Orphaned. Left alone, the definition of it. Like a fantasy, or a dream, saved by a being willing enough to take you under their wing and keep you safe. With secrets to be shared, stories to be told, the months pass by as you trade your lives. Given warmth, Given care, Given love. But so insignificant is your life compared to what lies beyond, what is going outside of the safety and comfort of what you thought to be a normal life. What tall tales lie underneath the happiness you found. ((I wrote this when I was twelve, please stop readInG IT-))

Two stories, brought together by twists, turns, and a mess of events. (Y/N), a kindly soul from Recoverytale, finds themselves assuming the role of hero, a role they never wanted. Although they are safe with Dream by their side, no one else is. And that simply isn't fair, is it? (N/N), a bold adventure seeker from Recoveryswap, is desperate to find the Nightmare they loved-desperate to save him from the Darkness. But of course, it's never easy to save someone that hardly wants to be saved. The two souls both long for it all to end peacefully. They both wish for their happy ending, but it'll take more than hopes and dreams to get it. Meanwhile, Nightmare is in a state of divided conflict. As he rebels against the Darkness, the Darkness fights back. Nightmare is just as desperate as (N/N)-if he doesn't stop himself, the Multiverse will be torn apart at his hands. Dream is trying desperately to both protect (Y/N) and save his brother. But there's no time to save both of them before the Multiverse collapses into chaos. As a war rages on between positivity and negativity, (Y/N) and (N/N) are forced to work together-but it's not only their lives at stake. It's the life of the Multiverse-and a fallen prince-that's on the line. And they're the only ones that can stop it. ---- (In order to understand anything that's going on, read Expiation and/or Divinity. Both can be found in my profile.) ---- [Dream and Nightmare belong to Jokublogs. The Sans' belong to their respective creators. I only own Recoveryswap and Recoverytale, and of course, this book series.] Book 3 of the Dreamtale Trilogy

100 years after the tragic events of Dreamtale, the two brothers continue a war of hate and love. Any AU unfortunate enough to get in the way of the darker brother's path is either conquered or destroyed. Your universe, Recoverytale, is a peaceful universe. Monsters and humans live together in harmony, and you simply love helping others. Everything was absolutely perfect-yet it felt like something was missing. But then the attack happens, and you're pulled into a whirlpool of magic, emotions, and more universes than you can remember. But don't worry. You'll have a new team by your side. And who knows? Maybe you'll find that missing piece. (It is highly recommended that you read 'Dreamtale: Origins' before this book.) [All characters belong to their respective creators. I am only the creator of Recoverytale/swap.] -Cover Art by Unknown- Book 2 of the Dreamtale Trilogy

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 2 --- Versailles (proper noun). The argument over the etymology of Versailles tends to privilege the Latin word 'versare', meaning "to keep turning, turn over and over", an expression used in medieval times for plowed lands, cleared lands (lands that had been repeatedly "turned over"). --- He wasn't like any endermen you had seen before - probably because he wasn't fully an enderman. He was tall like an enderman, but that was where the similarity ended. He was split down the middle - half of his skin the same inky black as the twins, the other half a radiant white. His eyes didn't match either - one blood red and the other emerald green. His hair fell in soft waves, almost obscuring his eyes at times, and he kept his head tilted down, his sharp jawline on display. He seemed timid, but that might have just been the situation - anyone behind bars would likely hang their head.

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 3 --- Hiraeth (Welsh pronunciation: [hɪraɨ̯θ, hiːrai̯θ]) is a Welsh word for longing or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. The feeling of longing for a home that no longer exists or never was. A deep and irrational bond felt with a time, era, place or person. --- You were close enough that you could see the crew scurrying about on deck now. They looked as ragged as the ship - no sense of unity about them other than that they were all standing on deck together, swords brandished as you approached. You scanned over them and felt suddenly grateful for your sailing uniform - some of those pirates didn't even have shoes. Simon strode the deck, scanning through the ranks for the captain of the Ghost. You had been given some indication as to what she looked like, but when she parted herself from the ranks of her crew, you weren't quite ready for what she actually looked like. They didn't do her justice on the wanted posters back home. She was short, but powerfully built. You could see ram horns sticking out from underneath her extravagant hat, and her coat was a bright blood red - the gold trim faded somewhat. You were most focused on her hair though - pure white and absolutely massive, it looked like a cloud around her head. Stern eyes finished the look, and you couldn't help but be a little bit entranced - this was the kind of person that people were scared to make eye contact with. Simon didn't seem all that frightened when he came to stand on the edge of your own deck, facing her over the narrow strip of sea that separated you - and you were grateful. If you were captain, you didn't know if you would be able to look her in the eye.

close your eyes, you'll be here soon so omori's fricking great, play it i beg i decided to write something x reader out of sheer nostalgia soooo hope you enjoy lol there will be massive omori spoilers ahead, be warned :) VERY slow updates, so sorry notable ranks!! #89 in hero #1 in mari #81 in scenarios #2 in basil #1 in aubrey #1 in sunny started: jan 12, 2021 finished: apr 16, 2022

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK TWO -- Approaching Anoitos' temple again, you opened the door, turning as you stepped inside to close it again. The door closing with a satisfying clunk, you spun back around, intending to just quickly bow your head and grab your beads without much circumstance. You were not expecting to see a man, mid-way through stuffing his face with the plate of offerings you had brought, at the altar, his eyes blown wide with panic and focused on you. You stared back at him. "I- you- what are you doing? Who are you? How-?" You turned halfway back to the door, intending to run for one of the guards. "Wait!" The man's voice drew your attention back to him, just in time to see his appearance shift slightly - like there was something behind the mirage of his skin. For a moment - the man was gone, and in his place, a living replica of the hulking gold warrior depicted in the statue took his place. Your hand dropped from the handle of the door, staring up at the god before you. Out of all the times for your prayers to be answered... and of all ways, like this... "See?" He said, shrinking back to the man you had seen before, the boyish smile you knew so well still on his face. "It's just me!" Standing before you, with crumbs of bread on his face, was Anoitos, somehow - impossibly - in the flesh.