Of course. Let’s go.”

Blue grabbed his shoulder. “You don’t have to go if you’re that tired. I’ll tell Ink you need a break-”

“No- no it’s fine. It’s our job to protect people. They’re in trouble and something may happen to Ink if I don’t help him. Nightmare can’t know I’m not feeling well.”

“You say that every time,” Blue said.

Dream paused, then nodded, irritation in his tone. His hand drifted towards his chest, then he pulled out his soul. The golden apple still shone with a bright yellow, but it was dim, failing to glow as it should. Dream returned it to his chest.

“I know. I promise, starting tonight, I’ll start working on myself. Ink’s in danger, we can’t waste any more time.”

Blue didn’t press him any harder, though his concerned expression told Dream he wanted to. He stepped aside to let Dream through. The two skeletons entered the portal with Dream only bothering with a brisk jog.

Dream kept his eyes closed as he immediately blocked off a bone attack from Dust with a golden shield. He loaded his bow and shot Dust, who stood about twenty feet away. The hooded skeleton fired his pistol and destroyed Dream’s arrow. He summoned a massive bone under himself and used it as a platform to shoot himself high into the air. Dream’s eye sockets widened and he sprinted away as Dust fired back towards him like a meteor. Blue leapt into the fight and smashed him away with his hammer. Dream took the chance to run ahead and find Ink.

It didn’t take long. Ink kicked spears made from Broomie’s paint at Horror and Nightmare. Horror made a shield out of bones. All but one spear pinned themselves into the bones. Ink made snappy comments at Nightmare’s appearance, but Dream didn’t pay attention. It was all just . . . routine. What more was there to say that hasn’t been said already?

Whatever Ink’s words were, they caused Nightmare to go on a rampage. Ink gulped and ran towards a mass of dark purple waterfall cliffs. He stood on the edge of one with his tiptoes, holding Broomie high in the air to balance himself. Nightmare melted himself down to an incomprehensible pile of sludge to chase. One of his tendrils shot forward to capture Ink. Ink panicked as he fumbled with his paintbrush. Dream saw it as his chance and fired an arrow at Nightmare’s tendril.

Only to trip, miss, and send the arrow soaring over both their heads.

Nightmare’s tendril paused mid-air, shocked at the sight of the dim flickering arrow. He turned towards Dream and started to snicker. “Aw, is someone sleepy, brother? Poor thing. You shouldn’t have arrived to battle.”

“I am FINE.” Dream huffed. He loaded another arrow and shot, but Nightmare caught it with ease. He took a long look at how dim the light was. It was failing to even burn his tendril. Dream’s cheekbones burned with embarrassment.

“Mm, I’m afraid I disagree.” Nightmare snapped his arrow into two. Ink snuck up behind him and smashed Broomie over his head, which Nightmare swiftly dodged. Ink tripped over a bump Nightmare made with his sludge. He wrapped a tendril tightly around the artist, but Ink took advantage of the liquid. He slid into Nightmare’s tendril, catching the Guardian of Negativity off guard as a large mass carved through his chest and broke out through his upper left tendril. Eight feet off the ground, Ink flipped down and landed in front of Dream. Dream reloaded his bow as Ink snapped at him.

“Dream! How about you go help people since you’re not helping me?” Ink’s eye lights went red at Nightmare. Horror, who had been hiding without a sound in the bushes, threw his ax at Ink, which he barely dodged from slicing his waist into two. “Killer is causing a massacre out there!”

“Are you sure? Blue had to-”

“Yeah! Now get out of here!”

“I think that’s a wise idea, brother. Don’t worry. While you’re struggling, I will be very gentle with your friend.” Nightmare brushed off his tendril, flicking it like there were flecks of dust. “As if he needs it.”

Dream’s heart hurt, but he knew he wasn’t wrong. Dream snapped his fingers and teleported out of the battle. Killer’s aura was always difficult to locate due to his lack of emotions, but he could feel the distress from the citizens of the AU.

This AU’s Hotland was a wreckage of bloody bodies and negative emotions. Again, it was nothing Dream hadn’t already seen before. Monsters ran around the hot, orange, and rocky terrain and screamed as they were impaled by bones.

Killer sat on a massive metal storage bin, bodies piled around him. He crossed his legs and balanced a severed head on his left one, carefully chipping away scraps of flesh and muscle with his knife. As soon as he saw Dream’s arrow fire towards him, missing once more, he snapped his head up. His legs dangled off the edge of the metal as he leaned back, glaring down at the guardian. “What took ya so long, sunshine? I wiped out this whole area and not one of you Stars showed up to stop me. I thought you were braver than that.”

Dream groaned as Killer teleported down and slashed at him with his knife. Dream formed a shield around himself, blocking the worst of the slashes from his bones. It was a full thirty seconds of attacks, cracking the edges of his magic and causing his eye lights to shrink into pinpricks. Then Killer turned bored. He rolled his eye lights, or would’ve if he had them. He snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Dream didn’t put his shield down, expecting another large attack, until he started to feel weak. He shivered as his shield collapsed. He leaned down to rest his hands on his knees and groaned. “Killer? Show yourself! Please, I’m too tired for-”

“Heads up, Dreamy!” Killer kicked one of the dead bodies right into Dream’s face. The weight of the monster knocked him off balance.

Dream gasped in horror and frantically spat out the blood, flayed skin, and flesh from his mouth. Something stung his tongue that wasn’t the blood. Magic. His soul began to burn as it built with strength. Dream licked the side of non-existent lips and that blood had the same effect. It felt like he swallowed a small handful of popping candy.

Killer blinked, then broke into a snicker. “What are you doing? Do you like the taste, weirdo?”

Dream stared down where his soul would be in his chest, then he looked back up at Killer. His eye lights glowed a brighter gold as he charged at Killer. The attack caught him off guard as Dream split his bow into two swords and slashed at his sleeves. Killer bounced back and summoned a Gaster Blaster, then a ring of them. They fired at Dream all at once, swirling in a ring. Dream jumped up and created a golden platform to balance on.

Interest piqued in Killer’s aura as he tilted his head with a slow smile. He kicked his leg back and crossed it behind the other, holding his arms out. His voice held a mocking falsetto. “You’re finally giving me a challenge! Go on, do your worst, pacifist!”

Dream stared down at him, but then his soul itched with magic. Killer couldn’t be that collected, could he? Although he supposed he had a point in which his previous performances gave the murderer nothing to fear. Dream charged up all of his positive magic into one gold and white beam, blinding white against the dark rocks. Listening to Killer’s obnoxious mocking humming, he beam fired straight into his soul. Killer’s eye sockets snapped open and he screamed, falling to his knees as his white eye lights flickered in and out of existence. His target soul shifted back into a heart. Dream pulled his hands back, considering whether or not to go and help him, until the AU turned ten degrees colder. He prepared his weapons for a fight with Nightmare, but he never arrived. Instead, a mass of black sludge took over Killer’s body and melted him into the ground. Dream waited still. The thick layer of negativity lifted from the AU and the Hotland began to warm up again. It was safe. Quiet. Too quiet without Killer’s snappy insults.

“Sweet birchwood . . .” Dream mumbled to himself. He sat down on the warm rocks to catch his breath, though his eye lights drifted towards the body he licked the blood off. How did he never consider taking the emotions of others through their blood?

Oh, wasn’t it obvious? It was cruel, immoral, harmful, and this person had to have had a family and a life. He couldn’t take advantage of whoever was on their deathbed, and he shouldn’t take advantage of others in general!

But . . . something in him wanted to try one more bite. He needed to know more, just in case he needed that magic ever again. The guardian scooted over to the body.

His hand hovered over the monster body. Dream cautiously brought the arm up to his mouth, then he bit into it. The taste of metal and raw meat filled his mouth. Another burst of positivity came not long after, stronger than before. He absorbed all the emotions of the monster. The final moments were of terror, but they also had hope left inside them. That hope turned into energy for Dream. The magic flowed through his veins, giving his bones a glowing gold color. He couldn’t control his shaking. It had been months since he had this kind of energy. He took another bite, then another. He didn’t even like the metallic taste of the flesh, but the positivity found in the blood tasted like heaven. Then he focused on the deep red blood that covered his hands.

“Stars above, what have I done?” Dream whispered to himself, covering his mouth after seeing how he reached bone. Dream panicked and quickly covered the body up in rocks. He used another handful to clean the dribbles of blood from his face.

But even with that horror, he couldn’t deny how good he felt. The positivity surged through his blood like adrenaline after a morning run.

He heard Ink’s loud voice talking a distance away, along with Blue’s checking up on survivors. Dream breathed in and out several times to steady his emotions. After one more check that he had no evidence of the crime on him, Dream ran back through the AU, teleporting through some spots. It felt nice to be able to freely use magic for the first time in weeks without being exhausted.

“-and that’s how I created a pipe bomb out of nothing but bad acrylics!” Ink exclaimed, in the middle of talking to a small group of monster children. He turned around once he heard Dream panting. “And there he is. That took you long enough! Nightmare said something about a disturbance in the balance and he dropped me from where he was strangling me. Thanks, I didn’t feel like being choked today. But do I ever feel like being-"

“That was Killer’s soul. I’m sorry for being so late. There was-” Dream realized he didn’t think of a cover story. He wasn’t used to lying about anything more than his personal emotions. “There . . . there was a bird injured and I was healing it. A little Eldin ostrich.”

“Aw, of course you’re being that sappy over a non-sentient scrap of code.” Ink snickered. He paused and blinked, left eye light turning into a blue question mark as he looked over Dream. “Your eye lights are really bright, you know? I didn’t want to say anything because you seemed miserable enough, but you’ve been down the last few days! Or weeks? Months? I’m not paying that much attention to you, you know me. You’re getting your magic back?”

Dream laughed quietly. Ink suspected nothing. Dream hugged him and said, “I am. I . . . I’m feeling a lot better, but I think I also want some sleep. Let’s go home, okay?”

=====================================================================

The Guardian of Positivity covered the sides of his skull with his pillow. Despite his natural warmth, he felt sick and shivered like he had the flu. He ate someone. An innocent person, a victim of Nightmare’s team. He was a monster. What if someone found out? What if Ink or Blue found out? What if everyone he loved left him? What if they turned him into a battery for positivity like they did in the village so he wouldn’t hurt anyone?

A frantic knock banged at his door. Dream didn’t remember screaming, but he heard it, then the door opened. Footsteps ran toward him, grabbing his shoulders. “Dream! What’s wrong?”

Hearing Blue’s voice relaxed him, at least a bit. Dream cleared his throat, trying to wave off the shaking. “Um . . . I had a nightmare.”

“A nightmare? What happened? Was it that bad? The shield started to break outside!” Blue gestured out the window. Dream stood up to look outside. He kept a golden magic shield around their base to protect the Stars from negative enemies. It also gave Blue and Ink good dreams when it was working correctly. At the moment, it glitched in and out of existence. Dream flicked his wrist and it restored, along with his emotions.

“I’m sorry.” Dream collapsed back down onto his bed, heaving for air. Once he steadied himself, he sat back up and rested his skull on one of his hands. “Blue . . . what would you do if you did something horrible to someone? You had no choice but to do this thing, but it was still wrong.”

Blue raised a browbone, not expecting such a desperate request. He had to think on it as he sat down beside him. “Whatever you did, I know it wasn’t that bad. You’re the Guardian of Positivity! The greatest hero in the multiverse! And you’re my best friend. Just apologize to those you hurt, and they’ll forgive you. I promise.”

Dream glanced up at Blue, smiling softly. Right, he was overreacting. He didn’t kill anyone; they were already dead. It wasn’t that different than eating a piece of beef or pork. There were cow and pig monsters in the multiverse, along with sheep, chickens, goats, and other edible animals. As a child, Nightmare taught him to hunt rabbits while there were rabbit monsters in the village.

“They’ll forgive me . . . thank you, Blue. I’m sorry again for startling you. I’m just not used to . . . doing things like this. I’ll put the shield back up.”

Blue pat his shoulder, although his massive hand made it more of a smack. “Don’t you worry about it. Get some sleep and you’ll feel a lot better! I’ll be sure you don’t have to do any fighting tomorrow!”

“I will. Thank you again.” Dream smiled. He hugged Blue one more time to reassure himself, then he left. Dream lay down on the bed and closed his eye sockets. It was just one time and he’d feel better in the morning.

=====================================================================

A week later, their next group mission was against Error. The AU already had rips torn across the fabric of their reality. Massive white gaps tore across their towns and Waterfall. Ink busied himself painting stitches over the gaps to keep everything together and dodging Error’s Gaster Blasters.

Dream and Blue busied themselves with helping the people evacuate. Blue broke into buildings that began to glitch and vibrate from Error’s magic. He wrapped his giant arms around the innocents and jumped out of the windows to escape. Dream focused on the ground levels since he hadn’t learned his lesson on sleeping in, and was still less coordinated than he would’ve liked.

As Ink and Error battled, Error strung up citizens to use as puppets. He used his strings to force them to use their powers against Ink. The artist flipped, kicked, and jumped through puddles to avoid their attacks and cut them free with painted scissors. However, when Ink prepared to cut a small dog monster free, Error pulled his hand back, causing the monster’s puppet strings to pounce forward. Ink missed and accidentally stabbed the blades of the scissors through his chest. Ink groaned and punted the now lifeless body towards the shoe business right next to Dream.

The smell of blood caught the Guardian of Positivity’s attention as he looked at the bloody splatter mark left on the building, and the body below it. Saliva built up in his mouth and he quickly wiped it aside. Taking the body by the armor collar, he ducked into the shadowed areas so he wouldn’t be seen by Blue, or anyone else. He covered his mouth to force himself to stop, but his nonexistent stomach began to growl.

No, no, no, no- he was NOT doing that again.

But the blood burned his tongue. His soul throbbed in his chest. It felt like it was eating its own outer apple flesh. Dream balled his hands into fists and pressed the bottom of his palms against his forehead, then he picked up the monster’s leg and took a large tear out of the flesh, like a chicken wing. He hid himself in an alley as he swallowed and lapped up the blood, feeling his soul slowly grow stronger with power. The relief this monster had, before it turned into fear, tasted so good.

He built up so much magic that sparks burst out of his fingers. Dream was careful to avoid too much blood around his mouth, but it was still visible on his glove. It wasn’t in his field of magic, but Dream quickly whispered a water spell to form the liquid in his hand, washing off his gloves. It made his soul tingle, and he almost wondered if part of it was the fact that he was washing away power. He couldn’t draw on it long as Gaster Blasters and magic fired in the distance. Dream ran back into battle.

Error fought Ink and Blue at the same time. Each time Ink threw paint bombs and dolls made of rainbow acrylics and crayons, Error would glitch them out of existence. Each time Blue tried to verbally reason with Error, or knock him off balance with his hammer, Error fired bones to tear into his armor. He was still gentler with Blue than he was with Ink, who he didn’t mind treating like a ragdoll.

Dream teleported himself to the top of one of the office buildings. He summoned his bow and loaded an arrow. He waited until Error had his back turned to attack Blue, then he fired his bow. A highly powered arrow embedded itself right in the middle of Error’s ribcage, where his heart would be if he had one. With a horrid scream and his body being consumed with glitches and gold light, Error glared up at him.

“YOU ASSHOLE!” he howled. Error pulled the arrow out of his chest, dropping it like a hot iron as it burnt his hand. “I don’t need to deal with this. I can kill these anomalies later . . . screw you, Ink!”

Blue and Ink were just as shocked as Dream was as Error left. Dream realized it was probably the first time in a long while they had seen him hold that much power to not only aim correctly, but take an enemy down in one hit. Ink whistled at Dream as he jumped down from the building. “Damn! I haven’t seen you THAT strong since . . . uh . . . I forgot. But that was awesome!”

Blue followed with a second high five and then leaned in close while Ink mumbled to himself about their previous battles. “Are you getting enough sleep now?”

Dream gave him an awkward smile, knowing that body was still in the alley and he didn’t even think of checking if he had blood on his teeth. Luckily, from both of their expressions, that didn’t seem to be the case. “Mm-hm. I listened to what you said. You were right, all I needed was to calm down and . . . let myself loose. Thank you.”

“Mweh! I’m always right about these problems! And now you get more rest since the AU is safe!” Blue walked up to join Ink.

“Wait, I’ll catch up! I’m going to see if there is anyone who was left behind!” Dream hated the empty pit that formed in his ribcage, although it wasn’t only from guilt. His voice was so happy as he waved his friends goodbye. Blue looked worried, Ink looked confused, but they let him go. He wiped a dribble of drool off his chin, waiting until their portal shut, then dashed off.

Dream used his powers to sense people who were on or potentially on their deathbed. Despair, sorrow, acceptance, any of those emotions worked as ones to follow. He didn’t like the thrill that replaced his nausea with the negative ones, but he almost . . . could make himself not care.

Each body he came across was, unfortunately, a monster. As soon as Dream picked one, they’d dust. They weren’t cursed like Killer’s bodies to keep them preserved from dusting. He attempted to use the spell, but it was one he was unfamiliar with. He was constantly too slow.

Anger and aggression built up in his chest. Someone had to have not yet dusted. He was starving. He just saved everyone. A thank you in the form of restoring his power after using so much didn’t seem like too much to ask for. Stars above, why was he thinking so rudely? He shook his head, waving awkwardly at a few surviving monsters cleaning up the bodies. He wasn’t used to the look they gave, the one of confusion and . . . they were only scared because they almost lost their AU. They weren’t scared of Dream. No.

After a few minutes more of searching, Dream found his victim- no. Prey- that was worse. His power supply. There. He assumed this man tried to run away from the destruction, but his plan to hide failed. Nobody was around the secluded corn fields. Each stalk passed the top of his head as they reached for the skies above. Those same skies were looking down at him, judging him, as he drooled and lunged at the body, blood smearing the corn stalks around them.

The regret settled in quickly.

=====================================================================

Dream started to pray for Nightmare or Error to attack AUs. As long as they were the ones mutilating and killing people, it didn’t matter what Dream would do after, right? They were already dead. He wasn’t eating the bodies out of his own pleasure. It was to protect people. Their sacrifices are for the greater good of giving him power.

Hiding his secret was much easier than expected. He did the same thing over and over. Move the bodies of the deceased to a ‘burial ground’, help the survivors, drink the blood and feed off the dead’s positivity, and then devour his meal in secret. Sometimes meals, plural. The guardian even bought separate clothes to keep from staining his normal hero clothes. He kept them hidden under his bed and used magic to create portals and snatch them. Along with this

But after about a month of this, his non-existent stomach began to gnaw even outside battle. Ink commented one night about how many burgers he ate, which was unlike him, given his appetite and manners of a princess. Blue always made extra food during the beginning of the week so they wouldn’t have to worry about cooking after exhausting missions. Even if Ink and Dream could go longer periods of time without food than their mortal friend, he still insisted they eat regularly. They didn’t have any weekly meal preps that night. Blue spoke of concern, but Dream brushed him aside.

Dream lay in bed sick afterward; he ate more red meat that night than he did for an entire year, but the emptiness inside him didn’t go away. It ached through the night. The shield outside the Star Sans base flickered as his eye sockets remained wide awake and his negativity wouldn’t decrease. He inhaled and forced his eye sockets shut, trying to think positive thoughts.

His negative emotions were only going to hurt everyone. What if Ink and Blue woke up because of it? It would be so much more difficult to explain. Blue was on to him. He was going to find out. Dream tended to read when he couldn’t sleep, as he did when he was a child, but he didn’t feel like doing that either. Maybe a walk was in place.

Dream, stumbling from his body wanting to sleep, slipped on his fluffy yellow coat and walked out the front door. Ink and Blue wouldn’t suspect anything as they were used to him waking up very early in the morning to be outdoors, or to investigate emotion spikes somewhere in the multiverse. Ink had a tendency to slip out of the clubhouse to . . . whatever he did. He was either very secretive, forgot what he did, or both.

The fresh air usually cleared Dream’s head. He wasn’t afraid of walking around at night since he spent the first eleven years of his life sleeping outside. He knew the cobblestone path by heart, even if he couldn’t see it. He ended up walking into the main town of the Omega Timeline.

Even when people were asleep, Dream could still feel their emotions. He ended up wandering towards a townhome. Someone inside it was having good dreams. It wouldn’t hurt to use them as a battery for a few moments, right?

Dream, still partially asleep, tried to open the front door. It was locked. Dream pulled and shook the knob, irritation boiling up in his chest. He pulled the door handle down and shattered it off the door. Dream felt horrible and wanted to bolt, but his mouth started to froth and his soul ached. He slipped inside the house and walked slowly so as to not cause a stir. They had no dog to guard the premises.

The scent was strongest upstairs. Dream stalked up the steps, body vibrating with each one. He pushed open a stained oak door and looked around a bedroom. It didn’t take long at all to spot the Snowdrake sleeping under a cooling blanket. The room was covered in memorabilia of comedy movies and stand-up shows. Posters, figures, trading cards, ticket stubs, and other collectibles that Dream didn’t understand the appeal of. The window was left open with a cold breeze blowing in, making Dream curse himself for not checking if there were open windows before breaking down the door.

Dream shut the door behind him. He wiped his mouth and approached the monster. Within the next second, he lunged at Snowdrake’s throat. The bird monster woke up and began to screech as Dream tore off the flesh of his neck with his teeth. One hand clamped down on the bird’s beak so he wouldn’t call out for the others in the home.

Snowdrake kicked. Dream slashed. He swallowed a massive piece of feathered skin and muscle. He finally managed to pierce an artery, pooling blood all over the bed. Dream lapped it up, shaking from all the positive energy. Unlike the burgers, the blood satiated him. Once he bit down on Snowdrake’s heart and started to eat the organ, he realized he had gone farther than he had with any of his other victims. But he couldn’t stop now.

The scene turned into a blur. Dream lost track of time as he ached to replenish his power and hunger. By the time he was finished, all that remained of Snowdrake were bones covered in blood. Staring into the empty eye sockets of his skull, Dream felt . . . nothing. Almost nothing. The positivity made him dizzy and feel strong enough to take out Nightmare and his entire team. That- that must be enough for now. Nightmare would have to notice the increase in positivity and attack another AU! Then the Stars would have to help, and people have to die, and he could replenish his power and hunger once again!

Dream covered his mouth as his teeth ached. He curled up on the floor, shaking and suppressing coughs. He coughed up blood and feathers. His canines cracked and began to elongate, burning and sharpening as they tore through his mouth. He had to force himself not to scream. Quickly, he opened his code box. His LV was at nineteen. He hadn’t been eating that many people, had he? Had he? LV was horrible for anyone, especially monsters, especially powerful beings like him that needed to keep their magic untainted-

Dream’s finger tips split into sharp claws, forcing him to bite down on the fabric of his glove so he wouldn’t dare shout. He knew he would never recover from this. Everyone would see him as just as his old village did, for good reason this time. He was too much of a threat to be anything but a battery. He had to hide.

Using his teeth, Dream grabbed the body of the Snowdrake. He remained on all fours as he used a mix of magic and crawling to escape out the window. His teeth and fingers still ached with pure agony and his mind blurred, everything going dark.

=====================================================================

Ink was a heavy sleeper, always has been and always will be. So he didn’t think much of it when he woke up at noon and Dream was nowhere to be seen. That guy liked his long walks in the morning and singing with the birds.

He got dressed and walked downstairs, stretching with Broomie in his outstretched hand. Opening his left eye socket, he caught Blue looking out the window. “Morning, Blue! What’s up? You alright?”

Blue turned to Ink with worry in his eye lights. The larger skeleton pointed at the door. “The door was open and I haven’t seen Dream all day!”

“So? He usually goes out on weekends.”

“But not with the door unlocked! And haven’t you noticed he’s been weird lately?”

“Eating like he’s in a contest for five thousand gold? Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything? You don’t think he’s got like . . . a tapeworm, do you?”

“No- well, not that exactly. But you might be onto something! He has signs! He’s constantly eating, he’s always tired, he keeps disappearing on missions, and then when he comes back, there’s been three times where he’s come back with stains around his mouth, and he said his powers are weak! Ink, do you think Dream has an eating disorder?”

Ink blinked, then he laughed. How else was he supposed to handle emotions like this? He hasn’t drank his purple vial in a few days. “I said the tapeworm thing as a joke! But if you think it’s that bad, I mean, it’s Dream. I guess he’s insecure, but he’s more of the ‘overworking until I pass out and giving everything to others’ kind of self-destructive . . .” Ink looked back at the door. It was weird of Dream to keep it open and very out of character; he would’ve been breaking his script if he were an in-code. “Okay, let’s go find him.”

Ink and Blue left the clubhouse and began to search around. Dream left no trail. Ink checked the backyard in case Dream passed out in one of the trees. Nope. Some of the birds he usually talked to flew around the trees and little chipmunks and rodents scurried across the ground. Were those the ones Dream tended to talk to? Not that he meant to be racist towards them, but they all looked the same.

Ink kept searching between trees, bushes, and even ran as far as the river bed about two minutes walk from the club house. Still, no guardian in sight. He groaned and returned home. How couldn’t he even feel Dream’s aura? It was so positive that it could overpower his vials!

Blue teleported back to the Star Sanses base. Before Ink could say anything, Blue shook his head, worry so strong in his eye lights that he didn’t need to be good with emotions to see it.

“Any sign of him?”

“No . . .” Blue mumbled, looking away. Ink followed his gaze, expecting him to have a plan forming in his head. Once he realized Blue only zoned out, he stepped away and began to pace. Ink tended to think better when his body matched his hyper active mind. Without thinking about it, Ink toyed with his vials, popping the caps on and off his different colored paints. Then he paused, looked down at how much of each color he had, and gasped.

“Hold on, I got it! I’ve got the perfect way to find him,” Ink exclaimed. He took the yellow vial out of his sash and drank the entire thing. It only took a few seconds for it to kick in and Ink’s eye lights flashed into yellow stars.

“Dream! Come on, I’m like a positivity battery for you!” Ink spun around and shouted.

The two Stars waited a minute, first assuming nothing would happen. Blue spotted the two golden eye lights first. They stared at him through the trees surrounding their clubhouse. Ink’s left eye light flickered into a green question mark. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong-

Before Ink could finish his thought, Dream pounced on him, growling like a tiger. Ink knocked backwards as Dream’s sharpened fingers tightened around his neck. Blue snapped into action and summoned his hammer, bashing Dream off Ink’s body and sending him tumbling to the ground.

“Sweet mother of the Creators, what the HECK is that?” Ink exclaimed, brushing off his pants. Dream got right back to his feet. Or tried to. He was hunched over, almost looking like he was on all fours. His eye lights were tiny yellow pinpricks and two massive fangs jutted out of his jaw. All his other teeth were sharper than a skeleton’s should’ve been. His spine bulged from the back of his tunic. His fingers sharpened into claws. His cape and face were painted with blood. Some of it was brown and some was bright red.

“I don’t know! Dream, what happened to you?” Blue asked. He jumped in front of Ink. “Did Nightmare do something?”

Dream didn’t answer and stayed growling. Ink didn’t know if he even could say anything while he was like this. He whispered to Blue as one of his eye lights blinked into a blue light bulb. “Y’know, maybe getting Nightmare isn’t a bad idea.”

Blue looked at Ink like he was insane. “Nightmare? I mean . . . I guess he’s his twin, but what if he’s going to make it worse? We could be hurting EVERYONE!”

“Do you got any better ideas? If positivity makes Dream stronger, then negativity will calm him down. I’ll hold him off, you get Nightmare, and we figure out what’s wrong with him! Deal? Plan? Too bad, no time to talk!”

Ink drew a portal on the ground with Broomie and kicked Blue into it. Before Blue landed on the dark grass in front of Nightmare’s castle, he watched his two best friends tackle each other, not a glimmer of recognition in Dream’s eye lights.

=======================================================================

Nightmare was spending the day doing paperwork, contracts and supply shipments from allied AUs, when Killer slammed his door open. He was about to scold him for entering without permission, but then he saw Blue. Killer held the muscular skeleton by the scruff like a kitten. Topped with Blue’s extreme panic, worry, and negativity. It amused him.

“Boss! I found Blueberry outside the front gate. He was trying to break in.” Killer tossed him forward. Blue fell to his hands and knees, heaving and shaking. “What should I do with him?

“Killer, wait a moment.” The genuine fear in Blue’s aura caught Nightmare’s attention. He leaned forward, tendrils swaying behind him. “You’re stressed, mortal. Tell me, what happened? Why and how have you come alone?”

Blue looked at him with wide eyes. “It’s Dream! He’s eating people! Do something about your brother because we can’t! He attacked Ink after he drank all of his yellow vial! Ink used Broomie to make me a portal and that’s how I’m here! Help us just this once!”

Nightmare went from intrigued to fully focused. He stood up. He melted onto the floor and reappeared towering over Blue. None of his facial features were visible other than his distorted teal eye. “And here I believed Horror was the only one whose brain fails to work. Which AU were you in?”

“The Omega Timeline.” Blue’s voice cracked, though he hid it under a confident expression. “If you hurt anyone there, I- I won’t hesitate to destroy you myself!”

Killer, who had been looking between the two of them during their conversation, cleared his throat. “So am I going with?”

“Hm, I don’t see why not. I will make the portal. Blue, you tell me where to go. Don’t fret, I will leave your base alone. If you’re being honest and this isn’t a trap.”

Nightmare could tell Blue doubted his own plan. Nightmare offered him his hand to help him stand up, then he opened a portal to the Omega Timeline. Blue froze, aura distrustful and fearful, then he ran through. He led Nightmare and Killer to their base.

Ink wrestled Dream on the ground, looking in the worst shape Nightmare had seen him in a while. Claw and teeth marks covered his collar bones and skull. He kept his hands on his shoulders to push him back, keeping him from biting his neck. The golden guardian frothed at the mouth. His sharpened teeth and claws tore into the ground. Ink groaned in relief when he saw help, but he couldn’t look at them for long as Dream still foamed at the mouth and growled.

“Hey! Blue! Nightmare! Can you get your twin off me? I think he got rabies!” Ink kicked Dream in the ribs, though that didn’t stop him from sinking his sharp teeth into his neck bone. Ink yelped in pain and was thrown off guard. Dream didn’t let go as he lapped up Ink’s black blood and a glowing yellow substance that flowed after it.

Nightmare wrapped his tendril around Dream’s neck, a second around his arms, and a third around his legs. He tore Dream off Ink’s body like removing an engorged tick from a hound.

“Brother, CONTROL YOURSELF.” Nightmare ordered, shaking Dream with his tendril. He believed it would snap a little sense into his brother, but all it did was make him growl. “You’re behaving like an animal!”

Blue rushed over to Ink’s side and cradled his head. His dual-colored eye lights were dim and gray. He immediately used healing magic to seal up the bite wound, along with the other injuries. “Ink? Ink, wake up!”

“‘m awake . . . ‘m good . . .” Ink mumbled, struggling to keep his eye sockets open. The blood loss and emotion extraction exhausted him. “Whole multiverse is spinning right now . . .”

Killer stood over both Blue and Ink. “Eh, he’ll be fine. Boss does the same thing to me biweekly and I’m still here.”

“He what?” Blue peeked over at Nightmare, then Killer, like he wanted to talk but couldn’t. “But what if it’s an infection? Like a zombie!”

“It is not,” Nightmare said, examining his brother. He opened his code. “He’s healthy, by some curse. His LV is incredibly high and that is dangerous for a monster, especially one as . . . tenderhearted by creation as Dream is.”

Blue held Ink tighter. “Can you fix him?”

Nightmare hummed. “I could, but not for free. I want something in exchange for my services.”

Blue grimaced. “What something?”

“Hm . . . I have been keeping an eye on a selection of newly formed AUs. They’re quite negative and dark in nature and I would like to own them for my personal uses.”

Ink coughed. “Hell no, you’re not- not takin’ my AUs . . . those are my babies . . .”

Nightmare blinked at him, then shrugged, closing Dream’s code box. “Then I will not help. Ta-ta. Come on, Killer.”

“Wait!” Blue shouted. Ink might be upset later, but he couldn’t make a deal when he wasn’t fully conscious. The shout did successfully catch Nightmare’s attention again. Having that cold teal eye light watch him like a hawk made Blue nervous again. “I’ll talk with Error, and Ink when he is awake and healed . . . but we can get you those AUs! Error still owes me a favor or two!”

Nightmare thought about it. Blue worried that since the results weren’t immediate, he wouldn’t accept. And he didn’t know if the long wait was genuine thinking, or if Nightmare wanted to draw out Blue’s anxiety for as long as possible. Finally, he was met with a contented sigh and a hand in his face. “You have yourself a deal, mortal. We have a temporary truce until my brother has recovered.”

Blue felt his soul patter in his chest as he shook Nightmare’s hand. It was so different from Dream’s. His hand was warm and soft, like he was always wearing a mitten. Nightmare’s felt like sticking his hand into a barrel of frozen, gel-like oil. He looked back at Dream as Killer picked him up in his arms and Blue stood up with Ink. He knew his friends would be fine, they always were, but it still upset him to see them so injured.

=======================================================================

Dream felt like he had weights tied to his limbs and eyelids when he woke up. His jaw ached with dull pain. His memory was a blur, but after blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he remembered devouring that poor, innocent Snowdrake in his home. He saw his code box, then everything went dark. With a gasp, he sat up, pulling on his wrist and making him realize he had a needle attached to his arm. Bandages wrapped around his mouth.

“Shh, there, there, brother. Settle down.” A soft, accented voice whispered to him from nearby.

Dream grew defensive. “Nightmare? Where am I? What did you do to me?”

Nightmare scoffed. He sat on another cot, staring at Dream like he was a rat in a lab. “What did I do? Rather rude of you to assume I’m behind every tragedy that occurs in this multiverse. You did this one to yourself. You nearly brought the early demise of your comrade.”

“My- what? Where’s Ink and Blue?”

“They’re fine. I have not harmed them and Blue was the one seeking my help, as you were attacking Ink. We’re on a temporary truce until you recover. They are on the first floor with my men. Killer was showing them their . . . one of their video game consoles. I don’t know, I simply let them steal it. I’ll report to your friends that you’re well and awake.”

Dream’s non-existent heart stopped when Nightmare mentioned he attacked Ink. If he was severely injured, he would’ve said something. Nightmare left the room and ignored Dream’s mumbled question about it.

Barely two minutes later, Blue ran into the medbay. Ink followed behind him. The sight of bandages around his neck filled Dream’s nonexistent stomach with guilt. He couldn’t remember the exact details, but he knew from the bottom of his soul that it was his fault.

“Nightmare wasn’t lying for once! Hey, Dream! How are you doing?” Ink asked, sitting down on Dream’s leg, right on his cracked knee. However, he didn’t want to interrupt the relief of having his friend back.

Blue was more careful. He stood beside him, eye lights locked on the bandages are “Dream? What happened to you?”

Dream’s lower jaw trembled, then he broke into tears, grabbing onto Ink for comfort. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go this far. That one day when we went to fight Nightmare and I was tired . . . I had a taste of blood. A real taste of real blood. It made me stronger and I- I couldn’t stop craving it. I tried to stop myself from eating people, but I couldn’t control it! I started counting my victims, but the negative feelings became so bad I stopped after six bodies. I needed blood last night and it’s a blur, but I attacked an innocent Snowdrake and started turning into that monster. Ink, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“Psh, you’re asking about me when you were on all fours with gigantic fangs? Why didn’t you tell any of us you had a problem?”

Dream had his eye lights locked onto the bandages around Ink’s neck, but when he asked the question, he looked down at his own hands with shame. “I was scared. I thought you would be disgusted by me, exile me from the Star Sanses, or worse. I didn’t want to let you down. You two, the Omega Timeline, the multiverse, even Nightmare, I had to stay strong. I am so sorry, and I understand if you can’t trust me anymore.”

Blue’s eye lights softened as he placed his hand on Dream’s forehead. “Don’t say that. We’re still your friends. It wasn’t your fault. You said it yourself, you couldn’t control it and you didn’t want to hurt anyone. Even when you were that mutated monster, neither of us wanted to hurt you! We wanted to save you because that’s what we do!”

“Exactly what he said! We’ve been in this together for years! We’ve gone through so many dark and twisted AUs that we’ve seen it all and what we do in those places. Obviously, we would know something is up if we caught you eating bodies because that’s not what your script should have you do.” Ink readjusted himself so Dream was more comfortable. “Nightmare fixed up your code to lower your LV, so I guess the cravings are going away too. Then we’ll get you home and Blue made a deal while I was half asleep, so I gotta arrange a meeting with Error and Nightmare this week. I wrote it on my scarf and I’m so looking forward to it . . .”

“It was that or Dream stayed a vampire!” Blue snapped, although there was little real anger in his voice. He looked back at him. “We’re backing you through your whole recovery, okay? We’re not going anywhere!”

“Thank you . . . thank you to you both for everything. You’re the reason I’m here and safe right now.” Dream smiled, without any worry or duplicity this time, though he knew the words weren’t enough. His soul swelled with relief and joy as he wrapped his sore arms around Blue and Ink, catching them both off guard. Ink wrapped one arm around Dream’s back and another by his neck, and Blue squeezed both Dream and Ink. They didn’t say anything. Dream liked the silence, the safety, the warmth, the feeling of being strong without a horrid hunger pain following it.