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shadowfloofster · 11 months

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I've seen people say you can't compare the QSMP to the DSMP because they're both completely different servers with different starts.

The thing is you can compare them. Not the stories told themselves because of course they're going to be different as they're 2 servers with different starts with 2 nearly completely different sets of people.

You can compare the treatment of the creators by the fandom, players (other cc on the server) and admins though.

Foolish for example. He made SO many amazing high quality builds to use and be shown to people. Ranboo and Tubbo had him build a giant mansion for them to live in! Yet it was entered maybe once after being finished. Foolish was able to use his builds for his own lore maybe once. Only a few people like Bad really acknowledged them by messing around in the area of them or adding something easy to get rid of to them as jokes.

Bad's treatment on the DSMP was frustrating to watch. He was the butt of the joke every time he was around. People would constantly swear on his streams because it was so funny for them! They constantly destroyed his and Skeppy's house and griefed the front of it. No one other than his friends really listened to him about things. And the egg arc was supposed to be something that was a massive danger to the server! But how does the server and fandom not directly involved treat it? Like a joke. Bad and his friends clearly worked really hard on this arc to include more than just the 'main characters' and their small circle, yet it was brushed off as if nothing by the players and fandom, treated like it was stupid.

Quackity's lore just kinda- happened. There isn't much I can say as I don't remember a lot of it tbh which isn't a great sign.

Philza and Wilbur probably got the better end of the stick for lore due to being connected to the main lorr, but it still wasn't great for them either.

A lot of CCs not on the QSMP have mentioned how the communication for the server was terrible too. At the start of lore on the DSMP, it made sense as they were purely doing improve so there wasn't really anyone to run things through. But the fact the issue was bad the entire time made the CCs on the server feel ignored and not want to play on it.

It was rare for people to interact with others outside their already established circles unless they're friends outside the server.

Now with the QSMP

Foolish has built multiple things on the server and has been acknowledged by everyone at this point. Bad might mess with them a lot still and encourage others to join him but you can tell the respect people still have for each one. Vagetta wants a version of the statue Foolish built him on other servers. People and fandom admire his builds and always make sure that if there's any damage to it, it's easily undone. Cellbit has made the castle Foolish built him his home the moment it was finished, he's been using it since. He paid him fully and made sure he was fully supplied and had company while building, staying on for hours to talk to him as he built.

Bad is respected by everyone on the server. He's taken seriously by everyone. Everyone trusts him with their kid's lives. Phil asks Bad to babysit Tallulah and Chayanne if he can't. The french trust Bad more than anyone outside their language group. Forever trusts Bad the most on the server other than Baghera. If someone needs something they'll go to him. All the eggs love him and so does the fandom. He's part of the joke instead of the butt of it. He can laugh along with the jokes made, even ones directed at him. When people swear on his streams and he languages them, they immediately apologize and switch to one of Bad's replacements (fudge being the main one) and no one makes fun of it either! They don't start swearing relentlessly at him to annoy him.

Even though Quackity doesn't show up often, when he does people are happy to interact with him and update him on what's happened if he wants it.

People can be off the server for weeks without being isolated because they're not keeping up with major lore, especially as people are happy to update anyone on anything they want to know. Hell people can be on a lot without being involved in lore but still be included as much as anyone else! As soon as there's a threat to the eggs or a new way to protect them, it spreads to everyone like wildfire and everyone's taken it on within a week.

The new arrivals are always welcomed by the islanders already there. They support them and treat with the same respect they do with everyone else. They merge with everyone else nearly immediately and become part of the community without hesitation.

The communication with the admins is clearly amazing too. Philza has pointed out how appreciated he feels compared to other servers. When an egg dies unfairly they're quick to get back to them within hours. If there's a general issues they're quick to get back to them and fix things. People are allowed to have their own stories alongside the main one. Events are planned and discussed so everyones aware before it happens. Anyone who wants to take part is welcome to if it's a big thing due to how open they usually are (rescuing Cellbit and Felps, travelling to Bobby's death site, etc). Thinfs are adapted and changed when needed and all CCs are in the loop.

Being able to watch the QSMP and not feel like any POV I watch is being mistreated or ignored is great. I couldn't watch anything but lore streams with the DSMP because Bad was my main POV and it made me so uncomfortable to watch him being made fun of constantly and be treated as a joke.

The QSMP feels like a community of people, instead of factions trying to go against each other. DSMP was my first and only smp experience and while it was great at first, it quickly soured. The QSMP treats it's CCs and fandom as if they genuinely matter, making sure everyone is welcomed and no one is isolated.

#qsmp #it feels so nice to watch #Bad has always been my main POV for years now as I enjoy watching him most #so watching him constantly made fun of and treated as a joke on the DSMP was horrible to watch #Seeing the contrast of that compared to how respected he is on the QSMP is so nice #While his chat is starting to not be too great #The fandom and the people treat him so well #They all interact with people they haven't with before and they make such amazing dynamics to watch #Small rant thing because I appreciate Quackity making the QSMP so much #the love and care is clear in the way everything's been done on the server #the admins and people have been carefully chosen and it shows so well

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remediesremedy · 11 months

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🍏 anon!!! Thinking about the qsmp. That's it. That's the ask /j

-qsmp!reader being an egg protector/egg-babysitter, kinda like badboyhalo, but they're much more..violent about how they protect the eggs/kids.

>Quackity's trying to get Tallulah again? Qsmp!reader has fucking spidey sense from halfway across the island and is by Tallulah's side in three seconds top.

>Maybe they're super protective over the kids because they never got to have one of their own, or their kid got unfairly killed by the binary codes or something. Just anything to give them that fire to fight for the kids?!

>Even for some drama, the reader has been known to be able to kill the binary codes (source: just trust me) They're known to be a fucking menace if anything/anyone dare tries to hurt the kids 🧑‍🔧

anon i could litwrally kiss you this is so good, such a good concept for like a fic or story. i’ll do some bullet points of headcanons and maybe a short story, may also revisit this in the future!

QSMP!Reader

- the angst from having lost their own egg would be gut wrenching. and i know exactly how it would’ve happened. they weren’t able to take care of their egg for a day, and had asked everyone on the server to take care of them. to do their tasks. except that an event happened, perhaps the new arrivals, or an argument or affair. and your poor little baby was forgotten. tucked into a bed they would never wake up from.

-you can image the grief, logging on to clean up the house and to wake up your little sunshine. only to find they are not moving, they are stone cold, no sign of life emits from them. and you wonder, what went wrong? how could someone be so selfish, so horrible, to let a defenceless baby die? it must’ve been hours that you sat there, with shaky arms to gather your dead child. you held them for hours, praying for a miracle, a heartbeat to reappear, a breath to escape them. but no matter how long you waited, heaving with sobs as the egg in your arms stayed deadly still, they never woke up.

-resentment was the most prominent emotion you felt, in fact, it didn’t wash away or falter for months. everyone forgot. they could’ve been saved, helped, so easily, if people weren’t so wrapped up in each other. you refused to speak to anyone who was active that day.

-months seemed to rot away, time was a fickle thing, and in your own distorted realm of time, your bed became your resting place. lack of eating and drinking, nothing had much of a purpose anymore, that was until there was a visitor at your door. not many did visit, considering a lot of them weren’t allowed near your home after what happened. with a huff you had descended down your stairs, not seeing anyone when you glanced through your door peep hole. cautiously you had opened the door, and the breath got knocked out of you. hot burning grief punched you in the stomach at the sight before you. a little egg, who was clearly lost.

-your instincts had kicked in, you could control this, you could help. with not much thought you knelt down, eye level with the small child, “hey kid, looks like you’re lost, is that right?” you spoke gently, even though your head was screaming and your heart felt like it had been ripped out your chest for the second time. at the girl’s nod, you offered your hand. “we’d better fix that, who are your parents..?” you finished the sentence, realising you hadn’t even asked for the kid’s name.

-the kid hastily scribbled “wilbur” onto a notepad.

-Ah, the kid was tallulah, you remembered her pretty well because of how bitter you felt at her arrival. a kid just randomly found? and for a father who didn’t even want her at first. But as she stood in front with you, your throat clogged up with regret, you could never hate or resent the girl. “i know wilbur, that’s fine.” you reassured with an affirmative nod, “how about you get on my shoulders and we look for him?” you offered, surprised at how trusting tallulah was as she went into your arms, it made your heart ache. as you set her comfortably on your shoulders, you started walking towards the area you knew wilbur resided in.

-Tallulah was pretty far out. “hey tallulah?” you began curiously, at her nod, you asked the question that had been practically burning you. “how’d you get so lost? it’s pretty far.”

-Tallulah hastily wrote on her notepad, you waited patiently, in fact, the scratching of pencil was familiar and brought comfort. you collected the paper with one hand, the other still firm, but gently keeping ahold of tallulah’s leg. me and pa found this pretty place, i accidentally stepped on a warp plate and i was then near you, pa probably didn’t notice the warp plate.

-the lump in your throat somehow got bigger, oh, you knew what that warp plate was. it was your kid’s favourite place, they had demanded a warp there because they loved it so much. tears welled up in your eyes, and you had to choke them back, not here, not in front of tallulah. “you’re, you’re dad must be worried then.” you rushed out, trying to clear your watery vision.

-after a couple of hours of walking, you had made it near wilbur’s house, and it was no surprise that you could see multiple people yelling out the girl’s name. anger flourished in your gut briefly, of course, of course everyone on the server would put their lives and time on the line to save an egg, any egg but yours. “we’re close now, seems like everyone’s been looking for you.” you spoke softly, and then realised tallulah had been asleep for a while, softly snoring into your hair, one hand gently wrapped in your curls and the other dangling from your shoulder. you had missed this. you had missed it so much.

-as you approached, a couple of faces recognised you, their eyes immediately cast to the ground in shame, but their double takes of seeing tallulah made them call for wilbur. The tall man emerged from his house, looking dishevelled and frantic, you had felt that way too. his eyes locked on Tallulah and he practically ran, “darling? is that you? what did you to her, i swear if she’s hurt.” you scoffed, patting tallulah so she’d wake up, groggily she did. the nerve of this guy, he clearly didn’t know you would never do what the rest of the server did.

-“she’s fine. maybe keep better watch of your kid before you blame me.” you spat, feverishly taking her off your shoulders and passing her to wilbur, he was taken aback by your words, but his eyes softened at the sight of his daughter unharmed. tallulah had grabbed at her father’s face in delight, shortly taking a second to write on her paper once again. pa, they saved me! they kept me safe <3

-with confirmation from his daughter, he nodded gratefully at the stranger, his eyes apologising for assuming the worst. as you went to walk away, he called after you, “wait. i know i can trust you, if i’m ever gone and can’t take care of her, could you?”

-it was a stab in the gut, and you couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes, maybe it was strange to him, but this felt like a second chance and a mockery at the same time. with a choked voice, you muttered a “yes.” and warped home, where you had cried endlessly until the morning.

-after a while, it seemed the server had labelled you a protector of some sorts. if anyone went exploring with their egg, you went, sometimes just lurking in the background in case things went wrong. When parents couldn’t be there for their kids, you took on the role of almost a god parent, coddling the babies happily.

-and everyday you thought of what could’ve been. things were mostly peaceful on the island, but one day the air shifted. a wonderful egg called bobby had lost a life to a monster, a monster made of numericals. the island was no longer safe, and if they were going to attack with monsters and ghouls and otherworldly creatures, you wanted to make them wish they never stepped foot on the island.

-you had set up warps to each main location, some near houses that were far away. you had given each member and egg a walkie-talkie, being stern that if ever they were in trouble, you would be there. the island grew dark, and the eggs were scared, but you wouldn’t let them feel that way for long.

-the next time the monster of code attacked, you were babysitting a few of the eggs, chayanne, tallulah and leonarda. you were stargazing, sat on a red and white picnic blanket while the kids tried (and failed) to name constellations. you had heard static, and your eyes sharpened, focusing in on a green light in the forest ahead. quietly you had gotten the children’s attention, swiftly handing them all totems and golden apples, you had kept your eyes trained on the beast coming out from the trees. “if anything goes wrong, you warp to my place okay kids? no arguments.” you instructed, they had hesitantly nodded, finally noticing the problem before them.

suddenly the binary code had dove in, targeting Leo and Tallulah. you saw red, hot fury coated your limbs, with seemingly little effort you had pulled the code off of them. “in your dying breaths i want you to realise, you never stood a chance.”

you deflected it’s attacked with uncontrolled rage, it’s fighting began to get frantic, realising your onslaught would not stop until you dropped dead on the ground from exhaustion. it moved to fly away, but you lurched forward and clenched your fist around a wing, sadistically ripping it off. with the binary caught off guard, you plunged your sword through its chest, blood spurting everywhere, and a crazed look in your eyes. with relief, with the satisfaction of winning, you spat on the dying thing.

-silently, you wiped the blood off you, turning to the kids that had their mouths open in shock. they had cheered and went to hug your legs, “nope nope, you might get blood on you and your dads will not be happy with me if that happens.” you smiled, gesturing for them to teleport to your house, so you could get changed and tuck them into bed, they were having a sleepover after all.

“Quackity.” your voice was deadly, you had a feeling, it was the dead of night and you had bolted to wilbur’s house. “get away from that bed or i swear i will kill you as many times as it takes for you to disappear permanently.” you had growled, pouncing forward before he could use his weapon on the sleeping girl, he was now pressed up against the wall, your axe held snugly against his bare throat.

“woah woah! i wasn’t actually going to do it i swear.” he breathed in a panic, putting his hands up in surrender, his weapon clanking on the floor. you kicked the sword away, eyes slit as you watched the pathetic man cornered.

“i’ll be real with you Quackity.” you started firmly, opting to try and change his view. “my kid, i trusted that someone would take care of them too. i understand the anger, how dare everyone still be happy right?”

he nodded, trails of tears streaming down his face silently. “right. and it hurts so much, because it wasn’t your fault, you trusted people and they failed you. and you can get mad at people all you want, you can fight them, kill them.” you affirmed, starting to release the grip on him. “but the kids are innocent. they are defenceless, and tilin, or even my baby, would never want us to hurt their siblings in revenge.” your watery eyes looked into his brown ones, you let him go, storing your axe in your backpack.

Quackity had sat in the chair, close to where he’d been held. “Tilin would never forgive me if i killed his family.” he cried, “i can’t believe i almost did that, im such a terrible person i’m so-“

you reached out, clasping his shoulder. “don’t.” you offered your hand, walking him out of the house before giving him a tight hug. “grief makes us do things, bad things, weird things. grief can change you.” you pulled back from the embrace, relief flooding you as you saw the maliciousness dissipate from his body. “it’ll be okay one day.”

but as you said that, the both of you said nothing as your own tears ran down. maybe it wouldn’t be.

but you had a purpose.

A/N (author’s note): i feel like i put my whole ass into this piece goddamn. i really enjoyed this concept and it’s not often i find myself getting lost in writing, a lot of the time writing is so hard for me, but this one flowed really well :)

as always, my green apple anon delivers wonderful stuff, and thank you so much for the support anon, and all my anons and people who boost my posts.

reason why they couldn’t just teleport back is because in my head, warping can really tire people, and can especially tire eggs, so tallulah might’ve been at risk if she had teleported back, and the fact she was with a stranger and not a parent, you need to feel certain when warping.

i didn’t want to give the egg a name just in case i never continued this, but i’m naming it anyway, the egg was called otto. and their accessory/trademark would’ve been a flower crown yesyes.

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lusi-raul · 11 months

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I watched Forever’s pov from Jaiden’s dungeon quest since I’ve been seeing a lot of people upset about his suspicions on Jaiden and I can see why but it all stems down to the meta gaming knowledge we have as viewers and not being allowed to give it to him so that he won’t misunderstand Jaiden.

If you solely watch Forever, his and Maximus’ suspicions are valid. Guys you have to realize it doesn’t matter how sweet and nice she appears to other people in the server, no one knows her as much we do and as much as the few she interacts with the most in the island. If it was Roier of course he is never going to suspect her. Even if he was spying on her and Cucurucho that boat race day, it was out of concern and worry for her. But for Forever, unfortunately theres just too much coincidences going on that just makes his suspicions for her grow worse and worse. She just lost her son and is in a mental state where she can be easily manipulated. She distracted Baghera when Pomme died. She is working for Cucurucho who works for the feds. He sees that she has a good relationship with Cucurucho (headpats). She was seen talking alone with Quackity and a Worker for the federation. She built her house which Forever thinks is a shrine, in the middle of nowhere instead of near spawn but he doesn’t understand the significance of the Bobby fields to both her, Bobby and Roier. The truth of the situation is, he doesn’t know her as much as Roier or Bad or even Philza does that’s why he can’t fully dismiss these coincidences even after Jaiden explained it to him. You guys can’t just expect him to blindly trust someone he barely knows nor is it smart for him to do so. Remember how he still trusts Cellbit when he was in the same position? And the trust never left him until Cellbit broke his xp farm. Why trust Cellbit and not Jaiden when both of them are doing practically the same thing in his perspective? First of all, he knows how Cellbit ended up and it’s reasonable to believe Jaiden will end up in the same ditch. Second, He knows Cellbit on a deeper level than he knows Jaiden.

He thinks Jaiden is obsessed with Bobby and is willing to do dirty deeds for the federation in exchange for her son but the sad thing about that mentality is it implies that he will do the same for Richas. He can’t see Jaiden who is this attached to her dead son as sound minded because he sees himself in her, absolutely losing her mind to the point of taking the opportunity to have her son back at the expense of the life of others because deep inside he knows when Richas dies, he will do everything he can to bring him back just like her. We know Jaiden genuinely did what she did with good intentions because we saw her cope with grief but Forever didn’t and just sees her as a broken mother.

He spied on her and broke into her home with Maximus. Some people were upset that they did that. They are investigating on something they are suspicious about. Is it wrong? Maybe but is it reasonable? Yes. They don’t trust her, they have to find out more information so that their suspicions can either be confirmed or discredited. It’s unfortunate that he was too late both times and was caught by Cucurucho the last time. If he overheard their conversation, some of his suspicions may have been dismissed. If in the end Forever realizes on his own that Jaiden really is trustworthy and their relationship improves, imagine how much deeper his friendship with Jaiden will be after all they’ve been through. He is willing to protect and support Jaiden despite the suspicions, imagine if the suspicions were dismissed for him.

Ultimately a story without conflict is like a rollercoaster on a straight track. In order for the rider to feel thrill and excitement, there has to be ups and downs, fast and slow moments and loops. This type of misunderstanding causes conflict within the lore of the island. It keeps the story interesting and ultimately will make the resolution that much more satisfying.

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cosmic-d1ce · 1 year

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Q!Slime is such a genuinely tragic character

He's talked about his bad childhood and how it affected the way he raised Flippa, he wanted to treat her well but this is the best he can do. He never had a good model, but he knows he was hurt by what his father did to him. His parenting is a toned down version of his father's parenting.

He was not a good dad but he tried his best and he loved his daughter. Accepted her with no problems when she came out, provided for her through any means necessary. He made a literal deal with the devil for his daughter's safety. He gave everything to her, all the food he had, even when he was starving, every resource went to making her safe and happy.

Everything he's done was out of love, and later grief.

Mariana was never a good spouse, but Charlie trusted him. Charlie thought that Mariana could be trusted alone with their daughter. He put so much trust in him and the next day, his daughter was laying dead in the house they made together, the bed he made for her.

Not only was his daughter dead, it was his wife that did it. They swore, "until death do we part" but Charlie could've never imagined the death that would part them would be their daughter's. Everything he loved and cared about was gone so quickly, taken like it was nothing. But it was everything to him. His home, his wife, his daughter. They were everything to him.

And his grief was so dangerous, Flippa's death, Mariana's betrayal, it broke him. In that moment, he wasn't him anymore, a broken man with nothing left to lose. If he had lost everything, why did everyone else get to be happy? Why him? Why Flippa? Why his family?

He lashed out, hoping that if he was loud enough, he could get her back. If he made an impact, destroyed the world, they'd HAVE to give her back. Right?

And then everything was good again, he got Flippa back, he had Mariana, even if it was tough, he had his family back. For a short time, he got exactly what he had wished for, a second chance!

But he blew it. So fast.

And again, for a second time, one misclick had ruined everything. Flippa wasn't gone but she hated him. Tilín was dead and Quackity was going to hate him. Nobody would help him this time.

So, he left, gave Flippa everything, but kept the flower she gave him. The only thing he cared about enough to keep. No food, no weapons or tools or resources, just a flower, a gift from his baby girl.

And he exiled himself, promising to be better by the time he comes back.

But Flippa won't get to see him better.

Because Flippa is dead.

By Mariana's hands, again.

#qsmp #qsmp slimecicle #qsmp juanaflippa #qsmp el mariana #qsmp spoilers #slimariana #I love him #My favourite goopy guy #Hes goopin and gunkin in sorrow #help him i beg #Also his egg thing is like a rlly weird form of age regression real #HE JUST WANTS TO BE LOVED #HE WANTS A HAPPY FAMILY #IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK??

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yasminthespiritfaninnit · 6 months

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Hello everyone! I have something to say. I have seen some arguments that I didn’t like at all. But, I still respect everyone who made it.

So, Imma say my perspective.

Tommy didn’t deserve Exile or to be exiled at all.

Dream didn’t deserve to be tortured in prison or to be imprisoned without a fair trial.

I will detail what I mean the best that I can.

First, let’s start with Dream and the prison.

Dream was imprisoned, after Punz led the entire server to him, before he could kill Tubbo in front of Tommy.

Am I saying that he shouldn’t have been arrested? Hell no. His list of war crimes and atrocities against humanity at this point was and still is a mile long.

But the group failed to give Dream a fair trial to defend himself.

Instead, Tommy (after killing Dream twice as revenge for the two deaths that Dream committed against him. Note on that one, I completely understand Tommy’s rage. But killing Dream was not right, nor did it help anyone.) had Sam, (the warden) to imprison Dream after he claimed that he could revive Wilbur.

Neither Tommy or Sam or anyone here had the authority to imprison Dream. Especially not without a fair trial. But they did it anyways and that’s not right. Dream was unlawfully imprisoned against his will.

Now, the torture. Imma say it bluntly. It was 100% not Dream’s fault.

Quackity, who had no authority to do this, wanted the revive book.

Dream said no as he had the right to say that.

So, grossly abusing his rights as a visitor, Quackity started to torture Dream.

So, yeah.

And now, we get to Exile and Tommy.

Exile was an overreaction and rigged from the start. Plain and simple.

Was Tommy completely in the right for the conflict? No. (In order of least to most fucked up in my opinion.) He grief-ed and robbed George’s house, compared Tubbo to Schlatt, tried to frame Niki, and tried to use Dream’s dead horse against him.

But also, Exile was both a unfair punishment and one that was pushed so heavily.

Dream, (the main ring-leader for getting rid of Tommy from L’Manburg) provoked Tommy to make him look worse, pushed Tubbo into a corner about the topic, and tried to frame Tommy of many more griefing incidents (with the help of a unwitting Puffy.). He was pulling the strings when the real victim, George, didn’t even give two shits. Tommy’s damages were easily fixed and everything stolen was easily recovered.

Should Tommy be punished for griefing George? Yes. But he should have been put on probation and made to fix the damages (and recover the stolen property) to George’s house, not put through a rigged series of events that got him banned from his own home.

(And I have an extra argument for this part. Canon is canon. Just because nothing came of something doesn’t mean that it is not important. Tommy’s framing of Niki was immediately shut down. But he still tried instead of fessing up. Dream’s framing of Tommy didn’t seem to do much. But he still did that, showing that he was trying his hardest to get Tommy out of L’Manburg no matter what.)

And now, the exile itself.

It was 100% not Tommy’s fault. Nothing during exile was his fault and nothing was exaggerated by the fans.

Dream really did make Tommy throw his stuff down the hole to destroy it.

Dream really did beat Tommy with an axe if he mustered the tiniest rebellion.

Dream really did changed up his rules and the rules of Exile on a whim.

(For example, Tommy was only banned from L’Manburg. But when they got there, Dream told him that he couldn’t go *anywhere* that was established.)

Dream really did make sure that Tommy was dependent on him for everything.

And Dream really did all of this to control Tommy, to make him a protégé. (Cc!Dream confirmed this over Twitter.)

When people say that Exile was abuse, we didn’t exaggerate it. In fact, I think we didn’t do the horrors justice. Exile was torture as much as the prison was for Dream and Vice versa.

If anyone wants to discuss, please reblog this with your opinions or comment on this blog.

#dream smp #dsmp #tommyinnit #c!tommy #dreamwastaken #c!dream #mcyt #dream smp analysis #slight discourse #more just me telling facts to show my opinion as calmly as I can.#pandora’s box #exile #tw: abuse #a lot of it.#disc duo #primeboys

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sugahyeon · 1 year

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/!\QSMP SPOILERS/!\

So in the end, the whole ''being an egg'' thing didn't mean anything to q!Quackity

For q!Slime, it was a way to cope with his grief, to remember his deceased daughter. It was a access to a family, a chance at a normal ''childhood''. Chance that he never had with his father making him sleep in a crate.

Being an egg is meaningful to him.

To try to fill the empty space left by his daughter and his abusive father.

For q!Quackity ?

It meant nothing. Nothing at all.

He's not learning from Tilin's death.

The second he adopted q!Slime, he left and didn't look back, not even trying to complete the missions, leaving him to die.

To q!Quackity, this was just a way to make money. That's it. It serves his personnal interests, nothing else.

The worst part, imo, that he agrees to be q!Slime's dad as long as they keep stealing as a side mission. He agrees to be his father, bc his friend told him that he actually wanted to be an egg. And q!Quackity accepts, only to run away immediatly after, betraying his friend's feelings.

He doesn't care.

He didn't learn.

Or, at least, he doesn't want to change for q!Slime.

Maybe he will for Tallulah but not for q!Slime.

That's just a repeat of Tilin's life, being tossed aside by their father, having to go to the other eggs' house to be taken care of.

In the end, q!Slime will only get hurt

I can't see that ending well, unless q!Quackity has a realization

#q!quackity #q!slime #q!slimecicle #qsmp spoilers #qsmp eggs #qsmp #i can't handle this

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youphoriaot7 · 7 months

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Thunder booms loudly outside the window. The glass rattles in its casing with the force of the sound, and the whole castle rumbles. Lightning crackles—the storm outside is vicious and destructive.

But inside, the castle is warm, and comfortable, and inviting. Candles are scattered across the kitchen surfaces, casting light across the dim hallways. The only true light on in the house is the dining room chandelier, gently swaying in the slight breeze of the raised roof.

The raindrops pound harshly onto the wood planks of the roof, each drop sounding more like hail than rain. But the six people inside aren't worried. They're not even paying it any mind. They have more important matters to deal with.

Pac had arrived first. Early, to be more exact—midday-ish. Baghera hadn't been far behind him, with Foolish arriving a little bit later. Roier had been helping Cellbit with the preparations: taking care of the food, since he knew damn well by now his husband could not be trusted to make anything edible.

None of them had expected it when Quackity had showd up on their doorstep, the rain speckling his hoodie a blatant indicator of the weather to come. But they certainly weren't just going to turn him bsck out into the cold. They had the room. The more, the merrier.

The game progressed easily. Nobody really had any idea what they were doing, which simply made it all the more fun. Everyone started out seated around one end of the dining table—but as things escalated, they quickly grew closer. Leaning on the backs of others chairs, eyes glued to either Cellbit himself or the game board in front of them.

Dice were thrown, papers scattered across the table, food went flying through the air no less than once or twice. Emotions were at an all-time high, joy and sorrow coursing through the room within seconds.

Outside, the weather was vile, the storm refusing to let up even as the sun slipped below the horizon and the moon pulled itself from the depths of the dark. But inside—inside, there were nothing but six hearts, slowly mending. The grief of the past two weeks melting away somewhat, even if just for a few hours—not healing, not vanishing, but not as...pervasive as it has been prior.

Things are still shit. Their children are missing, people keep disappearing, the bear in the white building continues to torture them day in and out.

But inside the castle, there is a spark of hope. A small glimmer of joy, in a world so dark with despair.

(And if the game runs a bit longer, but the storm hasn't let up, then perhaps they just have to have a bit of a sleepover. They have the room, anyway!)

#qsmp #qsmp fic #could NOT stop thinking about the canon implications of this event #i can't describe what i'm seeing in my head. but this was as close as i could get.#hopefully it still gets the point across. <3 #opq #opq liveblogging #<- sort of?#qsmp cellbit #qsmp baghera #qsmp pac #qsmp tazercraft #qsmp quackity #qsmp foolish #qsmp roier #qsmp x ordem

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kisuminight · 8 days

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c!George and c!Dream have a bond that lets them feel each other's emotions. It is not a fix-it solution.

There is a bitter ember is George’s resonance with Dream. There has been for a while. It started as a small thing, back when Tommy first joined the server. But it grew and grew, until it was a bonfire that George could feel in the center of his chest, winding out from his lungs and strangling his throat like the thorns of a creeping rose.

Dream never named it, but George could guess. It was obvious, from the way it might flicker and wane but always, always flared up again whenever George tried to rely on him these days. First when Tommy burned down his house. And again, when the Badlands attempted their assassination. It’s been an acrid coating on his tongue, worse than brewing potions with spider eyes, since Technoblade… well, since Technoblade.

(George isn’t jealous about him. Isn’t jealous of the way Dream had been excited when Technoblade first arrived on the server, and admiration clicked and fizzed like redstone, even as the bitterness swallowed his appetite and choked at his breath).

The ember has grown into a proper inferno now, like the constant hissing of lava roaring in his ears. It’s hard to hear what Quackity is saying, but the resonance is winding tighter about him because Dream is coming. Dream is coming, and today George is going to demand answers.

“Just say you hate me.”

Sapnap is dragging George away, away to Mexican L’Manberg. There’s enough lava to drown the whole Nether, a conflagration that could swallow the whole server is burning him from the inside out and he is gasping around the feeling of thorns tearing him apart from the inside. Is this what it feels to swallow a wither rose?

“I don’t—how could he do that? George, let’s go. George—shit, George!”

Sapnap is there. His hands are on George’s arms. George can’t feel it through the armor. Just a bit of pressure as his whole world shakes apart around him. It’s painful, and George can’t breathe. The world is in and out and he can barely make out that they are out of the castle. There are grass blocks underfoot and no walls to lean on.

“C’mon, breathe with me. In one, two, three, four—” Sapnap’s voice curled about his ears, rhythmic and worried. It helped, a little. Gave George enough stability to sooth his own reactions until he could manage something more than panting sobs.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Shut up, George. Keep breathing.”

“I’m fine. What is this?”

Sapnap’s hands squeezed, keeping George from pulling away. He looked worried, the corners of his eyes crinkled and uncharacteristically soft. “It’s a panic attack, George.” The corners of his mouth dragged down. “Of course the first one you’ve had was caused by Dream.”

“No? It’s not my panic attack?” The pain ebbed as the heat did. It didn’t quite die back down to an ember, but the bitterness receded into something more sour, as the roses in George’s throat wilting into something easier to breathe around.

“Really?” Ugh. Sapnap made a face, and George made a face right back. “Okay, sure. Let’s just get to Mexican L’Manberg.” He turned away, but kept one hand tight around George’s wrist to pull him along.

“You are ridiculous,” George told his back, pretending that the sun wasn’t drying his cheeks into a sticky mess. He used his free hand to rub at his goggles. He tugged at the tangle of emotions in the resonance, feeling it spool out as they got farther away from Dream.

Whatever. It didn’t matter that the wilting had turned into the same soupy-bog in his lungs as when Sapnap killed Spirit. George didn’t care about the return of the almost-pneumonia of grief that settled like a fever and made Dream uninterested in the world for days or even taking care of himself. Maybe Dream would feel George’s fury like a fire in turn, and come apologize to bank it.

Tomorrow, probably, because he was so busy with Eret today. Tomorrow, George could get his answers. Demand what Dream was even thinking, and why he was even being this dumb when it made all this wrongness curl about him like a miasma and twist the emotional bleed into something dark.

Dream didn’t come home that night. Or the next. Tomorrow stretched on into the taught, painful pull of a distant resonance, like barbed wire strung between their hearts.

#dsmp #c!Dream #c!George #c!dnf #DSMP Blade System AU #just because you can feel each other's emotions #doesn't mean you understand what you're feeling #communication is important in relationships #but this is DSMP where everybody is allergic to talking about or explaining their true feelings until everything is ready to explode #technically part of a larger AU that has been eating my brain for a week #but it's an okay stand-alone so I figured I'd post it #I've finally got inspiration to write #but this is the first thing I've written for this fandom so forgive me if the character voices are a bit weird

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conarcoin · 1 year

Text

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 702

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: Major Character Death

Category: M/M

Relationship: Alexis | Quackity/Charlie Dalgleish | Slimecicle

Additional Tags: Character Study, Complicated Relationships, Grief/Mourning, Child Death, Angst, Enemy Lovers, Canon Compliant, Snapshots, Not Beta Read

"You're allowed to be angry, you know." Slime continues. "You should be, I deserve anger for what I did."

Quackity stares at him for a moment like he's grown a second head before laughing. "Slime, you know if I was still angry, I would be showing it. I don't fuckin' hide that shit, man."

"If I wanted you dead…" He pauses for a moment and turns to Slime. "Well, you wouldn't be standing here unharmed in my house, that's for sure."

Sorry for another short snapshot-style fic, writing single scenes in a collection is just what I do best.

#my fic #qsmp #quackcicle #quackity #slimecicle

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mellorphic · 11 months

Note

do you have any songs that remind you of dsmp characters? if so, please gimme

(also what is your favorite song/band/artist in general)

Tysm for the ask! I could literally talk about this for hours on end.

Favourite song/band/artist changes all the goddamn time but right now Scum by Lovejoy

In terms of characters you are opening a rabbit hole for me, buckle in.

Tommy

What Can I Do if The Fire Goes Out? By Gang Of Youths fits his exile arc, his relationship with Dream at the time as well as grieving Wilbur - “Do I throw my hopes in the fire? Do I throw my clothes in the fire? Do those things grow in the fire, or burn just to keep me compliant?”

Worried About Ray by The Hoosiers gives Pogtopia!Tommy vibes, with the way he wanted to protect L’Manberg and protect Wilbur - “the truth be told, the truth be told, I’m worried about the future holds, the future holds. I’m so tired of being worried about Ray.”

A lot of AURORA songs give me Tommy vibes but especially It Happened Quiet which reminds me of his third death. She uses a lot of nature related metaphors in her songs which I think fit his character - “Eyes blue and hollow as it rains against their will”

Good Grief by Bastille is such a c!tommy song about grief and how he processes people dying/leaving. I can’t emphasise this enough - “You might have to excuse me, I’ve lost control of all of my senses. You might have to excuse me, I’ve lost control of all of my words.”

Wilbur

Ramblings of a Lunatic by Bears In Trees, specifically for the election era but probably fits most of his L’Manberg arc - “Cause all my friends are dying, some faster than the others. I’m trying to distract myself from the fears that I’ve discovered.”

Youth by Daughter reminds me of the legacy that Wilbur left behind once he died on Nov 16th after blowing up L’Manberg. It’s such a sympathetic song, too - “Collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked this home, it was a flood that wrecked this home, and you caused it”

Saint Bernard by Lincoln fits Revivedbur so so much, but specifically in Hitting On 16, his relationships with Quackity, Tommy, and how he felt about the way people treated Dream (read: how he felt they treated him) at this time - “I said ‘make me love myself so that I might love you’, don’t make me a liar, cause I swear to god, when I said it I thought it was true.”

So many Lucy Spraggan songs?? It’s so hard to pick just one but I’m gonna go with Roots for reflecting on the early days of the L’Manberg era - “I bought a big house in the country, I live there now, does nothing for me. Bought a fast car, white and sporty, when I look back I was pretty poorly.”

Niki

Tongues and Teeth by The Crane Wives as a puffychu song during Niki’s rocket duo arc? Pain. Pain and suffering - “Abandon all your stupid dreams about the girl I could’ve been, my dear. Cuz in the night I know you burn with feelings I cannot return, my dear. Oh, my dear.”

The Calling by The Amazing Devil is such a Doomsday Niki song about her looking back on her life and who she used to be - “I look into the water and see a face I don’t understand. We’re both unwanted daughters, but there’s more than water in these autumn hands.”

Moonsickness by Penelope Scott is literally Manberg Niki and how she was trying so hard to fight for her home but it was futile - “And in your blood you know what’s right, and in your bones you know what’s wrong, and in your throat you know that you’re lying to kids and you know nobody belongs in this hell”

ilomilo by Billie Eilish about post-nov-16th rain duo from Niki’s pov - “I tried not to upset you, let you rescue me the day I met you, I just wanted to protect you, but now I’ll never get to.”

I also think that The Call by Regina Spektor fits all of the L’Manbergians and what they value and their experiences during and after that arc - “And then that word grew louder and louder, till it was a battle cry. I’ll come back, when you call me. No need to say goodbye.”

I’ve been saying since 2021 that The Horror and The Wild by The Amazing Devil is literally Phil and Wilbur talking in the button room, with Phil being the part of Madeline Hyland and Wilbur being Joey Batey - “Think of all the horrors that I promised you I’d bring, I promise you, they’ll sing of every time you pass your fingers through my hair and call me child - witness me, old man, I am the wild.”

If you’d like me to assign songs to specific duos, arcs or characters I can 100% do that! Or if you want a more in depth analysis of any of these songs, I can do that to (this is open for anyone to ask me about, not just Mayrine!)

#tommyinnit #c!tommy #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #nihachu #c!niki #dream smp #dsmp #niki nihachu #orphic talks #song analysis #dsmp analysis #L’Manberg #Pogtopia

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remediesremedy · 9 months

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YOU CALLED AND IM BACK (a little late but back regardless)!!! Green apple anon at your service 🫡 🍏

Ideas have been dull but trust, I am as insane as ever.

-qsmp!Quackity needing help with pruning his wings, but it's such a struggle on his own. Especially since (my headcanon)- his wings are torn up from the countless times he's blown up tnt.

-But since everyone just flat out doesn't trust him especially because of, like I mentioned, the times and times again where he's blown up places with tnt to try and kill people. He doesn't know who to go to- if anyone at all.

-Then we have qsmp!reader, the saint who convinced qsmp!Quackity to not kill Tallulah. Who understands what he goes through emotionally with the loss of a kid. And the only one who seems to not be a snob and turn their nose away from his when he walks past.

-Quackity feels embarrassed about it, especially since the reader has seen him do various uhhh.. not so good things across the server, but he solemnly makes his way up the rugged path to the reader's house with a thin blanket covering his back. He then asks them if they can help with pruning his wings.

(Honestly I see them as being purely platonic with their relationship with one another, just two people who are trying to get through the grief of it all!! But if it's a little romantic idm?!)

hello my favourite anon <3 i love this idea and i totally agree that it’s more platonic than anything, just a mutual understanding that grief needs comfort.

warnings: blood, injuries, grief, past tense remembrance of death

The recent weeks had been busy, bustling little eggs coming in and out of your care, finally socialising with the island a little more after what happened, overall things were doing a little better.

so when faced with a day filled with nothing, no schedule, absolutely nada, it was hard to fill the space. these were the moments you thought about otto, when the world went completely quiet. Adjusting without him was an impossible feat, you still made dinner for two, your fingers still twitched at night to tuck him in, and a lullaby always sat at the edge of your tongue for him.

The potted flowers in the kitchen had long ago wilted, simply now shreds of brown that threatened to crackle at the slightest breeze. However you couldn’t find it within yourself to rid of them, Otto found them for you, beautiful daffodils, he had frantically tugged them out of the ground, squinting to make sure he got the roots. He had been so excited, filled to the brim with energy as his dainty hands shoved the messy bouquet in your face.

it had been an almost impossible feat to get up in the morning, and with nothing to distract your clouded mind, the only plan was to rot away in the comfort of your bed until you were needed. The covers were cold, shrouding your body, and for a second, you looked like the state otto was found in, still, huddled under cold blankets. your head moved on its own, your face was greeted with a pillow, and your hands encased your ears, in a desperate hope to make it all stop. The incessant torture never dulled, in these moments it was so blaringly loud, alarms of depressions and guilt streamed into every crevice your brain held.

then, a knock. enough to dissipate the smoke that had invaded your mind. The thuds against the door were hesitant, unsure, a sense of deja vu hit you. It was most likely a lost egg at your door, or a tired parent, but it gave you something to do. Still in tattered clothes, you opened the door gently, coming to face the person you least expected.

The raven with golden wings, feverish eyes and a bruised face. “you look awful” you blurted without thinking, scanning the rest of his body which was equally as bruised.

“thanks.” Quackity huffed, stepping backwards as if to turn away, like coming to your home had been a mistake. before he could retreat any more, you spoke up.

“come in.” you creaked the door open further, and the avian hesitated, but it seemed he gave in, his marred and wounded skin too pained at the thought of standing longer. You wondered how things had gotten so out of hand for him to sustain these injuries. You watched the tenseness in his body disappear, it was almost like he was being watched until now. “what have you gotten yourself into?” you murmured, finding more scratches on the man the longer you peered at him. His eyes betrayed him, full of guilt, regret, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out he had instigated what had happened.

The look on hie face was enough to make you divert the subject, “never mind that, why’d you come here? if you’re here to sleep over, that’s fine but only for one night because i’m not the biggest fan of holding fugitives-“

“it’s not that!” he waved his hands to stop your train of thought, frustration tugged at his brows, it was odd to see him at such a loss for explanation. he wrung his hands, gaze locked into the floor as his lips pursed and then reluctantly opened, spilling the reason he came to you. “my wings.” he paused, you had been too caught up looking for injuries on his body you hadn’t even considered his wings, you could see some golden feathers poking from behind him, but his actual wings were covered by a blanket you previously hadn’t noticed.

“are they okay? is it fatal?” your speech came out fast and laboured, worried that you had a dying man just standing in your house. The violent shakes of his head told you that he was okay, okay enough at least. “then what is it?” you prodded, inching closer to the tense man.

His cheeks flooded crimson, a blush beginning to coat his beaten face, “it’s, it’s embarrassing.” He sighed, he couldn’t avoid it, he had come to your door on his own accord, it was childish of him to almost avoid your questions. “my wings, sometimes they get dirty, or there’s loose feathers, i can’t reach them.” realisation dawned upon you, your eyes couldn’t help but soften at the disheveled avian.

“you need them preened.” He nodded stiffly, gently you stepped beside him and removed the thin blanket that draped over his large wings. Quackity’s head tilted down, it was shame, he felt shame for having no one to go to, and that he couldn’t even do it himself. “it’s okay, i’ll help, you just need to tell me how okay?”

He lifted his head once again, a strained smile encompassing his lips. With a quick relocation you were upstairs, he sat awkwardly at the end of your bed, while you settled behind him on your knees, finally getting a look of what you had to deal with. Broken wings, some feathers looked painful in the way they stuck out, there were holes and scabs, from observing them for only a few seconds, you knew he could no longer fly. Quackity’s voice filled the room, “Wilbur used to help me with them, and right now i’m sorta enemy number one, i didn’t know who to really go to.”

you hummed, listening to him talk while you ran your hand through his feathers, smoothening them out best as possible. Gently, you pulled loose feathers out, fingers skimming across more injured sections to deal with later. Quackity kept his head bowed, his speech once again coming out in a shy murmur, “i don’t even know why you’re helping me.” he admitted, and you chose to say nothing about his admittance.

“i need to pull out the broken feathers and clean your wounds.” you softly spoke, grimacing as your index and thumb tugged on a stray feather, coated in blood. His hiss made you feel momentarily guilty as you eased the first one out, as swift as possible, you plucked them out, hushing him every time he cried out. “it’s okay, almost done.” you promised, pulling the last remaining ones quickly. “there.” He sighed in relief and began to let his shoulders relax.

“i still need to clean your wounds don’t get too comfortable.” you chided, getting up off the cotton covers to retrieve a rag and warm water. While you were gathering the materials you heard the low annoyed groan of the avian, and it almost felt like you never had a day off in the first place. Just another vulnerable person in your care once again.

you realised that maybe otto was sending these people to you, giving you a purpose, and a sad smile appeared at the thought. Otto never got to socialise much, and never got the chance to have an uncle or an aunt because of it. You never got a pairing either, you only had each other. What if you had socialised him more, even when he didn’t want to go? so that maybe people would have remembered to take care of him.

it was easy to do this, go back and forth between the blame. It was a battle that went on most nights, who would hold the title of it being their fault. And as the days went by, the tally on who was most guilty ended up being you. You weren’t there, and that gnawed at every little healthy cell in your body, you were sick, making yourself sick with blame. oh. oh how you missed him.

your sweet little boy.

the call of your name took you back to the present, and you made your way back to the avian again disoriented. “sorry.” you spoke unsurely, words waiting to offload from your tongue, to tell someone else the extent of your blame. But you held it, “i just zoned out.”

Quackity looked unsure at your answer, but he nodded anyway, instead preparing himself for his wounds to be touched and cleansed. When you settled down again, you noticed some of his wounds had been weeping, trickles of blood dripped down onto your bedsheets. Your eyes softened, it was easy to villainize quackity, with his wrong doings and his slimy behaviour, but behind it all was just a clueless and afraid man. So you wiped the blood on his ruined wings, you gently dabbed his wounds until they were clean. His feathers were finally looking golden again, and no longer appearing as a dull amber, the dirt and grime was now washed away. And a part of you hoped it also washed away some of his hatred and disdain for the world.

“are you done?” Quackity asked after a moment of silence, and you answered his question with a hum. Out of instinct you went to help him up, and then realised he was a full grown adult, not one of the eggs you’d been caring for lately. You coughed, stepping aside and watching him rise from your bed more at ease, he honestly looked kinder, softer.

you hoped some kindness would change him.

“thank you.” He softly said, and with a surprise, his lips upturned into a smile. a beautiful smile.

“you should smile more.” you commented bluntly, watching crimson flood to his cheeks once again. He cleared his throat, about to say something when you followed your statement with another sentence, “it suits you.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment it seemed he was a regular man, a kind man. Then his irises looked hazy and his body tensed, all in the span of a second. a fast change that looked so wrong. It was like his very being had been altered right in front of you, worriedly you stepped forward, ready to look the avian over for any unseen injuries, when his voice wrung out through the air, low and shocking.

“i can help you get him back you know.”

#imagines #x reader #fluff #lgbtq #anons are open #anons open #qsmp #qsmp fic #qsmp wilbur #qsmp eggs #qsmpblr #qsmp quackity #quackity #mcyt #mcytumblr #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader #dsmp

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sunflower-rat · 1 year

Text

I found this in my drafts from over 4 months ago and I felt like I should finally release this into the wild. Please let me know if there's any tags I need to add cause it does deal a little with grief.

Because imagine if Techno had been hibernating for centuries there, undisturbed and untouched. People know of this lovely and always warm house out in the tundra - a deep and powerful magic laced through the walls and floorboards.

It's been there for so long - but the fire is always flickering and the pantry is always stocked.

Techno sleeps undisturbed - surrounded by over a dozen dogs who have collars with inscribed birthdays that go back too many years to be normal.

Phil goes in and out without issue.

He is, after all, his greatest friend - and he does not disturb him.

He does, however - wake up one day when he finds a child (probably just 12) sifting through his cabinets - stuffing his face full of gapples and his fingers coated in cocoa powder.

Judging by the tin discarded on the counter - the kid didn't like it very much.

Techno welcomes the kid into his home - and finds out over the course of a hundred stories told in quick succession - that his name is Tommy and that he has a family in the south.

He also finds out - not from his words - but from the aura that surrounds him that Tommy is a God - but it seems like he doesn't know that himself - even though the red vines on his skin and the flowers in his hair never rot and spread like wild fire when he wills it to grow.

He finds Dream at his door - who runs out worried and draws Tommy away from the God who's limbs still feel sluggish and slow - draped in a huge red cloak that the kid has been gushing about for the past ten minutes - and finds himself welcomed with coffee and biscuits.

The visits become normal.

He starts living with the expectation of company.

He finds it hard to fall back asleep - when Tommy arrives the next day, and the day after - bringing in more kids his age that he's never seen and faces that feel oddly familiar - and it doesn't make sense until Philza arrives one day while he's having a lovely chat with Wilbur and Dream - when Fundy calls him 'grandpa' and suddenly it makes sense.

His dogs wake up - one by one - and shows Tommy almost every trick they know (he doesn't want him to know he can order them to attack. They won't listen to him, but he'd rather not risk it) - and he prepares gapples for the growing God to eat and snacks for the little ones and watch them get bigger and bigger each year.

He watches Dream become stronger, and Philzas family grow. He teaches Tommy how to fight and control the vines, and bids Fundy goodbye when he decides he wants to see the world, and sits silently beside Wilbur when he misses him too much for his heart to bear.

He sees it all.

And when Quackity, Karl and Sapnap get married - he leaves his little cabin - and arrives in a suit - sleepy from a months long hibernation and celebrates because he can see all his friends gathered around him, and knows he wants nothing more in life than to see them grow up.

One day, they'll all be gone, he knows.

He knows he will sleep in his cabin for another few centuries, undisturbed because no one will be there to knock on his door or eat his gapples.

He'll find no one digging through his cabinet and tasting all his spices and stubbornly refusing to admit he hates the cocoa powder in his pantry.

There will be no more wedding invites, and his friends will be as strong as they'll ever be, and their songs will be nothing but a distant memory.

But until then, he will celebrate with them.

He will be there, for every milestone and every year that passes.

And he will love them, because in that moment where they all exist together- it would've been all that mattered.

#technoblade #dsmp #tommyinnit #dream smp #dreamwastaken #philza #wilbur #sunflower posts

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