TNT duo parallels/ contrasts

C!quackity clinging to anything he has, while wilbur wants to keep everyone at arms lenght is so interesting??

They both had nothing in the beginning and passionately fought for their causes. While c!quackity (in my eyes) wanted to archieve likeability through relatability (at least in lmanburg days), he never made an effort to hide who he was.

Wilbur on the other hand strived for something higher than himself. He always wanted to put on a great show, a character. And if you play a character for too long, you can't just ... Stop (It's an older sibling thing, i'm sure). He played on and on for so long that he saw only death as a means to stop his course to damnation.

Meanwhile c!quackity put up a barricade (instead of a fascade). Don't trust anyone and all that. His character felt physically and emotionally isolated until charlie came along. And oh, how c!quackity was thankful for that little guy that followed him around and listened carefully to every word he said (never had that before / didn't last long). He taught him lessons - parallel to the life advice tommy would receive from wilbur.

While revivedburs physicality felt like he had no physical boundaries (like personal space, getting hurt, ect.) he had huge emotional ones, which i think are best presented to us in "hitting on 16" where tommy gives him the glass of water and mans is so in his role of stone hard unemotional leader, that he can't even thank his closest friend.

He wouldn't ever let tommy know how much he meant to him... Until the finale. C!quackity also protects charlie for charlies sake. Not for his own. Wilbur (esp. Revivedbur) protects others to proove a point.

What would have lead to Hyrule being MORE then 10,000 years old in your timeline? Most states and cultures IRL don’t even last above several centuries at most, so I wonder what’s the reason for it’s epithet as the “Eternal Kingdom” as mentioned in one of your posts

So... the name "Eternal Kingdom" is mainly what other countries outside of the Hyrule's border called them. Since from their perspective, the Kingdom of Hyrule had a very long and unbroken rule over its lands for 10 000 years under the same name and same ruling royal family. With evidences that they do have some level of divinity to back them up.

As opposed to themselves who may have gone through cycles of change. For example, my version of Ordon - their own recorded history goes back at least 9000 years with multiple eras of different rulers, governance, disasters and significant events that shape them into their present-day state. These countries and their people don't essentially need to know Hyrule's origins and take it into account with how they view this ancient Kingdom. But as far as they are aware, Hyrule has always been there. Until the day of the Second Calamity and how that shattered Hyrule's 10K year long streak.

.

As for how old Hyrule actually is, I put an asterisk on the " 10 000 years* " since it's a bit vague and they didn't really give definite dates on when exactly certain events occurred and how far apart they happened from each other.

My interpretation of the BotW-TotK timeline is that the Founding of the Kingdom of Hyrule, the Imprisoning Wars and later the First Calamity happened WITHIN the Ancient Era of 10K. And the Age of Zonai along with precedessors of the Ancient Hyruleans existed for some time before the Kingdom's founding. (The exact number of years / dates lost or forgotten from historical records ).

At least from the standpoint of BotW/TotK's present-day. Since it happened so far back in time that its all mashed together into a blur.

Its implied that very little of recorded history from back then survived to present-day. Either because of written text being lost or destroyed, language drift (similar to how Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs were misinterpreted/untranslatable for the longest time until the Rosetta Stone discovery in 1799) or they were forgotten from living memory. Or even a combination of all above.

TL;DR - the Kingdom of Hyrule is estimated to be 10 000-ish years old in the BotW-TotK timeline, based on in-game lore and history. And because of their extreme longevity, the Kingdom is sometimes called the "Eternal Kingdom" by their neighbours.

--

Lastly, this is a rule I give to myself when it comes to worldbuilding, whether it be with the Legend of Zelda or...any fictional world I play around with.

The fictional world and their lore does not essentially have to be realistic, to our real world standards. It only needs to be believable within the rules of their fantastical universe. (Quoted by me cuz I made that up, 05 Sept 2023)

What I mean by this is that, it is okay to take inspiration from real world history, culture and people when building up your stories and the world that it is set in. How realistic you want your worlds and stories to be is completely up to you. BUT it is not essential. You can be as fantastical and mind-blowing as you want in your world and stories. As long as it is believable to the reader / player.

Hyrule being 10 000(ish) years old is frankly mind-bending and almost eldritch to think about. And that's okay. You can accept that official canon or not. And let's be honest, Nintendo is not that well-known for their lore building in their games. And the canon Zelda timeline is already a mess to follow with.

(Also do check out Overly Sarcastic Productuon's video about BotW-Hyrule and its environmental storytelling (pre-TotK release). It has influenced how I interpret this specific version of Hyrule).

Personally, realism for me is more of a source of inspiration rather than a hard rule to how my worlds work. I build my worlds to be...places that I want to explore. With that feeling of exploration to immerse people into what this world is like and their in-universe lore adds layers that can excite the imagination.

And that's the beauty of worldbuilding. You can make the most fantastical world with magic, dragons and aliens, or the most realistic world based on real life but with mechas, dinosaurs and cowboys. Because why not!

The only limitation is your own imagination and how you build it up.

TL;DR - You can worldbuild the most realistic or fantastical world as much as you want. As long as it is believable to the reader that they too can imagine your world in their own imaginations.

(AO3 - prev)

Something is very off about this landscape, Etho thought to himself as he flew over forests and mountains, but I can't figure out what. No singular object looked out of place, and everything was located about where you'd expect; and yet, when flying over this world, the terrain almost seemed to blur by much faster than it should. He needed to find someone familiar, and fast.

After quite a bit of flying back and forth, Etho flew over a mesa and finally saw a familiar face; Jimmy, wandering around in what must be his base. He was hoping to find Joel, really-- he'd seen him on the player list earlier-- but Jimmy would do as well. He was getting a bit tired of flying anyway. He angled his body downward, preparing to land on the sand...

And hit the ground much faster than anticipated.

The armor he was wearing over the weird toga protected him from serious injury, but the fall still dazed him for a few seconds. Etho found himself laying in the sand, and saw Jimmy walking towards him; seemed like he noticed Etho's very undignified landing. Etho sat up, meeting Jimmy's eyes, who seemed... scared? Why would he be scared of someone he's just watched faceplant into a sand floor?

“Hey Jimmy,” Etho said, trying to sound casual. He got up fully, and only then noticed the extremely obvious fact that Jimmy only reached up to his waist.

“Hi, Joel...” Jimmy finally said, sounding very disturbed, “How's it going?”

“What?” Etho burst out laughing. “What is happening? Why am I like twelve feet tall now?” At least the weirdness of the terrain made sense now; Everything went by twice as fast because Etho was twice as big. And that explained why Jimmy looked so intimidated-

Then it hit him.

“Did you just call me Joel?”

“I- Yeah? What else am I supposed to call you, Colossus!?” Jimmy shouted back. His voice didn't sound the same as usual; he spoke with an American accent. Tango's accent, specifically.

“Wait. Wait a second, time-out.” Etho sat down on the ground to be eye level with... whoever he was talking to. “I look like Joel?”

“Well, yeah, if Joel lived in 1000 BC and- what do you mean you look like him? You are him!” Tango-- yep, definitely Tango-- responded.

“I look like Joel,” Etho said, mostly to himself. “And you look like Jimmy, by the way.”

Tango stared at him blankly. He looked down at his clothes. “I look like a cowboy.”

“Yep. You're Tango, but you look like Jimmy dressed as a cowboy. And I'm Etho, but I look like Joel dressed like a Greek god, apparently.”

Tango opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then said: “You're Eth- okay, that explains the accent, I guess. That does not explain... anything else about this. Why am I my soulmate, and why is my soulmate a cowboy?”

Etho thought about it for a while. Eventually, he concluded: “Grian messed up.”

“Grian messed up?”

Etho nodded. “Grian messed up, and somehow we ended up possessing Joel and Jimmy in their home server. They mentioned living in some kinda roleplay server, didn't they?”

Tango nodded as well. “This is true.” He sighed. “Okay. Sure. I'm fine blaming Grian for whatever the he-”

“Someone's coming.” Etho looked into the distance, where he saw someone approaching. Tango whirled around, and they both looked towards Gem as she landed on the ground. She looked different from usual; her antlers were gone, she was wearing a long pink dress, and orange butterfly wings seemed to sprout out of her back.

“Act natural!” Etho hissed to Tango. He knew people's memories could get jostled when traveling between servers, especially Lore-heavy ones, so it was entirely possible this version of Gem would have no idea what Hermitcraft even was.

Gem smiled at Tango. “Hello, Sheriff!” she said.

“Uh- hi, howdy, partner!” Tango responded, with what sounded like a cross between a British and a Texan accent. “What... can I do for-”

“Oh my god. Okay, Tango, I know it's you,” Gem interrupted him. “That accent was awful.”

“Oh, you do?” Tango replied, dropping the accent. “Amazing! Do you know what happened here?”

“Well, about as much as anyone else does. Something weird happened with your hardcore server, everyone's souls got swapped around, you know, normal stuff.” She shrugged. “Grian and Scar are working on reversing it, I think.”

“Grian and Scar?” Etho said. “That isn't encouraging.”

Gem huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I wouldn't wanna be you right now. Anyway,” she said, spreading her arms wide, “Welcome to Empires! You guys are here as Jimmy and Joel, and Pearl is probably also around as Scott. I'm gonna check on them later. And I'm here too, and hopping back and forth to Hermitcraft all the time, so I could get messages between here and there if necessary. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Tango said, nodding fervently. “It's good to know we're not going crazy, at least.”

“Hmm, I wouldn't go that far,” Gem replied. “Well, I do have my own empire to run, so I'm gonna go there now. You guys can just... hang out, I guess.” Gem began to leave, then turned back around.

“Oh, one more thing. This is a roleplay server, and the other players are... very enthusiastic about it. They pretty much never break character. So if you encounter someone else, I'd say you should probably act like you are Joel and Jimmy, lest they make... a whole thing out of it. They were just starting a rivalry, I think. Alright, have fun!”

Then, Gem turned around and took off. Tango shouted after her: “And you're just gonna leave us with that?”

“What are you guys talking about?” an unfamiliar voice said from behind Etho.

Etho startled, got up and looked behind him to find the source of the voice. He didn't see anyone, but then remembered to look down. A bearded man wearing blue armor and a mossy green cape smiled up at him.

“Oh, you know, just...” Etho said, remembering what Gem mentioned. “Just... antagonising Jimmy, that's what I'm doing!” he pointed an uncertain finger at Tango's face, which was actually Jimmy's face. “You... you scoundrel!”

“What!” Tango responded. “I'm being antagonised! How dare you!” Tango responded, and shook a fist at Etho. Etho had to admit, he mimicked Jimmy's outraged face pretty well.

“Oh no!” the stranger responded. “Well, I don't want to get in the way of that, so I'll be gone quickly, I promise.” He didn't seem to realise anything was out of the ordinary. He also did not leave, but instead continued to look at Etho, making some kind of gesture with his hand. Etho stared blankly at him.

“Get down,” he stage-whispered to Etho.

“What?”

“Get down here, I wanna say something to you,” he whispered, making the gesture again. He was pointing to the ground, Etho realised.

“I thought you were leaving,” Etho said, but he sat down anyways. The other man grabbed his head.

“I've dropped Hermes off at your place. He can't wait to see his thunder daddy again,” the man whispered into his ear. Then, he reached down, and briefly squeezed Etho's butt.

“Okay, I'll talk to you later! Bye bye!” he yelled, and left just as suddenly as he'd arrived, leaving Etho sitting on the ground, speechless.

After a long ten seconds, Tango spoke up: “Did he just... what did he say to you?”

“I don't think you want to know.”

* * * * *

Staring at the face on the chat device's screen, Pearl took a moment to assess the facts. She had Scott's body, Scott's chat, and was in an unfamiliar player-built village that was likely to be Scott's base. Which was not in Hermitcraft.

“Grian, how on earth have you managed to do this?” she said to herself. She then used Scott's chat to check the player list of this new server. She recognised every name on the list; it seemed like the group from Empires.

Oh, Empires. What a beautiful fever dream that was, Pearl thought. Maybe she'd reminisce with some of the others later, when she saw them. But first, it'd probably be wise to get to the bottom of this situation. She narrowed the player list down to three people she'd like to see: Joel and Jimmy, in case they knew what was going on, or fWhip, in case he could reverse it with admin permissions. Then she unfolded the very colourful elytra she had on her, and started flying.

After a little bit, Pearl encountered someone else, flying in roughly the same direction as her. When she got closer, she immediately recognised him: it was Sausage, wearing a different outfit from last time, although equally regal.

“Alright, forget the list, I've gotta go talk to him. SAUSAGE!” she yelled, causing him to turn around in mid-air. The two of them circled downwards until they landed.

“Sausage! Hi! Oh my goodness, it's been so long!” Pearl said, excitedly.

“Hi Scott, what's up?” Sausage replied. “Didn't we talk last week?”

Oh, right. “Right. Okay, this is awkward, but I'm not actually Scott.”

“Really?”

“Nope. I'm Pearl!”

“Pearl... that's a nice name. Do you have new pronouns too?” Sausage asked, smiling. Pearl had to admit, that wasn't really the reaction she was hoping for.

“No- well, yes, but- this isn't a transition situation, Sausage. More like... a possession situation.”

Sausage gasped, and took a few steps backwards. “Possession?! Are you, like, a spirit that's taken over Scott's body?”

“Well, kind of... what, don't you remember your old friend Pearlo?”

“Hmm... sorry, let me think for a moment,” Sausage responded. “Nope, I don't remember any friends named Pearl. Unless you mean...” he stopped talking for a second. His eyes widened.

“No. Is it true? Are you... her?” his voice was suddenly softer, more gentle.

“Yes, I've just told you I was!” Pearl replied. She was stunned. Sure, Sausage was always pretty strongly affected by Lore, but forgetting about her this hard? Maybe Ren was right, maybe she really was cursed.

“Oh my... oh my goodness, that's amazing! You've returned to us!” Sausage said, back to his normal energetic voice. “We have to do something to celebrate... a feast. Would you like a feast?”

“I'm always down for a feast!” Pearl replied.

“Wonderful! Come on, let's get to Sanctuary. Follow me, please!”

---

“Sausage, you have got to give me a tour of this world after the feast,” Pearl said to Sausage as the two of them flew over a sea filled with pirate ships.

“Of course, I'd be happy to!” Sausage replied. Then he added, in that uncharacteristically quiet voice again: “If I may ask one question though... why Scott?”

“Well, I didn't get any choice in the matter, it was just picked randomly,” Pearl replied. “I probably would've chosen somebody else, to be honest. Scott's at least a better option than Jimmy though.”

Sausage laughed. “So true,” he said. “That's interesting though. I thought a goddess would have more power over that...”

Wait, what? Goddess? Before Pearl could ask any questions, sausage landed on the street of a beautiful city, next to a large cathedral.

“Here we are! I haven't actually prepared the feast, so I'm going to do that right now. Do you have any food you'd like to try?” Sausage asked.

“Hmmm... Soup! I love soup.”

“Soup?” Sausage repeated. “That isn't very feast-y, though...”

“No, but it is tasty. I like soup,” Pearl replied.

“Of course. You're right, I'm sorry. We can make soup! I'll get started right now. You could have a look around Sanctuary, or just take a rest in your cathedral, alright?” Sausage said. He was talking rather fast now.

“Do you need some help with that, or...”

“No, of course not! You're an honored guest, you don't have to do anything! I'll be back soon!” With that, Sausage dashed off. Pearl could still hear him talking giddily to himself.

“Well, alright then.” Pearl turned around to look at the building behind her. “My cathedral, huh...”

She stepped inside, and immediately her attention was drawn to the stained glass window in the back wall. It had a large artwork of herself, in the dress she used to wear as queen of Heliantia.

“Wow, he really wasn't lying,” Pearl said, as she strolled across the church and stepped onto the stage. There was a chair off to the side, where she sat down and stretched her legs. Or, rather, Scott's legs. That was still a very strange sensation. After a while, her chat device buzzed; a message from Gem.

GeminiTay whispered to you: Pearl?

You whispered to GeminiTay: HI GEM

GeminiTay whispered to you: oh it is you, good

GeminiTay whispered to you: Scott's in your body in hermitcraft too

GeminiTay whispered to you: where are you? I couldn't find you in Chromia

You whispered to GeminiTay: at sausage's

You whispered to GeminiTay: we're gonna have a feast

GeminiTay whispered to you: oh god

GeminiTay whispered to you: do you need rescuing?

Did she need rescuing? Sausage seemed to think she was a goddess, which was definitely weird, but a nice change of pace from being called a witch all the time. Plus, she could definitely cause some shenanigans with this knowledge. She could handle being Scott for a little while if it let her cause a bit of chaos.

You whispered to GeminiTay: nah

You whispered to GeminiTay: he's making SOUP!

You whispered to GeminiTay: you wanna join us?

This should be fun.

(next)

OKAY SO LENA

This is mostly gonna be an aimless ramble about Ideas I Have because I’m fulla those dang things most days, and hey y’all seem to like when I ramble about my OCs so I’m gonna Do That More

so y’know. If you wanna learn what my whole idea for yon’ silley foxtaur is, read on

THIS FREAKIN NERD started life as an ooooold OC- the grey, wolfy version is the classic Lena from back in the day (courtesy of absolutely wonderful character design by one of my best friends, this was before I was doing art again) and she was an OC who was always near and dear to my heart. At the time I didn’t put two and two together and go “oh b/c she’s my fursona and aspirational as hell, you closeted trans fool” but hey, I got there

anywho.

I realize that, y’know, ‘sonas don’t need to have lore or be characters, but I like making characters! So Lena does, in fact, have lore. She was, at one point, a regular ol’ person, a human being who pretty much existed on gig work and odd jobs because even in my fantasies, the real world is a gig economy nightmare. The work paid the bills, but it didn’t do much else- one of the most common jobs was delivery, think like, somehow a crappier version of being an amazon courier or somesuch.

Well, on one such delivery job, our gal ended up getting lost- like painfully lost. Instead of her destination, she ended up in literally the feywild, a fact that, despite the very obviously ancient buildings and overgrown mess, she was wholly unaware of. Upon “delivering” the package to the closest thing to an intact structure, she was enticed by fresh food just kinda… left out, we’re talking like a plate of pastries or something, something you could reasonably assume was a “take one” sorta affair.

It wasn’t… that, but bless her, Lena didn’t know that. So she took one… and then another, and another, and another. It’s the classic “oh whups you’re eating the fey’s food, bad idea”, but once she proverbially popped, she couldn’t stop. Which, of course, cursed her all to hell and back- it’s kinda what happens. She was changed top to bottom, and yes, I do mean in the transes-your-gender way but also the bottom became y’know, a fox. And the top was a fox but humanoid- it’s yon form you see above.

It also kinda… made her forget everything about herself. Her name, her age, where she was born- she knew she was human, short term memory was intact, but the rest slipped away… because it didn’t belong to her anymore. Classic fey stuff, eh? Turn you into something, take something intangible because you broke “the rules”.

Well, the new owner of those little details- and by extension, our gal’s fate, was a powerful fey being who was, turns out, the Lord of Debts and Desires, and one of the stinkiest Capital F Fey you could imagine. We’re talking constantly smug, always speaking in half-truths and pregnant pauses, a real piece of work straight outta a fairytale (which, y’know, tracks, considering)

And while this fella was nonplussed about an offering to him- and all the magic with it- being hoovered up by a delivery driver, he had a new lackey out of the deal. And that, friends, is what Lena is- a lackey.

She’s technically a cursed human, but her name is one she picked (it sounded nice, almost like a meta thing I guess) and her history is a bit of a blur past the basic facts. The fey she works for pretty much bound her to a contract: work for him until he considers the debt settled, and she’ll be right back to the old self lickety split.

I’ll let you guess as to how long that is, or whether yon fey actually thinks she’ll want to go back. Because truth be told, part of Lena… doesn’t want to. A big part.

She didn’t expect to be this way, but she’s come to embrace and even… like it more than the old her. It’s confusing, sometimes frustrating, but it feels more like her than she’s ever felt.

…wonder what THAT is a metaphor for? 🏳️‍⚧️

Anywho, there’s another big wrinkle- and that is that Lena isn’t fully a fey being… yet. I say she’s technically human because there’s that little bit of her that feels like she needs to hold onto the old idea of herself- not desperation, just… momentum, I guess. But as her fingers slip from that, she becomes more and more fey and less and less human… well

I wonder what the outcome will be?

👀 - A piece of lore you’ve been waiting for an excuse to share

and

🎧 - What are the first three songs on the playlist?

for Strange Redemption!!

Thanks for the ask!!!

👀 - A piece of lore you’ve been waiting for an excuse to share

SO MANY! But okay, here's a fun one: Four has Dissociative Identity Disorder, and although I'm going to strive for complete accuracy to the actual lived experience of this disorder as much as I can, I couldn't resist the opportunity to separate his identity into "Thad", "Thaddeus", and "Inertia". One Strange Redemption reader (hi Rebekah) has already pointed out that the name I use for Thad Thawne in the narration changes based on his mental state: Thad for regular life, Thaddeus when he's Trying To Be A Good Soldier, and Inertia when he's panicking. With Four, the division between Thad and Thaddeus and Inertia will be more complicated... and more complete. Thad doesn't have access to Thaddeus or Inertia's memories, et cetera.

Information about the Thad Four system! Fun fact: the Thad Four system considers "Thad" their core/host, but are actually unsure which of them existed first. (hard to piece together a timeline when your whole problem stems from a memory based disorder.) "Thaddeus" is the "oldest" (acts the most mature); he's a protector and the most emotionally stable of them. "Thad" is a bit younger and more emotionally open than Thaddeus. "Inertia" is the "youngest"—not that he split later, but that he acts younger, and he's the one who behaves the most obsessively (intensely focused on physical activity and handicrafts). "Inertia" probably holds at least some access to their most traumatic memories, because he's prone to act out. And then there's an alter that the others don't like much because he messes up their image of Having It All Together; he's apparently nonverbal and a complete pain to clean up after (he throws tantrums or melts down or something? they're not sure?). That last alter probably holds their traumatic memories and doesn't front very often.

Thad Four is one person, and (this is a covert disorder!) acts like it... most of the time. Some of his closest friends don't even know about his DID. But also, he very much has at least three separate sets of memories, and despite his best efforts at integration, his alters don't blur into each other much.

🎧 - What are the first three songs on the playlist?

Well this is complicated, because I have ten Strange Redemption playlists (one for each clone, one for the fic in general, and one to collect songs that OTHER people send me for Strange Redemption!) But let's go with the one I use for writing: the Two playlist.

The first three songs are all about feeling inadequate. This is because the playlist goes in chronological order according to Thad's arc in the fic, and his journey starts with confronting the fact that he is unable to pretend to be okay anymore.

oh no! by Marina and the Diamonds (I feel like I'm the worst / So I always act like I'm the best / I'm gonna live, I'm gonna fly / I'm gonna fail, I'm gonna die)

Rob Cantor // I'm Gonna Win (Sometimes I get flustered and beaten and blistered / Abandoned outside in the cold / You've seen me before, you'll see me again / But I'm gonna win, I'm gonna try / I'll never lose, I'll never die)

Swimming Pool by Young Waters (If life is a swimming pool, how do I swim? / Something in the water makes my eyes sting / so much, is it me, am I the one at fault? / Or is there something wrong with the water?)

from this ask game! (thanks again! I really enjoyed writing this)

DAY 50 LET’S GO !!

It’s been 50 days since Quackity’s first Lore Stream, and I thought I’d write a little something for the occasion. Our buddy c!dream is not doing well in the prison rn lmao

tw: torture, abuse, injuries, blood, broken bones, manipulation, gaslighting, mental deterioration, trauma, dark content, pandora’s vault/prison arc, c!quackity critical (again, not really, but a Very Dark portrayal of him) 

Quackity’s in the middle of packing up his supplies for the day when he turns over; Dream flinches, automatic, but the winged man doesn’t come closer, hands still busied with rubbing off the blood on Warden’s Will. His good eye narrows, and Dream watches, half-lucid where he’s sprawled out over the obsidian in a puddle of his own blood, breath rattling in his chest and filling the silence with shuddering wheezes.

“It’s day fifty, you know,” he says, turning back towards his sword. Dream mulls the words over as his vision blurs, refocuses, letting them settle as his too-slow head catches up with the meaning. “Of my visits.”

He tries to respond, knows better than to ignore Quackity when he’s speaking, but the words escape his head halfway up his throat and the whole thing comes out as a garbled hum through his lips. Quackity hardly spares him a second glance, sheathing the sword and moving his hand to the axe, pulling it up from the floor and watching as blood drips down the blade onto the handle.

“You know, I said I would come for as long as I fuckin’ needed, and I don’t exactly plan on making myself a liar any time soon,” Quackity’s eye slants towards him, lips pressed together in an irritated frown that Dream recognizes as the one he wears when he’s more bothered than he lets on, “So you gonna talk? Or are we gonna have to go through another fifty?”

Dream keeps his eyes on the other stubbornly, refusing to look away even with the full force of Quackity’s glare directed at him. Hey- what can he say, it’s the end of the day and he’s more than a little delirious from the pain and adrenaline. He’s sure that he’ll regret it come tomorrow, but that’s a problem for future-Dream, not now-Dream. Now-Dream has enough to worry about with trying to stay conscious as it is.

Surprisingly enough, or maybe not surprisingly at all (say what you will about the daily visits and the torture and pain they’ve brought him, but seeing the same person for hours a day every single day does mean that you end up knowing them better than most. He can say a lot about Quackity, most of which involving bloodstained fantasies of revenge and memories of agony and every excruciating moment in between, but in the end he also knows the other man, for better or for worse), Quackity shakes his head, turning back to his work, and laughs. It’s a dry, bitter thing, whatever amusement left within having long cooled and sharpened into something viscous and wanting, but it’s still laughter, the sound so unfamiliar that it makes him physically recoil for a moment before his head catches up.

“You really are a stubborn bastard, aren’t you?” Quackity’s voice dips low in wry humor even as he looks away again, and Dream closes his eyes, lets the world go dark for a blissful second. “Fifty days- I have to say. I’m impressed! It’s really…quite impressive.”

Fifty days- Dream looks up again, head lolling over limply as he tries to look closer. Quackity never brought up the time before, had enjoyed in the psychological side of making him guess how long it’d been, in giving fake times and messing with his head without a clock to keep his head straight. In all honesty, there’s a side of him that’s convinced that he’s lying, but - well - it’s not like it matters, how long it’s been. It’s hardly like there’s a time limit or anything.

“Anyway,” he stands up suddenly, reaching up to stretch his arms, wings spreading to his sides, catching the light of the lava, seeping through the feathers, “We’ll have to cut today short, alright Dream? I have, well you know, arrangements. We’re celebrating.”

“Yeah?” Dream rolls his eyes, words thick in his mouth, and he spits out a mess of blood and other gunk onto the floor beside him, recoiling at the feeling. “Celebrating what?”

“Well, it’s been fifty days, hasn’t it?”

Quackity’s voice has shifted to a slight drawl, almost fond save for the edges, sharpened to a razor point and ready to cut through skin, muscle, bone. It’s a tone that Dream’s become all-too-familiar with, the sort of way Quackity speaks when he’s about to say something that he thinks will make him hurt, when he feels like using his words alone to drive a knife between his ribs and then twist the handle. It’s unassuming, slow, and cruel in every sense of the word, and Dream blinks slowly as he waits for the meaning to register in his pain-addled mind.

Quackity must take his silence for something else, because he laughs again - this one is one that Dream’s familiar with, a hissing, mocking thing that curdles the very air. “Oh- you didn’t think they didn’t know, did you? He turns back towards Dream, moves closer, hair having fallen over his scar and lips twisted in a smile that shows off his glinting golden tooth, “You really- you really fuckin’ thought they didn’t know, prime, this is pathetic Dream, this is a new low even for you.”

Know what- oh.

“Of course they know, Dream,” Quackity kneels in front of him, hand reaching forward to grab him by the jaw, running his thumb back and forth over a fresh cut slashed over his cheekbone and putting enough pressure on it to make it sting, “I told them ages ago - I told you, too, did you seriously fuckin’ forget? Prime- the whole point of you being in this shithole is for the revive book. Once I get it we can finally just kill you and be done with it - of course they know, man! They’re fuckin’ cheering me on.”

Dream watches, waits for the betrayal to come, hot and fast as it always has before. Waits for the rage to come bubbling up, dark and angry, waits for his hands to shake feebly with desperate fantasies of revenge that will probably never make it out of the walls of this obsidian hell. He waits, and waits, and waits, even as Quackity grins and walks to the back of the cell, a triumphant spring to his steps, and disappears in a shattered potion of harming that sends another wave of agony through his broken body.

Nothing comes.

And- it’s almost funny, nearly has him laughing hysterically in the middle of his cell, still spread in a mangled pile of broken bones and limbs twisted unnaturally, drenched in sweat and blood, because - of course, of course now he finally manages to do what he’s been trying for all along, of course now his traitorous, bleeding heart that never failed to bruise and fracture no matter how any layers of netherite he wrapped around himself finally, finally hardens, of course now after fifty fucking days of torture does he finally learn the lessons that he’s been trying to teach all along.

Lesson 27, he remembers himself saying, hands clasped around each other as he paced back and forth on a mountain’s peak, grass crumbling beneath his boots, do not reminisce on what you have lost for it will weigh you down.

It’s been fifty days, and Dream laughs, because after so, so long, he finally has no attachments - and it’s the best feeling in the world.

An analysis on Ranboo’s lore playlist

okay y’all first of all, ranboo has a killer taste, i love him, and second, i couldn’t resist. i’m an analyst by nature. am i looking too deep into some things? did ranboo maybe choose some songs purely for the vibe? perhaps. do i care? no. let me have my fun.

I’m gonna drop my own analysis/interpretation based on these songs but feel free do use this yourself if you want!! And also feel free to disagree/correct me on anything!! I’m not a professional musical analyst lol and I did take some inspiration from already existing interpretations for the more lyrical songs.

here’s the playlist btw

“Introduction to the Snow”—introduction to the album. Fitting for the playlist’s beginning, seeing the tone. It’s mostly referencing (self-imposed) isolation.

“Dream Sweet in Sea Major”—this Miracle Music’s whole album is about dreams and reality, how they clash, loneliness and the wish to be close to someone, yet still remaining isolated. Very whimsical, metaphorical, melodic, and it has this vibe as if on the edge of consciousness. I’d say it fits quite well with c!Ranboo’s general vibe. This song in particular deals with sleepwalking(ha)/being in a dreamlike state, the line between what’s real and what’s not blurred.

“The Mind Electric”—oh this one fits Ranboo extremely well. First part is in reverse, the second in normal (mirroring), and it can get quite unsettling. Like you’re not sure what’s happening with the instrumentals, many different voices. Again, very metaphorical, but to put it shortly, the protagonist is being judged for a crime they’ve committed and, in their defence, they say: “Father, your honor, may I explain, my brain has claimed its glory over me; I’ve a good heart albeit insane”. They get “condemned to the infirmary” for that, where electric shock is used on them as a form of “therapy”. As a result, the protagonist loses grip on reality and themselves and truly does go insane. They beg for mercy and sympathy, but there’s no one to help them. “Someone help me; Understand what's going on inside my mind; Doctor I can't tell if I'm not me”—need I say more, really?

“Live and Let Die”—the phrase “live and let die” means to live your life how you wish and let others live how they wish without interfering. At first, you live by the phrase “live and let live”, meaning you have your ideals and you try to change the lives of others according to them, but as life progresses, you stop caring as much/try to distance yourself from others’ business.

“Turn the Lights Off”—dreams and nightmares. Mildly foreboding yet energetic. The actual meaning is about growing up (transition from childhood to adulthood), but we can take some other interpretations that’d fit with Ranboo’s character better. This Tally Hall’s album deals with differences, black and white, and how there shouldn’t be a divide between them. In this song, there are some noteworthy lines that I’d like to mention:

- “Bend the nightmare, you control it; Artful dodger, easy does it”—lucid dreaming, you have to be careful with it so as to not lose control.

- “Shut the closet, get under the covers”—you’re afraid of something and instead of facing it and seeing whether there even is something to be afraid of, you hide.

- “Turn the lights off”—confront your fears. It can also mean that in the dark, there’s no differences between people, going back to the album’s meaning.

- “And everybody wants to get evil tonight; But all good devils masquerade under the light”—this could mean that everyone has a darker part of themselves but those who actually indulge in their dark tendencies do so in plain sight by pretending to be someone else.

“Ruler of Everything”—the main theme here is time and how it’s the “ruler of everything”; time doesn’t matter about where it goes, and it will never stop. The second verse is most interesting to me—there are two singers, man and time, but for the sake of interpretation let’s just see it as two voices. One is obsessed about being liked, fitting in, constantly asking for reaffirmation (“Do you like how I walk? Do you like how I talk?”), while the second criticizes the first (“You practice your mannerisms into the wall”). They argue—”I’ve been you, I know you, your facade is scam; You know you’re making me cry, this is the way that I am”. The second is calling out the first for not being honest to himself. Tone is lighthearted but with an edge of unease.

“Merry-Go-Round of Life”—from Howl’s Moving Castle soundtrack. The title’s self-explanatory, I’d say.

“Killer Queen”—this one’s a harder one to interpret in regards to Ranboo lol. The song is about, based on an interview with Mercury, a high class woman that likes to indulge in her various desires (mostly sexual). I would doubt that’s what Ranboo was going for, so! Perhaps about a person that has no regards for their reputation and instead does whatever they feel like it? They have a certain image but still act however they like. Yeah, not too sure about this one :’) But that’s what I’ll go with for my later analysis.

“Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked”—quite straightforward. A person that performs bad deeds has reasons for them. Not excuses, but explanations, and you can sympathize with it. We all do “bad” things for one reason or the other, and, in the end, we’re all just trying to get by. Once again, plays into the theme of there not being a clear distinction between good and bad.

“The Bidding”—another harder one to interpret. On the surface, it’s about an auction where men are trying to sell themselves to women. They all present themselves in different images, and it’s remarked that the women care less about the date and more about the prospect of it, the pretty words. The date, actually, ends up being disappointing. Could be about expectations. Some men outright admit they’re assholes so whoever chooses them should know that. People can tell you what their intentions are from the start so if you end up hurt, you have no one else to blame but yourself.

“A Mask of My Own Face”—another interesting one! Unusual instruments, strong beat. They’re singing about how they have a desire to pretend to be someone else while secretly still being themselves. “I’d rob my own apartment and I wouldn’t give a damn; I’d blame it on the person that nobody knows I am”—implying they have no regard for their own livelihood and are just out to have some fun. Plus, that no one would be aware it’s all an act. “I'd wear it on Thanksgiving and I'd laugh in the parade; At all the people hissing, knowing I'm the one they hate”—they take delight in the idea of upsetting others and them not knowing it’s actually the singer that they should be hissing. “And at the big finale I would tear my face away; And smile as they grip their own and try to do the same”—everyone wears masks, and this person implies that their mask and their true self is not different from each other while others’ are.

“Stardust Crusaders”—soundtrack from Jojo. Action-packed? idk never seen it sorry lol

“I Can’t Decide”—oh, this one’s a doozy! One of the ones that do not fit c!Ranboo at all, but that’s what makes it interesting. A classic, the singer is out to have fun, very lighthearted and yet they’re singing about murder. The protagonist here is clearly mentally unwell and they’re indecisive whether they should let their enemy/toy/(up to interpretation) live or not. Some curious lines:

- “It’s not easy having yourself a good time”—in the context of the song, that “good time” implies something wicked.

- “I’m not a gangster tonight, don’t wanna be the bad guy, I’m just a loner, baby, and now you’ve got in my way”—they don’t view themselves as “bad”, however, the next two lines are paradoxal—the singer says they’re alone and yet decide to “mess around” with whoever comes up in their life.

- “No wonder why my heart feels dead inside, it’s hard and cold and petrified”—signifying lack of empathy.

- “It’s a bitch convincing people to like you”—they don’t actually want to do that and see it as a bother.

“Stranded Lullaby”—back to Miracle Musical, back to the theme of isolation. Super lyrical, super musical. They talk about how their memories float around aimlessly in their head, a sea, and may sometimes get lost. The protagonist, a sailor, is losing touch with reality and can’t tell apart what’s a dream anymore and what’s not. They question what they’re going through and why.

“Hidden In The Sand”—a song about longing, in my eyes. The protagonist sings about how “you” love things and how he wishes to love the same things, in the end admitting that “all I’ve wanted was you”. They don’t wish to be separated, they wish to have someone in their life that they could love.

“Now I’m Here”—euphoric. They sing about how they’re alive again, thanks to one specific person. I’m not gonna go too much into this one (partly because it’s a more difficult one for me again, partly because it’s Queen and I don’t wanna uhh talk nonsense on accident lol), but what I got from it is that when one one else saw them, someone did, and they made them “live again”, and now as a result the protagonist is devoted to them.

“&”—really highlights Tally Hall’s album’s theme of black and white and that there shouldn’t be a divide. The repetition of comparing opposites is present throughout the entire song (Weak & Strong & Wet & Dry…) and it’s heavily implied we should “say goodnight” to this mindset. But people love to choose sides, put things into good or bad categories. By the line “They took a lesson from their fathers” it’s implied that people don’t develop this mindset by themselves and are rather influenced by others around them. The whole album is titled “Good & Evil” and Tally Hall examines and criticizes this idea. If we keep dividing people into good and bad, eventually, we’ll all destroy ourselves.

“I’m Gonna Win”—a song about someone who’s struggling to get by. “Sometimes it can seem like a merciless dream”—life can get really hard and the protagonist wonders “what’s really worthwhile”. In the chorus, whoever, they declare that they’re “gonna win” no matter what. They might get “bloody and bruised” but they won’t give up until they “won’t be abused” and until they’re “laughing alone”. No matter how hard life/others kick them down, they’ll keep going. By the lines “It’s hard to be charming and smart and disarming; It’s hard to pretend you’re the best; It’s hard to fulfill everyone’s expectations; It’s hard to keep up with the rest” it’s implied that they find it tiresome to keep up appearances and be liked. It’s challenging to always fit everyone’s expectations, but they’ll continue doing whatever they have to to “win”.

if ranboo ever adds more songs to his playlist, i may add them here too :) 

Luke Alvez x Reader: Wedding Day

Prompt: You and Luke’s wedding day. 

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau​ , @alvezstan​ , @lcvischmitt​ , @ogmilkis​ , @goldenalvez​ , @ssa-morgan​ , @garcias-batcave​ ,  @akimagies​, @zhangyixingxing1​ , @pinkdiamond1016​ , @yourwonderbelle​ , @rachelxwayne​ , @sc4rletw1tch​ , @moreidultrastan​ , @ellvswriting​

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

A/N: this made me SOFT wow, here’s some fluff no one asked for. i also had body parts by yoke lore playing on repeat while i wrote this to make me extra soft, so if u need a soundtrack to this imagine- that’s it!!!

“You did it up all wrong,” Rossi sighs with a little chuckle, gesturing at Luke’s tie from a spot behind him in the mirror. “Look Matt, he did it backwards. He’s nervous.”  

“It’s hard in the mirror.  Just tie it for me then,” says Luke, rolling his eyes as Rossi bats his hands away and begins to loop his tie properly.

Behind them, Matt paces dramatically with a notecard in his hand.  “You’re not allowed to be nervous,” he says, motioning towards Luke.  “I’m nervous enough for the both of us!  To be, or not to be,” he continues, outstretching his arm theatrically, and placing it on his forehead for effect, “that was the question that Luke Alvez asked Y/F/N on one fateful night almost a year ago.  My name is Matt Simmons, and I’ll be your tour guide through this emotional rollercoaster–”

“Emotional rollercoaster?” Rossi asks. 

“We’ll laugh, we’ll hope, we’ll cry.”

“Um,” says Luke, eyeing Matt warily in the mirror as Rossi laughs helplessly, “I’d like to say I know you’re just messing around… but you’re just messing around, right?”

Matt opens his eyes wide, looking appalled.  “Absolutely not!  You made a choice, the right choice I might add, asking me to make the big speech.  It’s my moment, Luke. Everyone will be talking about it for years.”

Rossi laughs even harder, patting Luke on the chest once his tie is done right, “There you go. Like a real gentleman. Don’t worry about Matt,” Rossi adds in a whisper. “I’ll keep him in line, I always do. ”

Matt throws them both a dark look, one hand over his heart, before continuing, “Now what… What is real love? Come with me now on a journey and I’ll tell you.  Together, we’ll delve into the love story between two young heart throbs. Charming, sometimes incredibly tragic, but always pure and true.  Our tale begins on the eighteenth of November one cool brisk evening. Luke Alvez was an autumn baby emerging from his mother–“

“You’ve only got like three minutes to talk,” Luke tells him, just in case he was unaware of the time limit on his speech. Just then, Spencer pops his head in.

“Practicing our speeches?” He looks at Luke and raises his eyebrows with an assuring thumbs up.  “Looking good.”

“You’re just in time,” Matt says, pointing at Spencer, “I was thinking you could act out my speech, like performance art.”

“No plays at my wedding!” Luke says, but he’s laughing too.  

Just saying the word ‘wedding’ aloud makes Luke’s heart leap a little.  He starts thinking of how you probably look right now.  You had fussed around nervously all morning, organizing and re-organizing things around the house, cleaning things that were already clean. The same way you always were when you got anxious.  Luke finally hugged you from behind and said, firmly, “Stop.”  

You had rolled your eyes but allowed Luke to tug you down onto the couch, wrapping his arms around you in a bear hug.  “It’s going to be perfect,” He had said.  

Luke then stands up from the chair, smoothing his hair.

“C’mon Rossi,” says Spencer, still lingering at the door, “Your wife sent me in here to get you, she wants to get some pictures beforehand.”

“Duty calls,” Rossi says, smiling lightly at Matt and Luke before following Spencer out the door.

Once they’re gone, Matt grins at Luke.  

“You ready for this?” he asks. Luke gives a little shrug. After month building up to this day, it almost feels like a dream – the hum of people collecting in the church, his shiny new shoes, the look in your eyes earlier when you’d said in awe, “Next time I see you, I’ll marry you,” which Luke can’t stop replaying in his mind.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.  Any last words of advice?”

“Yes,” Matt says seriously.  “Four, actually.”  Matt says the words slowly and clearly, “Don’t – mess – it – up.”  

“Like don’t stutter when I’m reading my vows?  Or like, don’t be a horrible husband and drive Y/N away?”

“Both,” says Matt, his face breaking out into a grin.  “See?  That’s why I’m so helpful.”

“Ah,” says Luke, smiling.  “I see.  You’re the master. Thanks, Matt.” He meets his eyes, which are soft and fond.

“You deserve it, brother,” he says. “All of this. I’m so happy for you.”

“Aw,” Luke teases, trying to conceal the lump in his throat, “are you going to cry?”

“I might,” says Matt.  “Your bride certainly will.  She was already looking a bit teary when I left her earlier. We’ve actually all taken bets on how long it’ll take her to start bawling.”  

“What?” Luke exclaims indignantly. “Nobody told me that! Come on, I want in.”

“Sorry, but Kristy said it’s not nice to bet on your own wife’s wedding day tears.”  

“But I’d have the best chance at winning!”  

“Nope, not allowed,” says Matt. “Although I’ll tell you my guess – she won’t last thirty seconds after she sees you.  And it will continue for the rest of the evening.”

“That’s – that’s probably true,” Luke admits. “What did everyone else guess?”

“Tara said she’d cry during vows,” says Matt, ticking them off as he counted on his finger.  “Garcia bet same as me, when she sees you, and Emily thinks she’s already crying.”

“I think I’m with Emily on that one,” says Luke with a little laugh.

Just then JJ pokes her head into the tent, hair piled elegantly on top of her head, gesturing at him.  Matt gives her a charming smile, which she returns.

“Luke, are you almost ready?  Everyone’s waiting!”  

Luke nods as JJ sighs and crosses the floor to hug him, straightening his tie.  

“You look great,” she whispers.

“Thanks,” Luke says, swallowing another lump that rises in his throat.  “Alright, let’s get moving. I can’t be late to my own wedding.”

…

As it turns out, they all lose the bet – you hold it together fairly well, misty-eyed and fond, through most of the ceremony.  It’s Luke who gets teary eyed the moment he sees you turn the corner and start walking down the alter.  Your arm’s latched with Rossi’s and the minute your eyes meet his, the lump in his throat is back, only this time with some tears as well.  

You’re beautiful, in the most elegant and true way.  Your hair is pulled back, complimented by a veil.  Your face breaks out into a huge smile of triumph when you see Luke.  You clutch tightly onto the assortment of flowers in your hand and make your way closer and closer.  

Luke lets out a shaky laugh, trying to cover up how emotional he really is.  After a few moments of just staring, in complete and utter awe, he has to wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket.  

You reach the front of the aisle, kissing Rossi on the cheek one last time before stepping up to the alter.  

Luke can’t help himself.  He’s smiling so wide, his insides bursting with love and affection and disbelief.  He was so lucky.  So so lucky.  

The ceremony’s a blur.  Luke’s head is spinning and it all goes so fast.  Before he knows it, he’s saying his vows, the words falling off his tongue from memory, but they’d really been in his heart the entire time anyway. He’s clutching onto your hand so tight.

The phrase “you may now kiss the bride” is barely audible before Luke’s mouth is on yours, pressing you both together as close as he can.  

It’s after your first kiss that your fingers clutch tightly into Luke’s waist and you’re crying when you pull back, smiling so hard your eyes are nearly closed.  Luke pulls you closer, holding onto you for dear life, his heart is so full he thinks it might explode.  

“We did it,” you breathe into his neck, a secret whisper just for Luke, even as everyone’s cheering and applauding from all sides. It’s almost too much.  He sways against you, arms locked tight around you back.

“I knew we would,” he murmurs, kissing you on the cheek.

Matt’s speech isn’t as bad as he’d promised – in fact, it’s incredibly touching. You, predictably, sniffle and giggle your way through the entire thing, much like the rest of the crowd.  

The day passes in a blur of relatives and champagne, Luke and you slow dancing, Matt and Kristy cozying up together.  Rossi wrapping Luke in a bear hug and muttering “I love you, kid,” with tears in his eyes.  

Luke’s mom, who cried even more than you, pulls you close and whispers, “I’d say welcome to the family, but you always have been.” You hug her with tears prickling in your own eyes, at a loss for words.  

It’s frantic, fast-paced and fun, a sensory overload. Luke barely gets time to eat a slice of his own wedding cake.  He’s not sure what he’s going to remember about the day, but he knows that it’ll be good.  Maybe something with your hand on his back, or the feeling of your cheek pressed to his while you dance, just swaying together under the soft lights.

“Will you kiss me?” you ask Luke towards the end of the night, when you’re almost the last two left dancing.  Luke smiles down at you, cupping your face, eyes incredibly fond.

“Always.”  

Yoooo do you have a post somewhere about your Gotham sona's info?

I have an official post on my RP blog but I can put it here! (I'm debating on removing the tattoos on the ref sheet tbh, but I'm not sure yet X'D)

Name: Sona Bean Xueen

Height: 5'0

Weight: 200lbs

Blood Type: B+

Education: Associates Degree

Which Batman Verse is she from?

My own universe called "Death's Child" I take a mixture of my favorite versions of Batman villains, and heroes and mix them.

Relationships:

Victor Zsasz (Sexual and Romantic)

Edward Nygma (Sexual and Romantic)

Jonathan Crane (Romantic)

Oswald Cobblepot (Friend)

Harley Quinn (Friend)

Waylon Jones (Friend)

Jervis Tetch (Friend)

Harvey Dent (Friend)

Victor Fries (Familial)

Pamela Isley (Friend)

Jim Gordon (Very rocky friendship; He would jail her if given the chance.)

Background:

Sona grew up in normal comfort for the first ten years of her life. The daughter of a low tier mafia henchmen, who ran a red light district building by the name of the "Bucking Bronco" where anyone could get their rocks off for the night, for a price. Her father was a man by the name of Jeorge King.

She was spoiled rotten, but never seemed to quite understand that she was. Clothes, toys, treats, and the like were given to her freely, even by men and women her father worked with. She was happy.

However, one day it all changed. She became ill.

Everyone at birth is scanned in this universe. When you are, it's determined what insurances will cover you, what surgery will be allowed to you, and how expensive treatment costs would be. Sona had contracted an easily curable illness, however her scans at birth showed that she stood a 5% chance of contracting said illness. Treatment was expensive, her father's insurance wouldn't cover the cost, and he began to seek out ways to get money to cover it.

This was the first step into a dark era.

Her father began stealing money behind his boss's back, trying to hit up places that wasn't on the list, and even began selling drugs and illegal weaponry to rival gangs.

One night when Sona was asleep, she awoke to gunshots in her living room. Scared the, now thirteen year old, girl walked down the hall and into the room to see three men in black over her fathers body, a bullet through his head. She held in her scream, her voice a whimper between her fingers. But their ears were sharp, and their voices like venom.

"Hey there little girl," one purred, advancing on the young girl who could only cry, "It's okay... I'm not gonna hurt you... okay well, that's a lie... you see your father's been very, very naughty~ Which means you have just as much to pay for as he does, you know? No hard feelings~"

That night the screams that ebbed from her lips were muffled by the rough assault of her intruders. It ended with a bullet to her gut, in hopes she would suffer as a final 'fuck you' to the King line.

As she lay in a mess of blood, sweat and tears, she choked back her whimpers. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair!

She got up, shaking on her hands and knees, crawling over to her father's corpse. She shook him, desperately trying to wake him, but to no avail. She shook harder.

"Please! Please.... dad, wake up! Please.... I... I need you... I can't.... I can't breath..." she felt blood in the back of her throat, but she refused to die. She had to live. She had to!

The memory is a blur, but that day she was rescued by a young man. A police officer of all things. Peter Gordon. She was alone. She had a decent amount of wealth left behind by her father, an inheritance of sorts. she had to change her name. Leave the old behind. They'd find her if she didn't. So she changed her name to Xueen.

It took six months to repair the damage. She was told she would never be able to have children, but it didn't seem to phase her. She didn't care about starting a family. To hell with what little future she had left. What she craved was revenge.

Revenge came on her 16th birthday. After a few years of underground training, paying hired guns to teach her to use high caliber weapons, and pistols, she finally shot her shot. The men that raided her family home and murdered her father died at her hands. She shot out their knees, broke elbows with sledge hammers, gutted one and slung his entrails over another, she pulled eyes from their sockets, used adrenaline to keep them alive for 48 hours. When the screams finally faded, she sobbed. She finally killed the people that murdered her father.

She had no purpose. She was still going to die. It was just a matter of how long it would take until she died.

But a thought occurred. Those three were just following orders. They were just pawns on a much larger board. There was still a king to overthrow. Her hands clenched into fists, and a snarl laced her lips. There was more to do. She had nothing to lose. Death was already at her doorstep, might as well greet him with an open hand.

She no longer feared death.

Sona invested in stocks which only served to increase her wealth, but by this point her illness had progressed to the point of no recovery. If she'd just gotten the treatment as a child, it wouldn't have progressed this far. She was eighteen.

She hired her own group of thugs, her own gang beginning to form. But they weren't quite up to snuff. She needed someone with more experience in killing... someone who wouldn't hesitate. Someone who would be loyal, and follow her every command. She was getting sicker. She needed someone to be her weapon when she was unable to lift one herself.

A few weeks later she hears of a serial killer. Very proficient. Very lethal. He's taken out a few of her men already, so she dared to see just whom this man was.

And it was then she came face to face with the mass murderer himself. A man decorated in scars along his arms and chest, a sadistic smile trailing over his lips. His eyes had a murderous lust to them, but she could only smile back. He was perfect.

"Hello there, my name is Sona Xueen. Did you know you've been causing me a lot of trouble lately?" she hummed, resting a hand on her chin.

The man advanced slowly his curiosity piqued. Why wasn't she afraid of him? Why wasn't she running?

"Hmm..." he looked her over, a glimmer of a knife in his hand, "Aren't you cute~ what would bring a vulnerable, sweet, young woman all teh way out here~?"

She grinned even wider, "I have a proposition for you... you work for me, you get paid, and you get to kill more than just junkies and my men for a living... work for me and you'll never have to live in filth again! You'll be able to live out any perverted violent fantasy you set your sights on!"

He paused, glancing over the other, then at the knife. After a long train of thought he tossed the knife to the side.

"What'cha got in mind boss?" he chuckled, a dark tone to his voice.

"How does targeting corporate heads sound? They've been very, very naughty, and I think it's about time we send those pig headed shits packing," she smirked.

The other's eyes widened, "A challenge~? I like it!"

"What's your name?"

"Victor. Victor Zsasz,"

She was twenty one.

She now stands at the epiphany of her career. There are ten corporate heads that need to roll, and five have already crumbled. There are five left to snuff out. She grins at the thought. The thought that her revenge will not only satisfy the violent lust in her stomach, but that there will never be children that are forced to go through what she had. Parents will never have to suffer losing their children. Parents will never be forced to resort to extreme measures to ensure their safety and well being. People won't have to die over a system designed to kill them.

She coughs. Her chest hurts. A pain shoots through her entire body. She's surprised she's lived this long. Perhaps it's spite? Or anger? Perhaps it's her wanting to live just a bit longer so she can spend time with the friends she's made along the way.

She feels a hand on her shoulder as she's lifted into a strong pair of arms. It's Victor. He wears a goofy smile as he always does around her. She lets out a satisfied sigh. For now everything is okay. For now everything is normal. One day she'll die. One day Victor will make sure that he's the one to do it. He's vowed. He's promised.

She's somehow made it to thirty.

That's basically everything I have on her so far! I have a few comics planned to go into detail of her relationships with some of the rouges she's closer to. Like Victor as her lover and weapon, Riddler as her informant and occasional sex partner, Mr. Freeze as her father figure, Penguin as a very dear close friend, and her strange friendship with Jim Gordon because of his father saving her life. There's a lot of puzzle pieces I'd rather fill in with art and pictures rather than story format, but I hope you enjoy her lore!

Obsession {Thranduil x F! Reader}

Authors note: So, this is a more happy-ending version of my Thranduil fic ‘Crazy’. It is nearly three times as long and my best fic yet (in my opinion). Note: I am writing a part two that will have smut if anybody is interested in that.

Warnings: Yandere themes, obsession, nothing too crazy

Word Count: 3043

Part Two (Smut)

The sun spilled over the tree branches, golden light highlighting a halo around her head. The aged book made her hands look so delicate and small as she read page after page, her mind far from reality as she delved deep into old lore. She was perfect. Thranduil stared with infatuated eyes, his chin propped up on his hand as he watched from a few trees away from her. Her features were ethereal, it seemed impossible for her to be human, but Thranduil knew she was sadly so. 

He watched as her concentration was broken, the change in her eyes as she drifted back into reality, confusion overtaking her features. Listening closely, his eyebrows furrowed as he heard several females walking down the path, their high pitched cackles filling him with disdain as he watched her slowly rise. 

“She’s such a bore!” The taller one groaned, holding her arms over her head to cool off from the sun’s heat. 

“She never wants to do anything, she only wants to stay at home and read her books.” 

Her expression changed from excited to confusion, hurt lacing over her features as she rested her head on the thick oak’s trunk. 

“I don’t see why you both keep trying to invite her out then,” The smaller one spoke to the other two girls, huffing her hair out of her face. “You only asked her to be your friend so you could possibly court her brother instead,” She reminded, “-And then he died with the rest of his travelling company whilst going to Esgaroth.” 

Biting her lip, she sank back to the ground, clutching her book to her chest. Unshed tears lining her eyes as she processed the conversation she heard. 

“Interesting…” Thranduil mumbled, a smirk forming on his face. “She’s even better than I thought.” 

Thranduil watched as his angel packed up her belongings, her gentle smile now replaced with a narrow frown as she disappeared from his sight.

“Soon my starlight, very soon.” He promised, as if she was upset about having to leave him. 

.

.

.

The market was scuttling, people scurrying from one stall to the next, filling their wooden baskets with produce and trinkets to take home. The air was filled with the smells of sauces and freshly baked goods, the hollars of vendors trying to sell their goods filled your ears as you slipped through the crowd, your empty basket clutched to your chest as you avoided getting trampled over by the crowd. 

Taking a deep breath, you smoothed out your skirt before you approached your favorite vendor, the farmer. 

“Good morning Lady (Name)!” He greeted happily, finishing wrapping up some freshly made cheese. 

“Good morning,” You responded with a small smile, examining the lettuce. “I have a deal going on today, five items for one silver coin.” 

Your eyes widened in shock, “Really?” You questioned as you felt your smile widen as well. “Must’ve had a wondrous harvest then?” You asked as you grabbed lettuce, a tomato, a few carrots, and a stock of celery. 

“Wondrous indeed.” He smiled at you as you passed him the coin from your purse. “Well, may good harvests continue to find you.” You bid your farewell as you move further down the market stalls.

“Oh my…”

“Is that--”

“King Thranduil!” 

The crowd was reduced to gasps, everyone bowing once they saw their king approaching on his mighty elk. A small gasp left your throat as you saw him approach, carefully adjusting your skirt to bow as well. Thranduil held a gentle smile on his face, waving away everyone’s formalities as he dismounted. 

“Now now everyone, no need to get into a fuss,” He teased as he began looking through the stalls, a thoughtful expression on his face as everyone went back to their business. 

“Looking to start a new project?” Old Lady Idra questioned you as you approached her stall, eyeing the silvery blue ball of yarn. “I was thinking of making a new blanket for my bed, the winters have been getting colder and colder,” You explained, looking at her selection. 

“Is that so?” Thranduil’s voice startled you, making you drop the yarn ball you were holding. 

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Thranduil apologized while he picked up the yarn ball, carefully placing it in your hands. 

“Oh no, no need to apologize, My King.” You bowed your head in respect, moving to get out of his way so he could examine Idra’s stall.

“No need to move, I apologize for interrupting. I was concerned when you said the winters are getting colder?” Thranduil frowned slightly when he noticed you wouldn’t look him in the eye. 

Carefully tipping your chin upwards, Thranduil grinned when you finally made eye contact. A blush formed on your cheeks as you smiled back. The smell of him filled your nostrils, his beauty stunning you from being so close. A warm feeling bloomed in your stomach as you two locked eyes. “Ah,” Snapping yourself out of your trance, you nodded, fighting the urge to drop your gaze. “Yes, the winters are getting colder. At least on the northern tip of the kingdom...” You explained carefully, not knowing how the southern half was faring weather wise. 

Nodding Thranduil removed his hand from underneath your chin, fighting the ever growing urge to pull you into his embrace. Your voice rings like a beautiful melody in his ears. “Well, thank you for letting me know. I will arrange for more firewood to be sent up north when winter gets closer.” 

Nodding, you gave him a smile as he stepped away from you, Lady Idra watching with a quirked brow.

“Well… I better get going.” You announced, giving him and Lady Idra a nod, fishing through your purse to pull out a few coins to pay for your yarn. 

Thranduil’s larger hand overshadowed yours however, placing a gold coin on the counter. 

“Have a wonderful day, ladies.” Thranduil dismissed himself, giving you a fond smile, his hand twirling a strand of your hair before he made his exit. 

“What in Valar’s name did you do to catch the King’s eye?” Idra questioned, a knowing smile on her face as you shook your head, a vibrant flush on your face. “I wish I knew,” You laughed softly, holding your basket close to you as you bid her farewell, you too exiting the market.

.

.

.

.

.

The day felt like it went by in a blur, thoughts of Thranduil drowning your being as you rested your head against the wall above your bed. Your knitting needles and yarn being long forgotten. The memory of his smell, his beauty and the intensity of his gaze now burned into your mind.

“Thranduil,” You mumbled, the very mention of his name soaking your tongue like fine wine as your mind wandered, daydreams of a future together blurring your reality. 

“How I wish you were mine,” Your eyes slowly opened, half-lidded as you stared out the window. The kingdom standing proud amongst the trees, a demented sigh leaving your lips as you reached out to press your hand against the cool glass.

---

“King Thranduil,” Thranduil’s advisor knocked softly on his study door, opening it once he received a grunt in response. “You asked to pull all documents pertaining to (Name), of (Father Name)?” 

“Correct.” Thranduil’s advisor knew not to question his reasoning for wanting such documents and handed them to him. “Here they are. Birth records, land deeds, reports, anything and everything that mentions her name.” 

“Thank you, you are dismissed.” 

Searching through the documents, he felt closer to you than ever before. Knowing where you were born, how large your family was, what you did for a living, who you lived with, if you were married. He couldn’t wait to ask you more personal details though, things that aren’t documented.

Did you prefer white wine or red? What books were your favorites, and why? What did you love to do on a rainy morning? Who did you love? 

A coy smirk formed on Thranduil’s face as he sat down the documents. Remembrance of your smile, the blush forming on your rosy cheeks, the lovely sound that is your voice consumed him. Looking out his window, Thranduil imagined what your home looked like in the north, how desperate he was to be by your side at every waking moment. 

“My queen will soon be home, where she belongs.” Thranduil vowed, making servants passing by pause in fear. Fear for the life that would be disrupted as a result of a toxic obsession. 

“Very very soon.” He muttered to himself as he filled a goblet full of a blood red wine. 

That night you were left restless, wanting to lay in bed with your eyes shut as your imagination wandered through crafting scenarios with your beloved. 

As dawn rose you lifted your eyes from their curtain of darkness, watching as hues of dark blue shifted into ones of gold and red, a gorgeous sunrise to soften the blow of reality. 

A frown etched on your face. “He’s a king,” you reminded yourself, “At least you can dream…” You recalled the words of your so called friends only a day ago, “He wouldn’t want such a bore anyways.” 

Fetching your shawl, you covered your shoulders from the cold as you walked down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Cutting up your tomatoes, you jolted as you heard the doorbell ring, wincing as you felt your blood rise to the surface of your finger.

Cursing you brought your finger to your mouth. “Coming.” You called out, pulling your shawl tighter around you as you moved to open the door. 

“King Thranduil?” You gasped, pulling your finger out of your mouth. “W-What do I owe the pleasure?” You questioned, realizing just how much of a mess you looked in front of him. “My apologies, I wasn’t expecting anyone…” 

Thranduil had to pause. The way the early morning sun hit your bare collarbones, how your hair was slightly ruffled from sleep and so carefree looking pulled at his heart. Clearing his throat he gave a small smile. “Forgive me for showing up unannounced, I wanted to check to see if you slept alright? Last night was particularly cold and I recalled you saying your blankets were no longer adequate.” 

“Oh!” You shook your head with a smile. “I didn’t get much sleep I’m afraid, but I was plenty warm.”

Thranduil heard every word you spoke, but his attention was now focused on your hand cradled to your chest. “You’re hurt.” 

“Ah, yes… The bell startled me, I was in the middle of preparing breakfast when you arrived, I knicked my finger,” You held up the finger, showing the perfectly rounded bulb of blood on the tip. 

“Oh my… Because of me,” Thranduil surmised, moving to carefully hold your hand in both of his, successfully pushing his way into your home. 

“Oh no, not at all!” You hurried to correct yourself, not wanting him to be upset. 

Instead of responding, Thranduil brought your finger into his mouth, sucking off the blood with a determined look on his face as a blush formed over your cheeks. “Oh my…” You muttered, your heart fluttering in your chest as you gulped. 

“Because I caused your injury, I must atone for your pain… Would you like to join me for breakfast?” Thranduil spoke once he removed your finger from his mouth, concern on his features. 

“You don’t have to do that, King Thranduil, ‘tis no one’s fault but my own.” You smiled, despite your internal self screaming at you for denying his offer. “I wouldn’t want to further interrupt your morning.” 

“I just wanted to help you... I just wanted to be there for you...” Thranduil muttered, dropping your hand, refusing to meet your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I clearly overstayed my welcome.” Thranduil stood stiff, the rejection of your words seeping into him like knives as he moved to open the door and take his leave.

“No, no, that’s not it at all,” You called out, moving to grasp his hand, tugging him back to you. “You’re a king,” You began to explain yourself, “I’m just a lowly girl, a bore… I don’t deserve to even be in the same room as you, much less deserving of dining with you… Do you see?” Your eyes held sadness as you forced yourself to realize your reality. You were just a lowly girl. No chance to be with a king. No matter how your obsession for him threatened to consume you. 

“You see yourself as lowly?” Thranduil furrowed his brows, his heart pounding at your declaration, his heart hurting at the thought of you thinking so lowly of yourself. “My darling, you are a goddess, a gift from Valar…” Thranduil cupped your cheeks, wiping a tear that you didn’t know had even sprung from your eyes. 

“I know you don’t know me well.. But… I want to tell you I love you until my throat bleeds. I want to hold you close on dark endless nights, make love to you until the sun rises, celebrate feasts of starlight with you until time itself ends.” 

“King Thranduil---”

“Thranduil, just call me by my name my starlight,” Thranduil all but begged, pressing his forehead against yours. 

“T-Thranduil… How long have you felt this way?” Your heart was erratic, your soul howling for joy at the thoughts of your love being requited. 

“Since the moment I laid eyes on you, darling.” 

Instead of responding with words, you responded with action, pulling him closer by the nape of his neck, your lips coming together in a passionate dance. 

“Let me love you?” Thranduil questioned against your lips, relishing in the feel of your skin against his. “Always,” You mumbled in response, pulling away ever so slightly, brushing your noses together as he tugged you closer. 

The past week felt like a blur, after Thranduil confessed his love for you, you two have been inseparable. Your belongings were moved into his castle that evening, and your life changed overnight. 

Going from wearing homemade skirts and dresses to luxuriously made dresses just to your measurements, you felt like a princess in a fairytale. 

“Lady (Name)?” A servant called from outside, worry clear in her voice. “Yes?” You responded after putting on the earrings Thranduil gifted you the first night you stayed in his castle. 

A relieved exhale left her, knowing you lived through another night. It was no secret what their king did to the brides that refused his ‘love,’ nor was it a secret of how brutal their endings were. 

“King Thranduil requests you join him for breakfast.” 

Smiling you brushed your hair with your hands one last time. Excited to know he wanted you to be with him. 

“I’ll be out in a moment, is he in his study?” You questioned, knowing he liked you two to eat outside of prying eyes. 

“Yes m’lady.”

“Wonderful, thank you.” You smiled despite the fact she couldn’t see you, listening to the sounds of her feet pattering down the hall until she was gone.  

Walking down the hall, you smiled at each servant you passed, waving slightly as you maneuvered the twists and turns of the labyrinth of a castle. 

“Thranduil?” You called out, your knuckles rapping softly on the door of his study. The sounds of books falling over within his study made you jump. “Thranduil, are you okay?” You questioned, pushing open the door. 

“No!” Thranduil yelled out, turning to push you back as you began to enter. 

“My love, what’s wrong?” You questioned again, fear in your eyes as he looked at you wildly.

“You weren’t supposed to get here so quickly…” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, looking to the mess of books on the floor behind him. “I’ll help you clean up and we can have breakfast okay?” You reached out to cup his cheek, a smile on your face. 

Thranduil’s wild expression dissolved as your hand touched his cheek, nuzzling into your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. 

“I’ll clean it up, don’t worry about it my starlight, it’s okay,” Thranduil urged you away from touching them, causing you to laugh. “It’s okay darling, I don’t mind, it’s not like they’re going to hurt me,” You joked as you sunk to the floor to pick them up. 

‘Immortality,’

‘Necromancy’

‘Human Mortality’ 

The book titles made you curious, tilting your head as you lifted them up. Then you noticed how quiet Thranduil had become. 

Placing them back on the bookshelf, you turned to face him only to jump, noticing how close he was to you. 

“Thranduil?”

“What do you think of those?” Thranduil questioned, memories of his previous love’s voice alarming in his ears, the refusal of his affection still stinging his heart despite having a new love to focus on. 

“They are… interesting topics,” You smiled, not too sure where he was going with his questioning. 

“What if…”

You tilted your head as he struggled to seem to find the words to say to you, his chest beginning to heave with panic.

“Thranduil, my love, calm down…” You spoke softly, rubbing his arms up and down.

“What if… I was able to find a way to make you immortal… To be with me forever?”

Your silence was deafening, Thranduil’s own thoughts began to swirl in his head as you struggled to find your words.

“You love me that much? That you want me to be with you forever?” You questioned, your stomach flipping, your insides feeling warm as happy tears sprung up in your eyes.

Thranduil’s eyes snapped to yours, his thoughts of rejection and murder leaving him as he processed your reaction. “I’ll do whatever it takes if it means we’ll be together forever, my sweet.” He responded while wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I’d do anything for you,” His words were laced with honey yet lined with barbs, the meaning of his words sweet yet unnerving as he pulled you into his embrace. 

“I love you,” You mumbled into his chest, moving your own arms to embrace him in return. Your words shooting lightning into him, his eyes widening as euphoria surged through his being. 

“-And I you.”

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Part One: Tough Love. (Bad Boys S09E07)

Episode Summary: When an old friend of Dean’s asks for help to solve a murder, Sam and the reader discover that the older Winchester as a secret past—one that will help solve the hunt. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 4.591.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Silence was a rare occurrence in the bunker, even more so when everyone was home. Despite the place being vast and wide with countless rooms to occupy, you and the boys typically stuck with the same out of functionality and comfort. One room in particular quickly turned into a personal favorite among all of you when you moved in almost a year ago. The library was the perfect spot to get research done for an upcoming hunt and lounge around with a drink after a job well done. It was also the only spot where it was impossible to hear actual quietness. No sounds of talking or obscene noises that ruined the reason why Sam wanted to be here in the first place.

Out of all the rooms the bunker had to offer, it was obvious to Sam the library was his most favorite of it all. Just like you and his brother. You enjoyed it for the perfect atmosphere that it brought for research. Dean loved the comfy chairs and expensive liquor he drank on the odd occasions. It might have  been easy to guess that Sam loved the library for the several shelves of books on lore. A hunter's dream come true. While that was part of it, there were little gems spread around that had caught his attention. First editions of classic novels he heard of before, and a few he discovered by accident. Sam forgot the last time he was able to read a book that wasn't for learning about a monster or figuring out how to undo the mess of Heaven. All he wanted to do was sit down with a good book and just relax. Today felt like the day he might be able to do that. 

Sam called out his brother's name first, a few seconds later it was followed by Kevin's. His answer was dead silence. A smile crept on the edges of his lips when he stepped into the library to see that it was perfect. You looked up from your laptop when you heard Sam's voice break your concentration from what you had been working on. Dean was off somewhere else while Kevin decided to work on the translations in a different part of the bunker, hoping a change of scenery might help him focus better. You turned your attention back to the laptop to continue working, filling the air with the sounds of your keyboard tapping. A familiar tune that brought the younger Winchester back to his college days. Sam decided to join you.

Sam made his way over to the bookshelf, the exact one he'd come in here for, and glanced over the several battered hardcovers. He pretended to casually gloss over the titles as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure his brother was still gone. You wouldn't have cared about the fact that he plucked off a red cover novel that he couldn't stop thinking about. One with a familiar title of a land you both had thought was fictional. Filled with characters by the name of Dorothy and the Wicked Witch, who were in fact real people. Sam had been itching to read the series for himself to get a taste of the real magic, a fraction of the adventures Charlie was having in Oz. 

Sitting down in the chair nestled in the corner, Sam happily got himself comfortable and opened up the book to the first page, with a little too much eagerness for a series that was supposed to be written for children. No one was too old for a classic tale. However, right before Sam could even read the first word, he overheard a noise over your typing and occasional clip from the trackpad. It sounded like vibrations. A slight annoyed look crossed his face at the disruption. It only deepened when Sam watched as you continued to sit there, mindlessly scrolling through whatever was keeping your attention. Sam passively shut the book a little too loudly. You still didn't acknowledge the vibrating phone on the table across from your own.

"Please, let me." Sam muttered to himself. He set his book aside on another shelf and reluctantly made his way over to the phone. Glancing down at the caller I.D., it turned out to be a number he wasn't familiar with. Not the one to ignore a call, he pulled the charger out from the plug and answered before it could go to voicemail. "Hello?" The voice on the other line was male, and not one he was able to recognize. You finally glanced up from your laptop from what you heard next. Sam smiled to himself at the ridiculous nickname for whomever they were trying to reach. "I'm sorry, there's no Dee-dawg, uh..."

"I got it. I got it." Dean came out of nowhere, seeming to have heard the conversation from wherever he was, and plucked the phone out from his brother's hand. "Sonny, hey. So, what's up?" You shut your laptop and got up from your seat at hearing the one-sided conversation unfold, curious as to who was on the other end. Never in your life did you hear someone use a nickname like that on Dean. You wondered who this Sonny guy was. "All right. Yeah, just sit tight. I'll be there soon as I can." 

You made your way over to the boys right as Dean ended the call. You casually crossed your arms over your chest and sat down on the edge of the table, a little curious as to who contacted him. "So, what was that all about, Dee-dwag?" You couldn't help the smile that crossed your face at the nickname that sounded childish coming out from your mouth.

"Sammy, you remember when we were kids that spring in upstate New York?" Dea tried to spark an old memory in his brother's mind, despite how their childhood wasn't spent in one place for very long. They'd visited so many different places, so many small towns with motels that blurred into the same place. "Dad was on a rugaru hunt. We crashed at the, uh...the bungalow colony with the ping-pong table?'

"Yeah. You disappeared. Dad came back. You were gone. He shipped me off to Bobby's for a couple and went and found you." Sam remembered the details from the time he was twelve. While the small details were a bit fuzzy, there was no forgetting the moments when his father got beyond angry after coming back from a hunt to see disaster had struck. "You were lost on a hunt or something.”

Dean's expression changed at hearing his brother's version of the story that differed from his own, almost like it refreshed his own memory. "That’s what we told you. Right."

"I'm sorry?" You were caught off guard at what Dean said. John was never going to be father of the year in your eyes. He was a lot of things, but a liar was not one of them. You furrowed your brow in confusion. "That's what you told Sam?"

"Truth is, uh..." Dean came clean with the real version of what really happened all those years ago while you continued to listen. You and his brother both appeared to be interested as to why John felt the need to keep up the lie for so many years. What could have been so bad that Sam wasn't able to know? "I lost the food money  that Dad left for us in a card game. I knew you'd get hungry, so...I tried taking the five-finger discount at the local market and got busted. I wasn't on a hunt. They sent me to a boys' home." 

"A boys' home, like a...reform school?" You took a wild guess as to where he ended up for those few months. You didn't understand the need to cover up the truth, and why John let him stay there for all that time. You weren't a personal fan of the way John raised his children, having made a remark here and there over the years, you figured it was for the best to keep some things to yourself. It might have been one of the few moments in Dean's life where there was an actual proper guardian looking over him. Beside Bobby, of course. 

"Yeah, more or less. It was a farm, and the guy who ran it—Sonny—he, you know, he looked after me." Dean told you the rest of the story. You always enjoyed meeting people from the boys' past, it was almost like getting to discover another part of their tangled and strange childhood. 

"Wait." Sam was caught up on one detail as to why the older man was calling out of the blue. People from their past don't call just to say hello, unless there was a problem attached to that greeting in need of solving. "Does Sonny know what we do?"

"Yeah. He's good people. I gave him the number to the Bat Phone, and it sounds like he's got something in our wheelhouse." Dean said. You nodded your head in agreement at the plan. Sometimes people were believers in the supernatural, sometimes it took a strange phenomenon for them to understand. You covered your mouth with your hand when you found yourself letting out a yawn, which didn't go unnoticed. "Hey, you gonna be cool do this, or are you too tired?”

"Yeah, I'm just, uh..." You pushed yourself up to your feet and tried to get yourself to feel more awake. You blamed your sluggishness on the lack of your usual amount of caffeine. There was no way you were missing out on a hunt because you felt tired. "I'll be fine."

Dean wanted to take your word on that alone, but he wanted to be sure. He placed a hand on the back of a chair and balanced the other on the table, leaning down to ask you an odd sounding question. "And everybody's okay with heading out to the Catskills?"

You found yourself looking around the library to see who Dean might be talking to, despite the fact he was making full eye contact with you. You raised your brow slightly and smiled at his behavior. "Unless Sammy has other reservations, we are everybody.”

"Yeah. Right. All right." Dean stood back up into a standing position, pretending like everything was back to normal once more. You didn't see the strange look Sam passed his brother from the way he was acting about a certain someone. "Grab your stuff, and we'll head out." 

You rolled your eyes as you watched Dean make his way out the library to pack a few things for the hunt ahead of you. Before he could get too far, Sam stopped him. He needed to ask a question of his own about the conversation spoken just a few moments ago. "Hey, Dean...why didn't you just tell me you went to a boys' home?"

"I don't know. It was Dad's idea." Dean said. "And it just—you know, the story became the story. I was sixteen."

For some reason you felt like Dean wasn't telling you the whole story. It felt out of character for John to make up some lie to Sam. A parent would most likely make this a teachable moment. Screw up enough and you'll end up in a boys' home for a few months. You looked over at Sam to see he shared the same confused expression as yourself.

+ + +

You weren't sure what to expect when you made it to the Catskills where Sonny's home was nestled in. You heard of homes for troubled youth for behavior and crimes that weren't drastic enough for juvenile hall. An alternative that was the epitome of tough love for kids with parents who reached their end, or for those who didn’t care enough to bother trying at all. "Sonny's Home For Boys'' greeted you and the brothers of the establishment where Dean spent a few months by himself. It turned out to be exactly like Dean said, it was just a farm that had seen better days with a cozy looking home nestled on top of the hill. 

Dean parked the Impala on the dirt road that led up to the house and got out, you and Sam following quickly after. He glanced around the area to see if it might still look the way he remembered. You swore you saw a smile across his face when you happened to glance over his way, the kind someone got when returning to a happy memory. You took a look around yourself to see what made this so special. For a kid who spent his entire life from town to town, stability was something he might have craved. He had his own bed for a couple of months. Dean didn't have to worry about taking care of someone for those two months besides himself...You wondered if that’s why Dean kept it a secret. 

"You were here for two months and Dad couldn't find you?" Sam examined the farm for himself to try and see what was so special about this place that made Dean want to stay. It was another small town with acres of farmland that most likely was taken care of by the boys who stayed here. Not exactly paradise for a sixteen year old who'd been all over the country to settle for a little while.

"Oh, no. He found me quick. But he left me here 'cause I lost our money." Dean told you the reason for his extended stay, following a chuckle like it was all some funny story. You and Sam shared the same unamused sort of expression when the both of you happen to turn your heads to look at one another.

"You were sixteen." You came to the older man's defense to try and realize the punishment was a little harsh for something stupid. When you were at that age, what few months you still had left of teenage bliss, you fooled around and got yourself into deep trouble. Maybe not gambling away food money while your father abandoned you for God knows how long while you were forced to take care of another sibling...still, you felt the punishment didn't fit the crime. "You made a mistake."

"Yeah. I made the mistake." Dean said, seeming to refuse to try and see things from your perspective. "Look, I know how you guys think. None of this was Dad's fault." 

Was it ever in the eyes of Dean? You kept your thoughts to yourself and trailed behind the boys as you made your way up the porch steps. Dean knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before someone answered. It was a middle aged woman who opened up, leaving the screen door as a barrier between you and her. You noticed right away from the stern look on her face she didn't seem too pleased to see three strangers standing on the porch. You figured Sonny didn't tell her company was coming. You spotted the gold cross that hung from her neck, the size of it was too hard not to miss. A holy woman helping run a boys' home. There was nothing scarier than a God fearing woman.

The woman crossed her arms over her chest when Dean offered a friendly smile and a polite hello. "What can I do for you kids?"

"I'm Dean. This is my brother, Sam. And this is our friend, Y/N." Dean introduced all of you. "We're old buddies of Sonny's."

"Prison buddies?" She was quick to judge, causing Sam to clear his throat at the quick escalation of who Sonny was before even meeting him. You softly nudged the man in the ribs and gave him a side-eyed glare before smiling at the woman.

"No." Dean said. "You mind telling him that we're here?"

"I'll go get him." She responded a few seconds later, taking the time to give all of you a once over in some kind of way to make sure you were decent people. Not some strangers from Sonny's past he had all left where it should stay. Dean opened up the screen door and was about to step inside, but she stopped him before doing such a thing. "I just mopped this floor, so you take off those roach stompers."

Not the one to make a bad impression, you and the boys listened, slipping off your shoes so they laid on the porch before stepping inside. Sam felt the need to bring up a small fact about the man who ran this place, finding it rather odd someone who had a run-in with the law now helped troubled youth. "Sonny's an ex-con, huh?"

"What, and we're such angels?" Dean scoffed at his brother's passive judgement on the guy before he got the proper chance to meet him. "Trust me, he's more than made up for it." 

Dean stepped inside the home first with you and his brother following behind. You looked around while Dean took everything in about the place that hadn't changed since the last time he was here almost twenty years ago. The furniture was still the same as he remembered, Sonny even kept the awards in the same spot of their accomplishments. Dean didn't realize how much he missed this place, despite not wanting to be here at first when he was a teenage punk who gave the cop who arrested him a black eye. He might still have the same sarcastic charm and hatred for authority when he was a kid, but there was no doubt in his mind Sonny taught him some valuable lessons during his stay here.

"Dee-dwag!" You heard that ridiculous nickname again, this time coming from the man who gave it to Dean. You saw an older man step out from another room with a wide smile on his face at the sight of the fully grown Winchester.

"Sonny, good to see you." Dean greeted the man with the same happiness in his voice. He embraced the man into a tight hug after meeting up again after so many years apart.

"Hey, you, too, brother." Sonny said. Pulling away, he noticed that Dean didn't make the journey up here alone. He was quick to notice the tall man looming around was the little brother Dean talked so much about. "Oh, and this must be Sam." 

“Good to meet you.” Sam greeted the man with a friendly smile of his own. 

"Back at you, brother." Sonny grabbed the younger Winchester's hand to shake when he stuck it out before dropping it back down to his side. He finally turned his attention to you, trying to put a name to a face. “I don’t believe Dean mentioned you before.” 

"Sonny, this is my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N.” Dean rarely introduced you as such to people. Most of the time it was either hunting partner or family friend to strangers from his past. For some reason he felt the need to tell Sonny the deeper relationship you had with him. "She's a close family friend of ours. We’ve known each other since we were born. Circumstances broke us apart, but we actually reunited back together a year after I left this place." You looked over at him and smiled, the thought of seventeen soon-to-be eighteen Dean was a drastic difference to the man who stood in front of you today. 

"Good for you." Sonny seemed to be proud at hearing Dean had landed himself in a happy relationship. From the way you two looked at each other it was easy to tell he was head over heels in love. "He ain't giving you too much trouble now, has he?"

"Not anymore than usual. But it’s what I signed up for." You joked with Sonny. You lightly tapped Dean on his chest and flashed him a smile. “Good thing I love him.” 

Dean couldn't help the bashful sort of smile that crossed his face at hearing you say those three words to him. Normally they were saved for private moments where no one could hear you. You carelessly tossed them around and meant them. Dean felt a spark of pride hit him out of nowhere for some reason. As if he was showing Sonny he ended up okay for himself.

"So," Dean continued on with the conversation. "The farm looks."

"Oh, please, man. It's barely standing." Sonny brushed off the empty compliment that was just the polite way to make small talk before going in for the real reason why all of you were here. "Only got a handful of kids working around here."

Dean's face scrunched up slightly at hearing that news. When he was here back in the day, almost every bed was taken here with no one left without a job to do as instructed by Sonny. "Why's that?"

"Because these days, the system would rather incarcerate a boy than redeem him." Sonny replied.

"Hey, Sonny, uh," Sam happened to look across over to the dining room to spot the woman who answered the door was lingering around in an obvious sort of way. She was wiping an already clean table with a rag. You could tell she was trying to eavesdrop. Sam made sure to drop his voice to a whisper as he casually crossed his arms over his chest. "You mind if we talk alone?"

"Hey, Ruth," Sonny looked over his shoulder to see she was lingering around for whatever reason why. Maybe she wanted to know why a bunch of strangers from Sonny’s past decided to come by without a warning. "Would you please go check on the boys, make sure their money chores are getting done?"

Ruth hesitantly nodded her head before making her way somewhere far enough away to keep the conversation going without worry. "All right." Dean jumped to the real reason why all of you were here in the first place. "So, what's happening?"

"Well, you remember Jack, do you?" Sonny asked. 

Dean nodded his head. "Yeah. The tough, old leatherneck." 

"Mmhm. Well, somehow, that ancient, rusty, broken-down tractor just roared to life and ran him over the other night." Sonny shared the strange and unfortunate news of an old worker here who suffered a strange and terrible sounding death that was out of the ordinary. 

"Maybe it just slipped out of park or something." You guessed, trying to figure out a more logical reason behind it.

"Couldn't have. You know, I never believed any of this mumbo-jumbo stuff you kids are into, but...something ain't right." Sonny said. His concern made you a little bit curious as to what he meant by all of that. "Well, just things started happening—lights flickering on and off, strange scratching sounds coming from inside the walls, windows and doors slamming."

"All right. You think you can round up the boys while we take a look around?" Dean asked, having heard enough to suspect of what might be going on around here.

"Well, that shouldn't be a problem. Most are home on a break—well, except those with no home worth going to." Sonny said. 

Sonny went on to round up the boys so they wouldn't be around to disturb any of you when you got to the bottom of figuring out what might be going on. "All right. Why don't you and Y/N take the house?" Dean suggested a plan to you and his brother. "I'll check the barn."

The both of you nodded your head in agreement before going your own seperate ways to get a proper sweep of the house. Sam decided to take the upstairs part of the house while you stuck with the downstairs, thinking you might be able to cover more ground that way while Dean stuck with the parts of the farm he was familiar with. You took a sweep of the main parts of the house to see there was nothing out of the ordinary from what you usually looked for in this situation; no EMF, no sulfur and not a trace of a hex bag. Even though what Sonny described was typically signs of a spirit, it didn't hurt to check off all the boxes just to be safe if things ended up not being what you thought. 

Soon enough you made your way into the bedroom area where the boys slept after a hard day’s work. You spotted at least a half dozen twin sized beds spread around the place. Some of them were messy, a few of them were perfectly made. Sonny was right about there not being a lot of boys anymore. You looked around the place to see it almost seemed like any other bedroom. Plenty of furniture, some toys and board games lying around. You realized that this was the exact same room Dean spent two months in when he was sixteen. And you got confirmation he was here when you spotted something engraved into one of the beds.

Your fingers brushed over a hunting symbol carved into the bedpost that was most likely done by Dean himself. A smile crossed your face at the thought of teenage Dean protecting himself from evil while alone from his family, despite it only being his brother and absent father. You crouched down when you spotted some masking tape on the foot of the bed as well, making up as some kind of nameplate. Out of curiosity, you pulled off the first layer, revealing another name that you guessed belonged to another boy who slept in this bed previously. You pulled off another piece of tape, and another, and another until you came across the one you had been looking for—Dean W. 

Your head snapped away from the tape and to the door across the room when you heard rustling that broke your concentration. The door that led to the other room was opened slightly, giving you enough of a bad feeling not to go in there without some kind of precaution. Slowly, you pushed yourself back up to your feet and reached for the knife you kept tucked in the back of your jeans. You made your way over, taking cautious steps when you heard what sounded to be a whispering female voice. You didn’t take into consideration there might have been another bedroom located right next to the boys’, it was a small house after all. And it might have been Ruth’s. You discovered that a little too late. 

You pushed open the door, expecting to find the thing who killed Jack standing across from you, only it turned out to be someone else. You quickly whipped the knife behind your back when you realized it was in fact Ruth. She had been kneeling at her bed before you scared her. "I am so sorry." You quickly apologized to the woman at the accidental mishap, suddenly feeling like a fool for mistaking her whispering for something evil when it was in fact most likely a prayer from the rosary beads that was tight in her grip. "I thought I saw something in—”

"Like a ghost?" Ruth's presumption made you look at her a little funny, wondering how she managed to come up with that conclusion on her own. "Sonny told me you were old friends, but I know why you're really here. That's why I was praying for us."

"Praying for what?" 

"For the ghost that haunts this farm to leave." 

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink  // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner  // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha //   @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink //  @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans //  @icantfindacreativeurl //  @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings // @dream-believe-and-love // @that-winged-rat

Message me if you would like to be added!

woops, may have missed fab friday!! anyway, ive started. so many new wips eueueue ones for a show called The Owl House!!! ahhhh its such a good show so uh warning for the owl house spoilers bc its my brand new obsession

i wanna write an incredibly angsty fic of him so so so basically, belos (the emperor and also his uncle) is an asshole and also just sucks as a parental figure. hes Awful i Hope he Chokes but also skrunkly man !!! so im gonna try and make this fic really angsty and dark and confusing. i want the lines between reality and unreality, dreamworld and waking world,, i want them to be heavily blurred. i want it to be confusing !! i want readers to go "WHAT WHAT WHAT THE FUC-THAT WAS A MEMORY?? holy shit" I WANT IT TO BE SO SAD started outlining it and shit and and im very excited, hes gonna be So extra traumatized its gonna be great. gonna bullshit all my lore bc i love fics where hunter infodumps !!!! its so sweet!!!!! when people are given the space to infodump about stuff that interests them,,, sobs eueueue pos this was. a Mess LMAO hopefully gonna write this soon?? mayhaps?? gonna continue outlining it and finding more plot points but yeah !!! im really excited :] its so fun

so uh!! yeah :D fun updates (wouldve put snippets in,,, if i,,,, actually Wrote them but hey!! im doing something by outlining!!! thats still writing!!!!!!!) (im sorry this is so messy and rambly- :sob:) submitted by @corvid-voidbur

dark and angsty and mind-trippin' dreamworld you say????? 👀 SIGN ME UP THAT SOUNDS AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I also need to check out The Owl House now ;)

Keep up that outlining!!!! It sounds like you have a super cool idea!!!!!

DSMP!OC HEADCANNONS

i dunno if ppl on here make dsmp!ocs for themselves outside art but here’s my long list of headcannons?? idk what to call this, but assume all names have c! before it ofc :]

,, this is kinda messy & probably has a lot of plot holes but i just needed a space to write out all my thoughts LOL

also cw / ment of manipulation & ib: dsmp wiki <3

character origin :

previous life was the l’mantree :D

allegedly planted by schlatt, we will never know who’s my canonical parent(s)

reborn as a dryad after niki burns the l’mantree

i think being a dryad would fit especially since they’re typically nymphs of oak trees :]

appearance :

my character’s mc skin has long light brown hair & is seen wearing a flower crown with petals that are around the color of a pale violet and navy blue

clothing would consist of black shoes & a long light grey sweater that falls down to the legs and covers most of the hands which adorned with 2 black stripes on the upper arms

lore / history :

since my past life was the l’mantree, i would’ve known the ins and outs of the history when l’manburg was still standing, up until niki burned the tree

after witnessing everything, i’d hold a grudge on niki (+ allies?) and loyal to wilbur since he’s the whole person that made a meaning of the land of l’manburg

however i’d still be on edge w any side because i could sympathize with everyone to some extent after seeing some sort of distress from everyone at some point

i think seeing both sides of the spectrum when l’manburg/manburg still stood could change my perspective of some other characters

but at the same time, not everything was completely centered in l’manburg so i wouldn’t know the whole story of everyone’s character

i’m currently writing this just after tommy has left the prison & mostly everyone is treating him differently, so i’d try to befriend him by not showing that i dont care about his past & trauma but also not being fully faithful about our friendship ahaha,,,

he seems like the type that needs someone to see through his past history but tommy would definitely disapprove of my character visiting dream at the prison (i would do it anyway :))

vowing my current life to wilbur, i would help dream escape to revive wilbur & follow along with their plans of chaos

i don’t fully support dream but he is the only way to wilbur, making me comply with dream’s decisions

“growing up” in my past life and witnessing endless conflict, it is the only thing i know and understand; chaos

but i think during the process of helping dream & wilbur i’d keep my connection with them secret, being the person to obtain all the inside information they need

i could see myself as a type of equilibrium like ranboo but in a bad way, i don’t know how to explain it

but i would try befriending ranboo since he seems like he is involved in many things and would know a lot, despite his short term memory

unfortunately i’m not sure how much his character actually knows since i haven’t been able to watch his pov that much but i’m sure there’s a lot in his memory book...

to blend in as a normal person within the rest of the characters, i’d surround myself with connor a lot

not only because he needs more lore, connor is one of the “normal” citizens of the smp so i believe being with him doesn’t bring as much attention to myself, unlike people that’s related to the egg and their noticeable features after associating themselves with the egg

he is currently only on bad terms with techno which is rly good when comparing that to other characters and their relationships with other people

connor could probably sense my real intentions eventually & tell everyone else that i’m not who i say i am but if that’s my flaw & my downfall is caused by connor, so be it! sorry dream & wilbur

i feel like for being a young dryad, i’d still fool around with dream/wilbur & help give tommy an small “advantage” to defeating the two ?

like yes i’m supposed to be on your side but where’s the fun if tommy can’t do anything to begin with?

i honestly don’t know if wilbur was revived he’d actually be his vassal but let’s assume that happens, but either way i’m with wilbur on his decisions

but ya dream seems like the type to punish me for helping tommy and send me to the afterlife to learn & become smarter like wilbur had done or smth

in the end, i just want to give tommy bits and pieces that tease him from ending all the wars and problems he has been faced with

like here’s some info about dream and wilbur but it won’t be no where close to enough

but who knows, ghostbur said ‘villains are just heroes that aren’t convinced yet’ & maybe tommy could eventually grow on me & change my ways,,

maybe me fooling around & teasing tommy with answers he’s been searching for is a way to mask that i want to be a good person

ok but imagine after knowing so much about dream/wilbur, the revive book, & the afterlife & then i switch sides,,,

surely if tommy can’t put and end to them, dream would make sure i’m gone for good instead

but also if me & connor are in good terms & he’s canonically a necromancer & can bring ppl back to life,,,,

personality :

to all besides dream & wilbur, i’d try to act passive and friendly on the outside to get on everyone’s good side

however under the mask i am more mischievous & strive to cause more problems for everyone on the server from the inside out

in a way, i’ve taken up some of dream’s manipulative personality but still very understanding

i’d like to think of my character as a good listener,, trying to do less talking than others so i do not open up about my true self and intentions

i’ve seen rumors about schlatt & mexican dream also being revived along with wilbur & i feel like i’d have some soft spot for schlatt & pick up a few things from his own character, not sure what though

schlatt planted l’mantree theory, dad!schlatt au part 2 !! /j

because of my character’s closed off and quiet personality, i feel like i’d be pretty analytical

i would know how to slip between the cracks with some characters & notice the smallest things to make them question themselves

maybe my character is good at holding their composure, and not that susceptible to being “emotional” in a way so it’s easier to face people

like i understand when a situation is sad, etc but i can’t show emotion towards how i feel about it (i don’t know if that makes sense but ya!)

i wanna try to elaborate more,, like imagine my character before tommy visits the prison, i would be unfazed from when i found out he died to the point he’s released and we find out he’s been revived

everything is a constant blur hehe

i just can’t fully process everything i guess? i dunno if that’s helpful but yeah!

in the end though, my moral compass has been very tainted; despite wanting to show my loyalty, it can be slightly easy to sway me, making me internally feel guilty to other people

but me trying to get on everyone’s good side to impress wilbur/dream to seem useful to them would ruin me before i would even realize that i’m another “pawn”

we know damn well dream is faking it till he “makes it” but yk,,

but i’d be stuck in this kind of dilemma of not knowing what thoughts are my own or just something trickled down from wilbur or dream

there’s like maybe something that clicks in my head like “maybe i wanna think for myself for once” or smth

like who am i really?

powers , bonuses , etc :

since dryads can technically manipulate plants in some ways, theoretically i could control the blood vines to some extent ???

i’m pretty sure dryads can communicate with plants so i could understand what the blood vines are saying as well

maybe i could get a good sense of what the egg is all about and stuff

assuming that i understood anything that was happening with the egg in the first place but anyway—

i guess similar to ranboo like how he can’t really be around water without some type of amour or something, it would make sense for me to primarily reside in a type a forest or be near one ?? who knows

seems a bit morbid in a way because of the whole history but if i can somehow easily get rid of the blood vines without it affecting me (if there is still some there) i think it would be kinda pretty to build a tree base in the middle of the l’manburg crator (iskall tease)

like it can show a sign of some rebirth, not the same government repeated once again but a new era in general

you know how you see like destruction years after it the disaster or smth happened and it gets all overgrown with plants and stuff? ya that’s what i’m going for in my head (mumbo jumbo s7 tease)

i know it’s covered in glass already but i dunno, some broken glass and a giant tree emerging from the whole thing and all the rubble seems cool

i’m not a good builder but i have the vision LMAO

omg puffy is like a sheep human hybrid im pretty sure & like there’s a specific type of dryad that are a protector of sheep & other animals?? i’m not exactly sure but that seems like an interesting element to incorporate somehow

also glatt randomly planting a oak sapling in quackity’s lore stream yes pls feed my nonexistent dsmp character lore /j

i honestly dunno how to incorporate the fact dryads can turn shapeshift into trees when trying to escape something but i read something that if a dryad stays in a tree form for too long they’ll forget who they are and stay stuck as a tree?? which like woah that’s cool & some material but at the same time what—

since everyone’s backstory is kinda a mess, mr beast parent tease bc he planted a bunch of trees /hj

i have realized wilbur saying like “the whole reason i built this nation is gone” & blowing up everything or whatever is kinda a plot hole in like ‘why would i follow wilbur if/when he’s revived when he said this?’ but i’d like to think he was the one that made some meaning of the area lmanburg was on, which includes the lmantree

like he was the one that started everything and created that sentiment of that land, and however he views it now is how i would see it now

he gave meaning to my past life and now in my current life, i feel this obligation to repay him for it

not really lore bc i think it was cc!tommy talking to cc!ranboo about his height & age when he first joined but yk it would funny to make my dsmp character than his just to slightly spite him anyway

canonically 6’4 dryad yes . /hj

also i have no idea anything about hannah and her lore but we do be flower buddies :D

also omg like this isn’t at all important but the way ranboo can pick up grass blocks will just have me at awe, i dunno seems in theme with the forest/plant stuff

and i remember reading like there was something about dryads and apples but i can’t remember but i’d give tommy a bunch of apples /hj

apples am i right chat,,,,,

i’ll just have infinite apples in my inventory, like kill me in game, not like losing lives kinda deal but just in general and boom stacks of apples

“bee i get you’re half tree but do you just poop apples out like they’re nothing??” “girls don’t poop” /j

ok but like no matter how many streams i watch i cant grasp where everything is but omg but no if i was new to the server & stuff, canonically & not, i would feel my character to be the curious kind to explore everywhere

like besides a mini tour from some other person in the server, since my character only knows things in the bounds of lmanburg, i’d go off exploring different places like pogtopia, the sewers, showchester, etc

i feel like my character would be really into history, like they would have questions about what happened to lmanburg after the last war? what was life like before wilbur? what was the whole history about the antarctic empire? i dunno but reading a bunch of books from a library seems really interesting

oh but in theory, me and tubbo are loosely related if you wanna count schlatt as my “dad” because he supposedly planted the lmantree ???

i mean could make sense but it seems like a stretch

also if my character ever got close to schlatt, i’m not sure if this is canon, but i swear one time he mentioned how the whole dsmp sever is just a game/server in a game & he’s the only one that knows that ??? but like imagine if i found that out canonically,,,,,

big existential crisis pls

and i’m not 100% sure how dryad shifting works with like going from female to tree form and stuff but if i’m able to morph into different girls on the server & act as them,,,, the about of problems that can cause in the lore omg

lemme frame niki real quick and get inside information /j

oh ya and like hey bee do you support the government then? yes but no. whatever my “fav” person is canonically (assuming this is based in the beginning of this whole hc) whatever wilbur thinks, i think. head empty. but subject to change as the dsmp storyline progresses and stuff :]

ngl i wanna throw in some like random lore that doesn’t make sense to throw people off but i can’t think of anything

not actually really lore related but my choice of stream music like how ranboo has his undertale stuff that makes everyone cry, i will have in love with a ghost

yup i like in love with a ghost sm & i’m pretty sure their music is like not dmca too which yay but yk theoretically never gonna stream on the dsmp but still a fun aspect to think of bc i love listening to music & it’s very impactful to a story & associating something to it makes it more meaningful :D

like i could imagine the chill pop lofi piano stuff fits witha few lore streams of like exploring the whole smp before my character would really go out with being this lost villain in a way?

tubbo’s gangnam style who?

like i feel like i made my character bad/evil so they could have potential to get better in the future

on one hand, i’ll end up w dream and/or wilbur for the rest of my life, which is okay but i could also switch to be with tommy or even disregard all of them and be with techno/phil or quackity & potentially schlatt even who knows

also i cant wait for more connor lore tho, like as much as i tried to make my character give him more content i wanna see how everything goes with him having connections to schlatt & stuff

anyway i would’ve made concept art for my character but i honestly don’t rly like my art currently but who knows LMAO

and lastly if u read all of this ily /p

i might update this later when there’s more lore but ya

“Beachboys” by McCafferty, except it’s C!Karl Jacobs and the Mr. Beast Crew

I’ve had this idea in my brain... for SO LONG. Unfortunately though, I can’t draw well enough to turn this into an animatic... I’ve also never made an animatic, so... BUT I SURE CAN PUT THIS INTO WORDS. So, this is gonna be C!Karl-centric and heavily inspired by my own headcanons that before joining the SMP, Karl used to live with the Beast Crew (that being Jimmy, Chris, Chandler, and himself). I’ll make a post later with all my ideas, but specifically it comes down to the idea that the four of them grew up together in a small village on a peaceful server, but Jimmy eventually got the idea for a bunch of fun events (kinda like the Mr Beast Videos). As the events grew bigger and bigger, the Beast Crew started traveling around to other servers a lot to put on more events. One would end up being the Technoblade vs. Dream battle, which is where Karl meets the Dream Team for the first time and eventually how he gets invited by Sapnap to come live on the server if he wants. This is all takes places before Karl finds out about being a Time Traveler, but this whole thing is the after with Karl’s memories all blurring together! Be aware, there’s LOTS of C!Karlnap in this with a lot of your usual C!Karlnapity Lore with all the normal sadness:) So if you find this interesting at all, please continue to read!! (Note: this isn’t really a songfic. it’s more like I’m giving you all the lyrics and describing the scenes I keep seeing in my head that way you can imagine it along with me. A bit more messy and chaotic, but still fun!!)

[Jimmy VC, but it’s him breaking down laughing while he yells]   “I swear to fucking God, Chris!   I'll turn this fucking car around!   Shut the fuck up!”

  I don't get parties,   Or getting high,   I just get low most of the time… [Insert Karl walking through multiple scenes— a party, an empty field in front of Kinoko, his friends arguing. It soon cuts to Karl’s upside down face pouting. When it pans out, it shows him hanging upside down off a couch cushion in his cozy home in Kinoko.]   And I'll be there for you, baby [Insert Karl Fingerguns]   But I've got to have some room— [Now insert blushing, semi-smiling Sapnap, then it cutting to them in the future with Karl holding a journal and turned away from Sap as if sneaking away while Sapnap’s turned away from him. Sap’s likely on fire, possibly with his glare aimed towards a shadow of Dream in the distance, or the destroyed Community House.]   And you gotta keep your eyes on the new guys in the room. [Close up on Karl’s eyes darting around nervously]   And the way they dance is crazy,   I have never seen this shit. [Faraway shot of Karl in a room while everyone’s dancing, Chris is one of them and going too fucking hard in the center of it all]   And the strobe light's way too hot,   So let's get this over with. [close up cut, close up cut, close up cut until reaching Karl’s face and a sweat drop rolling down]   She says, "Your lips tasted like they did way back in July" [Sapnap coming to hold his hand. Karl smiles, but there’s a flash of the past with Karl seeing James]   Headaches and overdose,   I hope that we never die… [Karl, overcome by thoughts, pulls away from Sapnap and walks away]

  October's always here, [cut to Karl sitting on the swing in the Inbetween]   November's never leaves, [cut to same scene in the Other Side]   December disappears, [same scene, but Karl’s sitting under a tree in the Overworld, clearly in Kinoko Kingdom.] [He suddenly gets pulled up by the hand.]   She says to me, "Well, I dance really fast, so you've gotta dance real fast, [The scene shifts. Chris is the one holding his hand, grinning brightly back at him and speaking the lyrics. The scene has faded into a past memory way before Karl joined the SMP. The view blurs while Chris tugs him over to what appears to be the dance floor dance with him. Jimmy and Chandler can be seen in the background. It’s a party of sorts in some past city or kingdom they lived in. It’s outside. Chandler is back by the food table, stuffing his face while Jimmy calmly drinks from a cup while talking to someone.]   “And my friends are all passed out in the back of my friend's van," [The scene spins along with a laughing Karl, who’s being twirled around by Chris, into the after where they’re all passed out on top of each other in some barn. Karl’s passed out in a pile of hay on the floor with Chris, who’s fallen asleep sitting up beside him.  Karl’s all sprawled out with his hair a mess and his legs are laying over Chris’s own. Jimmy’s sleeping face up on the haystacks with Chandler flopped face first horizontally above his head on his own two stacks. Chandler’s arm is definitely hanging over the haystack. Chris is sitting closest to Jimmy with his arms crossed, almost like a sleeping guard dog.   And she's got this sexy hair braid that goes over her forehead [Cut to a close up of Sapnap’s forehead and bandana]  Lindsey, let me kiss your forehead... [It pulls back to show Karl standing with a smirking Sapnap. It’s unclear of the time, but this is possibly a flash of the future, potentially hinting this Karl is from the future and time travelled back to the past. Or, it hints that this is right after him and Sap met during the event they held where Dream faced off with Techno and Sap and George would have come as guests to watch. Karl developed a crush on him almost instantly.  Karl’s reaching to brush Sapnap’s hair aside. Their eyes are locked and Sapnap’s smirk is growing, waiting for Karl to finally lean in.  The scene abruptly cuts back to Karl’s eyes snapping open with his cheeks burning red. Then, it shows his POV of a laughing Chris and Jimmy over ahead. Karl looks over, only to see Chandler curled up his side and making kissy lips at him, causing Karl to shriek and jump away.  The scene ends with them all laughing at Karl’s expense while Karl screams at them.]   And I know that you think that I don't care   About all the friends I left behind,   The ones who stay up late at night   Screaming out their shattered minds. [Karl smiling fondly up at his friends, laughing and goofing off above him. Chandler is laughing beside him, staring up at Jimmy, who’s chuckling as he shoves Chris, who’s smirking at some joke he’s made.  When Karl blinks, the scene changes and he’s pulled out of the memory]   I know that you think that I don't care   About all the friends that I left behind, [Suddenly, Karl jolts into a new setting.  He’s back in his house in Kinoko, sitting in a chair. As it pans out, it gives the vibe that he’s been sitting there spaced out for a while. Sapnap and George appear to be arguing, but Sapnap’s attention suddenly falls to him. You can see his lips form, “Karl?”  Karl blinks again, looking up now at a concerned Sapnap holding his face.]   The ones who stay up late at night   Screaming out their shattered minds— hey! [Karl smiles softly, putting his hand over Sapnap’s and alleviating some of those worries. Sapnap seems to relax some, offering his own tiny smile. He takes Karl’s hand, yanking Karl up, who only laughs in return.] [As the camera turns to show both of them, they’re shown laughing and grinning as Sapnap pulls Karl to his feet, it follows them as they fall back into a new frame. It’s their bedroom. Karl giggles as he falls on top of Sapnap.]   And she's on top of me, and it is hot, hot, hot!   She says, "Come on, sweetheart, take 'em off" [Sapnap is smirking up at him. He mouths along with the words.]   So I will take 'em off, and then we take 'em off, [Karl grins in return, cheeks pink as removes his sweater, tossing it aside.]   And then her dad walks in —   ...oh shit, her dad walks in. [Just as Karl’s about to lean down for a kiss, Bad bursts through the door, beaming brightly as he seemed to be announcing his visit.  Cut to a full view of the room. Karl and Sapnap are frozen in place, both visibly blushing as they stare wide-eyed at each other. They’ve been caught.  Bad freezes, dropping probably like a casserole or something he made for them before screaming at them.  As the second line plays, it cuts to a close up to Karl nervously sweating with an “I’m gonna die” smile while Bad’s definitely screaming from the side.]   She says to dance really fast, "'Cause I like to dance real fast, [Hard cut to a new scene. It’s Karl dancing with Sapnap. They’re at a party, likely in the past.  It’s obvious as Karl’s passed around, spinning from Sapnap’s arms to a smirking Quackity in his OG outfit, though when Quackity winks at him, his eye flashes to show a pale blue eye and a long scar. It disappears before Karl can even panic and Karl’s being spun forward.]   “And my friends are all passed out in the back of my friend's van" [He passes Dream and George. Dream has a drink in one hand and his other arm is around George’s waist. Dream’s mask is half-tilted to the side, showing him and George smirking back at a stunned, delighted Karl.]   And she's got this sexy hair braid that goes over her forehead.   Lindsey, let me kiss your forehead. [He spins back into Sapnap’s arms, who grins back at him. Karl instantly melts, all concerns forgotten as he reaches to cup Sapnap’s face.  Just as he leans it for a kiss, the scene pans upward into the night sky.]   And I know that you think that I don't care   About all the friends I left behind,   The ones who stay up late at night   Screaming out their shattered minds. [It drops back down, panning down to Karl, standing still and alone with a weapon in hand.  The view spins around to his POV, showing Sapnap, George, and Quackity all yelling at Dream in what appears to be El Rapids.]   I know that you think that I don't care   About the friends that I left behind,   The ones who stay up late at night   Screaming out their shattered minds... [The scene pans around again. This time, it’s him and Sapnap in front of a scarred Quackity.   Quackity has a poker chip in hand. Las Nevadas can be seen looming behind him. Sapnap has an arm around Karl’s waist. He looks furious to the point of almost combusting while Karl looks terrified and worried all at once.  Quackity flashes them a wicked grin, his scar stretching as he flips the chip in hand.]   “It's always a head game with you, Nick!   You've never had a shot at any of this!   So just smash your guitar!   Smash your dreams!   Grow up now is just what I mean!” [Quackity opens his mouth to yell at Sapnap in time with the lyrics. (lmao Sapnap “Nick” moment)  Quackity keeps yelling, causing Sapnap’s temper to flare further and further until he’s shoving Karl away to step forward. He’s surrounded by flames as he approaches Quackity. He steps out a frame, leaving behind a stumbling Karl, who falls down into a sitting position.  He curls up into a tight ball, trying to block out the arguing overhead as the surrounding world fades to darkness.] [Suddenly, the world cuts.] [When Karl looks up, he sees Chris above him. Chris is looking down at him with a disappointed, but also slightly pitying smile. He offers out a hand, which Karl takes, still slightly trembling as he stands.  The surrounding world brightens slowly, coming back to a familiar scene for Karl.  It’s Jimmy’s old living room from their time when they once all stayed together before Jimmy became well-known, Karl moved to the SMP, and long before Karl’s adventures with time began.  Chandler’s sprawled out on a couch in the background. Jimmy’s shown sitting on the far end of the couch with Chandler’s head on his thigh.  Chris and Karl don’t seem to acknowledge them. Chris is too busy looking at Karl and worrying about him while Karl’s forced to meet his eye.]  It's always a head case with you, Nick,  You've never had a shot at any of this.  So just smash your guitar,  Smash your dreams,  Grow up now is just what I mean, oh… [Chris begins to speak with the lyrics, causing Karl to avert his eyes towards the ground in what appears to be shame.  The camera follows his face for a moment before returning to a concerned Chris, who puts his hand on Karl’s shoulder.  Chris isn’t actually reprimanding him. The scene actually mimics a past moment between them where Chris expressed concerns for Karl the first time Karl came home after the SMP, after being gone for months. He’s returned with one less life and his memories fading.  He went home to visit The Boys after a few trips through time to maybe jog some of his early memories, or at least record them before they were lost forever blend together. He can’t remember a lot of his time with them anymore.] [Karl remembers Chris expressing his concerns for him and regretting that moment greatly because when Chris asked what was wrong, he couldn’t be entirely honest.  Now he wishes he was, but it’s too late to change his mind now. He’s forgotten too much to be able to ever safely go back alone.] [As the song fades out with the repeating lyrics, as does the scene itself. It pans out slowly to Karl waking up from what’s now shown to have been a dream.  The camera slowly spins, panning out further as it does to show more of the bedroom.  Karl lays in the center, lying alone in a bed way too large for only him. There’s hints of Sapnap living there too on the nightstand and in the clothes thrown around the floor, but Sapnap’s nowhere to be seen.] Oh fuck… [As the song reaches the last bit, it cuts back to a close up of Karl’s face and him closing his eyes before pulling the blankets over his head.  Even with the light-hearted jokes at the end of the song, Karl remains under the covers and everything cuts to black as the song fades out completely.]

Can I Ask You Something?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |

Friendships are an odd thing. It starts off as an unexpected meeting between two strangers, where you later begin to learn more about this person who was just a stranger a few moments ago, to trusting that person wholeheartedly; to do whatever you can to make them happy. It’s a wonderful thing where you’re in love with said person, willing to hold their hand in public, kiss their cheek, go to them first when you have news of any kind. Where a mere memory of them is enough to make you smile, where after not seeing each other for a moment is enough to make you want to hug them, where you can feel safe in their arms. You meet a person by chance and they end up becoming one of the most important people in your life. Friendships are built on trust. Built on sharing snacks. Built on inside jokes. Built on love.

Your friendship with Tomura, however, isn’t any of that. It’s different than friendships you’ve had before. It was a meeting that you forced and that he complied with. Where you have doubts about the friendship- or whatever you can call this relationship when the word feels to sour on your tongue- and you don’t know what he’s thinking or what he looks like. Where you lay awake after late night talks and can feel a storm brew in your mind as you lay under the covers and think about him. It’s a relationship built on messages and the occasional phone calls. You don’t know if you can trust this person. You want to and sometimes when you hear his laughter, you think that you know him- you can trick yourself that you know who he is. You’re okay with sharing snacks with anybody- you like to share, you like to eat a cake and leave your friends the piece with the most frosting. There are jokes that you’ve two shared- ones where you snort and call him a dork and ones where he laughs- it’s shrill and a bit creepy if you were to be honest- and he calls you a dumbass and you can hear the faint sound of people yelling in the background that you never comment on.

When you were lonely, you reached out and he reluctantly let you grab onto him. You held tight and now you’re afraid to let go. You’re afraid that he’ll let go and a part of you that won’t remain silent no matter how many times you smother it, never wants him to let go of you. You’ve become oddly attached to the faceless man.

Tomura is crass, curses as if it were his first language, secretive as if he were protecting himself, curious as a cat, prying into you with delicacy and cunningness, never realize what he’s doing until you’re halfway through a story. He’s rough around the edges, making sure to bare his canines when you begin to pry. But no matter how many times he barks, no matter the little insults that leave his mouth, insults that longer hold the same sting as they used to be before, you inch closer to him. You always feel a second away from offering another video chat- this time where you can see who he is. You want to see who he is behind the screen.

However, at the same time, you’re scared who you’ll see. You’re scared that perhaps he’s a ghost from your past, someone who you wanted to leave behind that you’ve forgotten their voice and they’ve found a new name to use as a mask. You worry with dread creeping at your ankles on the good nights that the person who you can joke with is someone with cruel intentions. Other nights, you drown in panic and wish to grasp at him like a lifeline, only for the worry to drag you deeper, his face always muddled and hand always out of reach.

You wonder what he thinks of you. What his true thoughts are behind the jabbing insults and hissed out curses but you’re always too afraid to ask, too afraid what the truth will reveal.

-

Within the next week, there’s idle chatter in between the early mornings and late nights. Chatter where it fills the room with such ease. Chatter that dies and fills the room with silence, noises from the house are the only indicators that you both are still on the call. Chatter where it gets cut off due to your own responsibilities or his. A promise from you that you’ll try to message him later if time allows it and a click of his tongue as he tells you he’ll talk later.

The relationship gets easier day by day. Sometimes the word friend rolls of your tongue without you even realizing it- it feels natural to call him that. Other days, you’re hesitant to even say the word- to even think of what it truly means. It catches and sticks in your throat, suffocates you and leaves you feeling odd all over. Days where his name is light and sweet on your tongue, days where it’s bitter and uneasy. It’s easier to say a nickname those times; it doesn’t hold as much power as his actual name.

Talking to him gets easier- even if his name makes you unable to breathe. There are more phone calls, even if they’re short. You get to hear him talk about his day, talk about what he’s currently doing and most of the time he’s playing a game and he’ll entertain you with the plot, with the lore and the graphics. You do your own research on the side, your gasps telltale signs that you looked up what happens in the end and him snapping at you immediately not to spoil anything. You never do, always giving a vague hint to look behind a box if he wants an achievement or extra ammo. But you never give him tips. You offered once and he denied, saying that he wanted a true victory and not a false one where he had to rely on an external source. The ways he says it, with a heavy voice that takes a darker tone, makes it feel as if you’re missing out on something. You lay off, telling him that you’ll be there if he ever needs help, hoping that your own tone will hold the same hidden meaning that his held.

__

“Okay, so what I’m hearing is that not only do you play video games like twenty four-seven—”

“Not twenty four-seven,” he growls but the sound of guns in the background does nothing to help prove his point.

“—and you watch anime and you basically like never leave your home? You’re like a total NEET,” you giggle into the phone, phone pressed between your shoulder and ear. You tighten your hand around the bar when the subway wobbles and around your bag of takeout when someone shuffles in the corner of your eyes.

“Not a ‘NEET’,” Tomura says, hissing into the receiver and you can hear the scene restart. “Look, if I’m a NEET then so are you.” He curses loudly into the phone and you wince, eyebrows furrowing and mouth pulling into a wince that he can’t see.

“You know,” you voice takes on a sing-song tune, “if you need help, I’m more than happy to give you a hint.” Your eyes flicker upwards, reading the poster taped on the wall and flickering down to a baby bouncing on their father’s lap. “If you descri—”

“It’s fine,” he drones. “Besides, you aren’t even home yet… Are you?” On your side of the phone you hear him slurp on something and a clatter of glass.

“No, not yet,” you confirm, “I’m like a stop away.” You lick your lips and glance out the window, sighing when the outside world still blurs by. “And I like totally fu-messed up too,” you pull a face at your almost swear, glancing at the baby who remains unbothered and father who checks his watch. “I forgot I had my headphones with me so like instead of talking to you through the mic, I have the phone pressed up against my ear and shoulder.” You stumble when the train comes to a slow, jostling people awake and others slipping their phones into their pockets. “My phone is gonna be all greasy and gross Tomu,” you whine, bouncing your leg and clutching the plastic bag tighter in your hand.

“I don’t know why you didn’t just have it delivered,” he grumbles.

“Because I was already—sorry, sorry,” you mumble with your head bowed as you weave out of the subway, wincing each time the plastic bag nudges at your leg, “I wasn’t thinking and I was already in the neighborhood.” You stand next to a wall, hands searching in your bag for your pair of headphones.

“Dumbass,” he snickers into the phone.

“Yes, yes. I’m very dumb,” you mumble, tongue sticking out as you untangle the wires, careful not to pull too harshly. “Now give me a sec, lemme connect my headphones.” You let out a sigh and begin your trek to your apartment. You smooth and the wires and speak into the mic. “Okay, I’m back. I miss anything? Finally beat that level?” You tease, a skip in your step as you wait for his reply to come. It’s silent for a moment too long. “Toma? You there, bud?” Still no answer. You step to the side of the sidewalk and see that call is still going on. “If you were gonna step out, should’ve at least waited to tell me,” you mumble to yourself, a frown tugging on your lips.

You disconnect the call and send a quick message to Tomura to call you later when he had the chance. You keep your headphones in your ear for the rest of your walk home, humming a soft tune and hoping that no one would stop you.

__

Shigaraki comes back to his phone with a reflection that stares back at him, a hand covering most of his face and a red eye that glares back at him. The screen is black and he pulls the hand off with a sigh, letting it hover over his chest before placing it delicately on the desk.

He frowns when the call has ended, the contact screen staring at him and a message icon is on his notifications. He reads your message with a neutral expression and checks the time. Thirty minutes until they go on a mission.

Your phone rings twice before you pick up with a cheery, muffled hello.

“Why’d you hang up?” He asks, getting straight to the point, fingertips drumming on the desk, eyes looking into the computer screen where he last paused. He hears the clinking of glass and wonders if you’ve already arrived home.

“Because I was on the call for like a minute or two until I figured I hit bad cell reception or you like had to do something,” you pause for a moment. “Was I wrong?” Your voice is muffled and he suspects that you are home and you’re eating. “What happened?”

A mission brief. One that went on long enough for you to hang up and be in the middle of your meal when he called. A pale hand reaches over to grab Father, placing it back on his face, instant relief and sickness coming to him all at once. “I had things to do,” he answers.

“Right. Things,” you say sarcastically and he can hear the smile in your voice. “Could’ve sent me a message or something. You don’t have to like just disappear on me,” you chuckle.

He hums and nods to himself. “Are you going out tonight?” He asks, closing his eyes, a hand twisting the shirt into his palm.

“Nah, why? Did you want to have a long call this time?” He stares at the cracked ceiling with disinterest. “I wouldn’t mind but—”

“I have something to do soon.” He flexes his hand in front of him and runs his thumb through his fingertips.

“Oh.” He hears you hum. “Why did you ask if I was going out then?”

His eyes shoot open and he stands straight. Why did he ask? He knows why. He can feel his breathing grow heavier, breaths ragged and throat tight. There’s a mission later tonight. Without thought, his hand wraps around his neck and nails drag across his skin, he lets out a low whine in response, pinpricks of scarlet bead out.

“Tomu?” You sound genuinely concerned. “Are you all right?” Fuck. “Did you hit yourself?” Fuck. “Tomura if you don’t say anything, I’m gonna think you’re dead. So like, can you please respond?” With a mind of its own, his hand pulls away, nails and fingertips shining with his blood. “Tomura if you left again without telling me I’m gonna be like,” you pause for a second, “annoyed.”

“What do you want?” He hisses out, hand dripped in blood curls into a claw.

“Oh thank god.” He hears you sigh. “I was worried you like fell or someone had broken into your place. Are you okay?”

“Why do you care?” His lip curls in disgust and the hand on his face makes him feel sick, stomach churning and bile rising in his throat.

“Because you’re my friend.” You make it sound like it’s the most obvious thing. “All I hear from you is like silence for a while followed by a whine. I thought you were hurt,” you mumble, your tone is small, like a child who is being scolded.

He’s silent for a long time and his mouth burns, warm liquid seeps out and trickles down his neck. He feels sick.

“Hey,” your voice is soft, “if you’re not feeling good, we can talk tomorrow if you want? Sound good Tomu-”

He hangs up without a goodbye. The little finger that doesn’t touch the phone shakes. His heart is beating rapidly against his chest and it hurts. He wants to throw the phone at the wall and stomp on it until it’s broken in millions of pieces. He wants to decay the phone in his hands. He wants to- He takes in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, his anger still rising and threatening to boil over and cloud his mind. The phone is tossed on his bed and the door shuts behind him with a loud crack.

__

You don’t hear from him for few days. All your messages are unseen and unanswered. You dialed him the day after, left a few messages asking if he was all right and any other variation that you could think of. You’re too scared to actually dial him now; a sick feeling in your stomach when you think back to the last conversation that you had with him.

He cut you off so quickly. You were sure that this friendship was on the better half than it was when you both initially had met. Heck! He had even begun to talk about his days unprompted and would answer you when you would call to talk about nothing. But then he was silent and made a noise like he had gotten surprised at best or hurt at worst. You didn’t want him to be hurt. But with the way he wasn’t answering your messages and not even looking at them was making you feel sick every day. And it wasn’t like you could send someone of authority over since you didn’t even know his address or full name.

“God, this sucks,” you grumbled, running a hand over your face and gritting your teeth. Your fingers tap nervously on the side of your thigh, something to keep you in rhythm. “Maybe I’m overthinking this,” you tried to reason to yourself but the pit inside kept growing. “He’s always been secretive maybe he had a surprised vacation planned or like a family emergency.” You can feel the heat in the tips of your ears burn. You bring your hands up, your fingers tracing over the shell, noise muffled for a brief second. “He’s fine,” you tell yourself, voice firm and hands in fists, “I’m being silly.” You nod as if giving clarification to a statement said into the air will make it that much more true. “Plus, it’s not like I can do anything except for wait for him to message me back.” You don’t want to think about the “or” part of that sentence. Anything could be added after “or” and none of the options were good.

__

It’s silent in your room; your face is illuminated by the dim glow from your laptop. It burns hot on your blanket and provides you with additional warmth that soothes your nerves. Your eyes burn with sleep and head begins to hurt, fatigued by sleep and light that shines directly on your face. Your body grows heavy, eyelids begin to droop and your phone is fully charged, the green light shines bright and is unblinking as you stare at it. Your eyes glance down to the corner of the screen, the time blinks at you, flipping quickly into a minute in the future. Your eyes are back to the phone. You can feel the bags beneath your eyes droop, feeling that if you stay awake for any longer your own body will pull you into the bed until you’re a mess of limps entangled in a plush blanket.

Your phone remains silent and unmoved and you can feel you heart actually hurt. It feels as if it’s being squeezed; it’s a soft squeeze that leaves you taking in a bigger gulps of air, but the nails that dig in, that peel away at it the top layer and leave it exposed, is what truly makes it ache.

There’s been no contact from him in the past few days. The first day went by without worry, he’s done it before where you wouldn’t hear from him for hours and you assumed that perhaps he had been busy all day and fallen asleep afterwards. Messages were left unopened and you were disappointed but it was nothing to fret over. The second day, messages were still unanswered and the call you sent had gone straight to voicemail. The worry had dugs its claws into you at that point. One the third day, the first few messages were left unseen. The phones calls afterwards would ring for too long, making you sick with worry and a bottom lip that was bitten and stained your mouth in bright red.  On the fourth day, you hadn’t bothered to send a message, reasoning that he would message you when he was ready. If he was ever was. The day bleeds into the night, your mind distracted by trips to stores for house necessities.

It’s late, the moon high in the sky surrounded by clouds and stars as you lay in bed, consumed by an online video. The screen dims, a notification popping in the corner to alert you that the battery in running low. With a click of your tongue, you put your laptop to sleep, the screen loading into your lock screen before going dark, the power light grows dim and you’re staring at your reflection in darkness. Your eyes adjust quickly and you close it softly, sucking in air through closed teeth when the bottom heats the pad of your fingers. It’s shoved off to the side, and you’re alone in the darkness. Hands search for the cord, fingers tracing a line down until it reaches the plug and it’s pulled out, tucked into the handle of your dresser with a soft clink of metal against wood. In the darkness, your thoughts begin to creep up, hands that grip at every part of your body and send both a mixture of chills and heat, it freezes you, makes you clammy and all at the same time makes you uncomfortably hot and twitchy. Dull nails are dragged across the blanket in an attempt to calm your nerves, the little moment of relief is well received. You repeat the motion, letting yourself indulge in the noise.

Your mind grows foggy and soon the repetitive motions become sluggish until your fingers twitch, once, then twice before coming to a still. You’re asleep for a wonderful thirty minutes where the promises of dreams start to lure you in. And then your phone buzzes to life. It’s a shrill ring that you set to make sure if anything had happened while you were unawake, the noise will wake you up and you’d respond to whoever it was on the other side.

It comes to an abrupt stop, the other person on the line having given up but then it rings again. Your body wakes first, hands searching blindly until the phone is pushed and falls onto the floor. You wince and search for the lamp, the light making you close your eyes and mouth pulled into a grimace. With a look downwards, you sigh when your phone has landed face up. Your body threatens to fall off the bed as you reach to pick up the still ringing phone. There are no cracks on the screen, still pristine and clear as you analyze the screen and through bleary eyes, you read the caller ID.

Tomura.

Your eyes shoot open and hands reach for the phone, a quick swipe of the green button. “Hello?” Your voice is slurred and heavy with sleep. You clear your throat. “Hello?” Oh god, please let him be okay, please.

“You sound tired.” He sounds forced- as if he had to push the words out of his throat.

You arch your brows and bite back a groan. “…Do you know what time it is?” Without meaning to, a yawn escapes you and you lay back down on your bed, your eyes struggling to stay open as you wait for his reply.

“Right.” He sounds distant and your worry bubbles over.

You lick your lips and glance to the night stand where an empty water bottle lays on its side. “Tomura? Can I ask you something?” You shift in your bed and pull the covers up to your chin.

“Whatever.”

You let out a low sigh. “What happened? You were gone for like a while.” Sleep slowly vanishes from your mind but it remains foggy, unable to filter what’s you’re trying to say. “You don’t have to like tell me, but I was worried that something had happened to you or like I don’t know, that you like just wanted to stop talking to me and,” you push the blankets off you and lean against the wooden bedframe, “I… Are you okay?”

He’s silent on his end. His breathing is the only thing that you can hear, it’s steady and it eases you a bit to know that he’s still on the line. Silence has filled your conversations with him plenty of times. They’ve been awkward, unnerving, but they’ve also been comfortable, reminding you that you’re not alone and that he’s still there. This silent however is just silent. There’s no reassurance that he’s okay; just that he’s still here. Sleep is fading in and out, a gentle tide that nudges you awake for a few seconds longer before receding back and lulling you back to your sleep.

“I’m okay,” he croaks out and in the background you hear a loud creak.

“Promise?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together and hands once again scratching at the blankets that warm you.

“Why do you care?” His voice is small as he speaks to you.

“Because you’re my friend,” you tell him, “I care about my friends Tomu. And you’re my friend so by like definition, I care about you.” You ran a hand through your hair, smoothing out your hair. “I- Am I your friend?” You take in a deep breath and run your thumb across the side of your finger. “You like don’t have to answer that now, I just—”

“Yes.” His voice is tight but clear. “I- You are.” You hear let out a shaky breath.

Your lips curve in a gentle smile. “I’m glad.” Tears still prick at the corner of your eyes and make your vision blur, you’re unsure if it’s from the sleep that still clings onto you or the emotional side of you that always makes itself more apparent in the dead of night.

“You sure you’re okay? You sound… different.” Different is the nice way to put it. He sounds defeated and lost. When he’s silent, you press. “Bad night?” You offer as a way to expand on what he’s feeling, a way to help him.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He says wearily, a loud yawn that confirms his tone.

“You wanna talk about it?” Your mind and body begs for sleep. “If you want of course. I don’t mind staying up.”

“It’s late.” It sounds like he finally realized what time it was, voice suddenly tired and thick with sleep.

“Yeah, Tomura, it’s really late.” You lie on your side, legs curled in and eyes are barely able to stay open. “But like, I’m already awake. The offer still stands, you know.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” He asks, his voice returning to that akin to a child, hopeful and nervous all at once.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” You chuckle lightly. “Just like don’t flake out this time, okay?” You joke.

“I uh, yeah. I won’t flake. I promise.” The last words are soft, as if he didn’t want you to hear or even want to acknowledge what he had said himself.

“Okay. I’ll hear from you tomorrow.” With a burst of late night courage, you open your mouth. “Remember, you promised. And you can’t break a promise- especially to a friend.”

You hear him laugh, it’s muffled but it’s genuine. It doesn’t sound creepy to you this time, it sounds pleasant.  “Yeah, I won’t.” There’s a brief second of silence. He wishes you goodnight and whispers your name. There’s a skip in your chest when says it and a grin grows on your face, slowly etching itself onto you.

“Yeah, okay. Goodnight Tomura.” A second of peace passes where you can breathe easy and you hang up first; the phone blinks the time that you’ve talked to him before going dark. You slide the phone onto your nightstand and the blanket bunches under hands as you curl in deeper into the bed, eyes closing without resistance and mind clear and chest light.

Tagged:

@rogueofbullshit

@loveableasshole

@yul-is-sparkling

@noonewouldlisten25

@noodlenerd101

@localdisaster

@snackgod

@iikillerkitteh

and thank you, 77-2 discord, for getting me to follow my dreams.........mp

(by which i mean i have a dsmp au for my 2 main minesonas now.)

left: Leonaut, he/him laidback prankster, originally joined the smp just to mess around and do his own thing in the background. interested in the lore (and wants to be a dreamon hunter) but hates conflict and books it as soon as tension starts rising... which is, uh, pretty much All The Time. starts off doing shenanigans (including attempting to help a few friends break into the End by distracting dXD so he couldnt stop them), and really wants an elytra because he misses doing cool stunts. overall a warm and friendly dude on the surface, if a bit anxious at times. ...and then it turns out the reason he avoids conflict is because he’s easily frustrated with people and escalates everything if he doesnt disengage. normally he bails out as soon as his temper starts flaring up, but at some point he gets tangled up in some major plot and ends up showing that side of himself. frustrated with the state of the server, he decides to stop being a bystander after this. wants everyone to resolve their differences and get along SO BAD, including dream. even though he’s very divisive because of this, he has faith in dream’s ability to be a better person and basically tries to strongarm him into a redemption arc settles down in snowchester and cant decide if he should be a voice of reason re: the nukes, or encourage tubbo and see what happens. doesn’t have a backstory or do heavy lore about himself, and handwaves it by saying he’s got memory issues (although not to the point of ranboo-- he’s just very forgetful and doesn’t remember stuff from before joining the smp). he’s a shapeshifter, but it doesn’t come up much and he gets mistaken for human frequently.

right: Landia, they/them leonaut’s younger sibling, and a bit of a menace. usually found as a cameo or messing around in the background while other people are doing stuff, and doesnt take things all too seriously. tends to blur the line between “in character” and “out of character”, with it being hard to tell if theyre doing lore or just faffing about. they join the smp a bit after leonaut does, and karl finds them asleep in the kinoko kingdom library. somehow they manage to endear themself to karl, sapnap, and quackity, and ends up as a proper resident of kinoko and helps maintain the non-hidden part of the library. they know a Lot about everyone on the smp that they really Shouldn’t know, and can sometimes be a bit uncanny because of this. the most they do with this is drop in whenever someone needs help with something, and its not uncommon for them to leave chests at people’s bases with gifts in them if theyve lost something. if someone’s character arc gets really dark, lan will pop up to try and bring some levity to it and support whoever’s in a rough spot. lan’s knowledge of stuff they shouldn’t is actually an integral part of their lore, but they dont talk about their backstory ever on account of it being “really convoluted”. theyre fully aware that theyre just a background character, and theyre happy with that! theyve been in the spotlight too much before, although they wont elaborate on where or how. they accidentally get adopted by karl, sapnap, and quackity, although it’s the sort of thing where they stuck around long enough to become part of the group and then slipped up and called karl “dad” one day. karl freaked out on account of his memory loss meaning that he looked at this fucking idiot catboy and had to think DO I ACTUALLY HAVE A KID??? before lan apologised for “being weird”. sapnap thinks its funny and started calling them “kid” they’re a shapeshifter like leonaut, although more... obvious about it. on account of choosing to be a horrendously anime catboy. they have both odd-eyes and sectoral heterochromia, AND their eyes change colour depending on their mood on top of that. theyre ridiculous and are doing it on purpose.