Bitter Medicine: or How Molt and Rem met Killer, part 1.
aannd we're off to a great start boys! please don't fight. perhaps someone should mind their words?
This is for @orbital-inclination a short story of your twins in my multiverse. It is born from the small fairytale allusion you made. And also your mention of reapertale.
Also here's your characters gachafied. All were made by Orbital.
Let the 4th one be.
It felt somewhat wrong to do this. The two had their own group, they were just trying to achieve a balance. But hey maybe it would be good to let Molten and Rem time with their own group. ■■■■■■■ was still trying to achieve the same around the world she created. But it kept tearing off and falling apart. She was no creator and her own creator was too fickle to pay attention. Way too passionate, way too volatile. But maybe they could indeed help in their own right. Many stories fell apart because the current team was seen as the worst. So maybe a gentler hand could help somewhat. Maybe even bringing the ones made similar to fairy tales would make the transition easier. They do have their own group though.
■■■■■■■ twirled her clawed finger around the piece of apple centering it all. “It's a wonder how you would survive a world with darkness at its center.” She picked a memory from around her and started to tie it in place. As she did so, the world reset again.
***
After Error became one with the multiverse. After Nightmare destroyed a shared surface and Dream tried his best to heal it. A girl in a hoodie of blood and dust walked deep into a forest. Her face was hidden by the shadows of the hood and the bone mask she wore. A mask made of all animals who suffered at the hands of a sapient being, humans and monsters alike could be cruel in their advancement. It was made to look like a pug skull, which she saw as the worst sapient-made catastrophe.
The girl walked deeper into the forest, until she walked up a hill, her red scarf which smelled like spaghetti swaying behind her with each step. With the long tooth of a narwhal, she stabbed the ground on the top of the hill. For a moment memories and scripts flooded the world around her. As if this spot had been the bed of spirits waiting to be freed. After the deluge of words and feelings, the girl took two apples out of her inventory. An apple of darkness and negativity. Then an apple of light and positivity.
She was about to plant them when she felt the raw aura of death behind her. Though she had nothing to fear, she looked behind her. It was in fact Reaper Sans, the god of painful deaths. He looked downright miserable. Holding a soul brimming with life. The goddess of life, after meeting their end was now but a soul clutching at what remnants of hers remained. “Plant that with them.” It wasn't a wish or an offer. It was an order from a god. Something this girl was in her own right more powerful than. But she knew it wasn't a fight worth preserving. She wanted this goddess of life to have a shot too.
So she took the soul and let the world fuse all three in a single apple tree sapling. Which she then planted with care. Her voice was rough from lungs burning too fast for far too many events. “I will make sure she lives on even after the incident comes to pass.”
The Reaper stared her down with empty eyesockets; he still hated her. “When will it be good enough for the multiverse to live on?!”
At least it wasn't the same hatred. “I would like to remind you, that without my help this place would have crumbled leaving only one survivor.”
Both of their weapons were clenched, one of death and harvest, the other of cruelty and myths. “It's the 4th one.”
The girl sighs. “I hope this one makes you all go to therapy like my 4th time.” She then walked down the hill and hid in the dark of the trees. The Reaper stayed for a moment longer before leaving in return.
***
Years passed in the fairytale au for which the tree was planted. Two children were now born from the roots. The clearing was big enough for them to see the passage of the biseasonal year. The rainy season and the heat season. It was always way too warm or way too cold, but they made do with what they had. Eating one new berry at a time to be sure they could survive it.
Luckily for them when one would most likely not make it. They were somehow cured the next day. As the world grew around them, they saw traveling merchants pass. Talking about the world beyond the tree-lined. Sometimes they would hand them books and teach them how to read if they had the time. One of them asked if they could build their home close. They had a family to protect and their horses were getting too old for their ever-growing need. The brother born from darkness and negativity was suspicious. But the brother born from light and positivity was accepted. Both of them just made one thing clear. Never Touch Their Tree.
And for generations, a village grew from wary travelers and wandering merchants. None touched the tree that the twins protected. Some went to marvel at the golden apples that seemed to glow in the hot season. Even fertilizing the soil when it fell on the clearing from where it stood.
However, the twin of light was seen more and more as a divine prophet of the goddess of light. Sent to stand on a throne in a temple to hear blessings and pleadings from the ever-growing village. The more the twin of positivity was held upwards. The more his brother was held down. His apples born from negativity and darkness seemed to drown in sorrow in the rainy season. The plant they grew only seemed to mimic it. Of course, only the well-versed in witchcraft and apothecary could see the divine blessing such plants provided. So only such people went to ask for help. Sadly they were also the ones victims of persecution.
While the brother of positivity was held in stuffy thrones and used his magic to give power to the teachings of an old priest. The brother of negativity made friends with the rats of society.
One day however the teaching grew from kindness and life, to fear and corruption. The brother of positivity was asked to come give credit to the words. The more pariahs of society were either slain in front of him. Or simply punished.
The brothers grew steadily more apart both thinking the other would never understand such pain. Yes, the light was held with care and reverence, but his words meant nothing. Yes, the darkness had his words bring comfort, but he was held down for his bad omens.
Then the Incident happened, the old priest put the child of dreams in his office pretending to need to rest. While he brought a mob to the tree. The child of nightmares pleaded for his life as sticks and stones broke his bones. Curses and simple words branded his spirit until he witnessed his apple fall. Before it met the ground he held his hand and simply bit into its flesh. Letting the sorrow and determination of everyone who cultivated his plants course through the magic within him. With a sword, he fought back. But he was too small and not yet accustomed to its weight.
The child of dreams came running when a whisper from the past met him. He tried to plead and protect his brother. But again his words fell silent. Tears fell when his apple dropped before him. While the old priest tried to use this as proof of their righteous action. The child of the dream ate the apple whole. The greed of his following bit into him as a need for more overtook him. He ate apples until none were left. During a monologue, the priest fell from pure bliss as molten gold like tentacles rested on his head. The same went for all who came.
Positivity blinded Dream but Nightmare held his hand as they fled. Letting the clearing rot from bliss. The tree fell later, but no one knows how or why.
Been meaning to animate something for practice and then saw @orbital-inclination new post of Molt and Rem having a snowball fight. Just the rough keys right now, might add a few more. hehe so silly. Killer getting sacrificed. R.I.P. Killer
you can’t speak to Rem that way!
Moltendreams!AU @.me
og dreamtale @.jokublog
notes under cut.
the swans are a reference to a Brothers Grimm fairytale “The Six Swans” a story about a king who remarries after the death of his wife. the new queen secretly mistreats his children and turns his six sons into swans. his daughter escapes this fate but in order to save her brothers, she must not speak or laugh for six years. in other versions of the story, she must also weave a shirt out of nettle grass for each brother.
**edit as of March 2024, after letting this thing live in my drafts for ages: this art is 2 years old! what the hell
