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yuhhxhxx · 8 months

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Grieving. (Luocha x reader)

| Pairing : Luocha x reader (indirectly)

| Warnings : Reader is passed away, mentions of death, violence (lots of), revenge, hatred, Luocha is grieving, kind of angsty overall

| Genre : Like I said, angst 🥀

| Summary : You are (or, were) his beloved significant other and he is now suffering, for he has lost his dearest person in the world.

| !SPOILER ALERT! This fic also merely contains spoilers from the Xianzhou Luofu's latest Trailblaze quest, but even so, I mostly wrote about my own perspective upon Luocha's reason of existing and overall his reasons of being a traveling merchant. I hope you'll enjoy :D

It has long been since he had last seen you. It has long been since he had last spoken to you. It has long been since he had last touched you, since he had felt your warmth against his- since he had kissed you, since he had heard your voice, listened to your stories, enchanted you songs, fought alongside you- it has been a long, rough time for Luocha, for not a single day has passed without thinking about you- and how cruel the destiny has been with you. He curses those who had brought you to your end sooner than it should have happened.

He reminisces the day you have left this world- the day you had left him- how cruel and merciless your murderer was. He still recalls how their weapon pierced straight through your heart, looking back with horror at how terrified you were in those very moments- your last moments. He blames himself even to this day that he couldn't save you. He was weak in those moments- the moments when you needed him the most.

He swore that he would tear the individual that dared kill you to pieces- craving nothing but avenging you and seeing them crumble to death, just like it happened to you.

Nobody, not even him, would have ever thought that such a higher and noble being would ever do such terrible things to a mere, innocent, harmless human. But Luocha should've known better. He should have. He shouldn't have let himself be captured, he shouldn't have let himself become so helpless before a being whose reputation has been made of deceiving truths. Such ugly being hiding its devilish side underneath a charming facade... who would've thought?

After all...

...Aeons are supposed to be Holy...no?

Ever since you have passed away, Luocha has been on a never-ending journey hoping to find a way to bring you back to him- bring you back to life. His heart also seeks and craves vengeance, for he never forgets. After all, his dearest thing in the world got stolen away from him so cruelly and so quickly that he feels like things haven't yet been solved- he neees to return the favor to the same Aeon that murdered his beloved.

Despite his healing aptitudes, Luocha cannot bring the deceased back to life- at least, he fails to do so. He has tried several methods to revive your poor body, yet he never brought himself to succeed. Thus, he always has a talisman with him all the time, just in case he will eventually succeed, or just in case he himself gets wounded. Of course, now, it would be weird to carry around a deceased person's body- he might even get arrested for that, so what better way to carry a corpse at your discretion than placing it in a coffin? A lot of people wonder what's with that big, weird, decorated and elegant coffin that he always has with himself, yet they never really bother to ask too much.

Luocha's interastral journey and every single one of his travels revolve around you and the purpose of your revival. He always seems so close, yet so far from the Aeon whom he wishes to end so badly. He has always been a rather special man- always wearing a mysterious, elegant and innocent facade despite his dark secrets lying deep within him.

After failing to bring his never-ending journey to an end, he has decided that his next destination will be the Xianzhou Luofu, where destiny will help him cross paths with his greatest enemies- or, perhaps, his potential allies. What is unknown is the outcome of all events. After all, he too is a slave of destiny.

!HUGE SPOILER ALERT BELOW THE CUT!

☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆

"What's wrong, Luocha? You seem pretty down."

"Jing Liu, the general will surely disagree with allying with us. Of course, now, I wouldn't mind fighting him or the whole nation- however, it'd only be a meaningless journey, and the Luofu seems to be amongst the few settlements that is rather acquainted with the Aeon of Abundance."

"Oh, Luocha... what a man of emotion you are. Traveling world after world just to revive your deceased partner... I would probably let it slide. However, I do understand why you would seek revenge so eagerly. After all, we have a common enemy...

...Hm. It seems we have arrived. Make sure to play your part well."

"That's the Astral Express over there, no?"

"Indeed, it is. But no one and nothing will stop us."

"Indeed. We will find Yaoshi and avenge well." Caressing your coffin, Luocha says those words and proceeds to plant a kiss on the heavy package of porcelain and stone.

Jing Liu chuckles. "Besides, I do have somebody that I have been hunting down for centuries now... this time, I will end him."

"Ah... you're talking about your old friend that has now become a Stellaron Hunter, correct?" He stands up and smirks, looking at the Luofu.

"Correct."

"Well then, Y/N, Jing Liu, let's take our leave."

To be continued...

#hsr #hsr luocha #luocha #luocha x reader #jing liu #angst #fanfic

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brighterdaysarebeforeus · 9 months

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I honestly wasn’t really planning a villain POV for this but inspiration struck and I couldn’t, like…not write it (>.<) so here we are, in another another POV — enjoy!!

@hobiesgender @royallydivinelesbian

Masterlist

“Damn it!” Olivia threw her goggles onto the sand, glaring unhappily at the empty place where the cave had initially been. She was several miles outside of the kingdom, several very long miles outside of it, in fact, and her one hope had been dashed against the very rocks she was now pouting at. The cave had collapsed in on itself for the moment, not to be attempted again just now, leaving just Olivia and one of her scientists with her as the only people to stare at the empty space where it had been just several minutes prior.

Damn it.

“Well. That was a bust.” She said plainly, packing her stuff back into her bag. Olivia groaned again, running her hands through her hair and yanking on the ends of it twice before letting it go. Her scientist looked unamused with her antics, too used to her boss’s weird moods to really care, and threw her bag into the back of the vehicle they’d taken.

“We’ll just have to try again.” Olivia picked her goggles up again, dusting off the sand as she did so. “We tried some of the harder criminals already, but there’s simply too many.”

“A lot of them just aren’t willing to do this.” Her scientist added. She adjusted her own glasses, flicking through the one tablet that still got service all the way out here — Olivia was willing to bet she had some kind of transportable signal with her, there was no other way it worked otherwise — as she went through the system Miguel insisted on keeping. “Especially since nobody’s ever come back. Makes it difficult amongst the ones who’ve been there the longest.”

“So, new route.” Olivia sighed heavily through her mouth, pursing her lips as she thought. “What if we manage someone newer, someone more gullible? Someone who hasn’t been with the rest of the criminal population long enough to hear rumors about this…little outing?”

“That could work.” Her scientist mused as they started the drive back to the castle. “If we caught them early enough, I suppose. But aren’t there criteria that need to be met? In order to even access the cave, we’d need someone who’s rough but kind, idealistic with a basis in reality, flighty yet dependable…that’s a lot to be looking for in criminals, I think.”

“Ah, that’s what it says,” Olivia waved her hand dismissively as they entered the castle gates, “but, I mean…I don’t think anyone I’ve sent down there so far has had any of those qualities. Maybe they’re not as important as we think they are.”

“I suppose not.” The scientist hopped out of the vehicle, leaning through the open window as she did so. “I’ll see you in a couple of days, ma’am.”

“See you in a bit.” Olivia ran her hand over her face again, sighing in frustration.

Wilson was likely to have her head on a pike, if he could manage it in this day and age; he was growing ever more and more irritated with her failures, though she suspected it was for different reasons than her own irritation. He was…incredibly short-sighted, Wilson was, and Olivia couldn’t really fault him that when it was giving her so many opportunities to further her own researches on the side.

Hell, she’d told him, point blank to his face, that he didn’t need to rely on magic and hearsay; if he’d give her people the chance, they could probably build something that could bring his family back (and honestly, it’s been over twenty years…Olivia would’ve thought the man would’ve moved on by now, but…again, funding for research. He was, inexplicably, one of they very, very few counties in the country making any sort of money. The amount of money he was giving her for research meant that she would help him with this project if it meant reviving the childhood dog he’d had for three days if he wanted it, with absolutely no complaint and a smile on her face.)

Anyway, now she needed to go though the criminal population again, just to see if she could get one of those —

She slammed right into Miguel and one of his guards, who were walking quietly as they walked, making them both drop the papers in their hands. Miguel glowered at her, and she narrowed her own eyes back mockingly before all three of them dropped to their knees and began picking stuff up.

Olivia had just picked up a paper with a picture on it — Hobart Brown, the top of it read in Miguel’s very untidy scrawl — when she got a good look at the picture underneath it.

The piercings, the glower on his bruised face, the way his head was tilted away from the camera in order to shine light on the bruises and cuts on his face while still maintaining eye contact with the photographer…

Olivia almost couldn’t breathe. He looked…

He looked perfect.

“Hey! Octavius!” Her head snapped up, eyes wide, at the guard’s hand waving impatiently in her face. She met her eyes, watching as she lifted a brow and, with a teasing tone to her voice, said, “you, uh…planning on handing it back or what?”

“Sorry, sorry, I just — ” She stood up quickly, brandishing the paper at both of them; she held both edges in her hands, displaying the picture prominently as if it wasn’t Miguel’s paper to begin with, as if he didn’t know exactly what was on it. “Who is this?”

“Just some lowlife punk giving the guards issues in the city.” Miguel snapped, snatching the paper from her hand. The guard sighed, sounding disappointed as she rubbed at her temples, but Miguel ignored her. “What do you care, Octavius?” Olivia felt her lips purse as she thought, mind going through different angles as to why she cared without spilling the plan out for everyone to see, but — “Octavius, I’m warning you…”

“I thought I saw him!” She burst out, and they were all stunned into silence. While she had the upper hand, Olivia followed through. “Here, on the castle grounds. Well, outside it, really, but you know, close enough — ”

“You saw him?” Miguel cut her off, showing her the slightly crumpled paper now. Hobart Brown glared at her from the paper, and Olivia followed him with her eyes. He really did look like the ideal candidate, just from the image alone, and she was so excited — “Him? Here — dammit, you scientists — when?”

“I’m pretty sure it was him, yep? Yep! Definitely him.” Olivia felt her head move up and down quickly. She was practically vibrating, she was so excited right now, she just had to — “recognize the-the hair, you know, that hair is very memorable, big, wild, all over — ”

“Olivia, when?” The guard was the one who pressed this time, and Olivia’s eyes darted her way now. She glanced to the side for a moment, arm crossed over her stomach as she pressed a finger to her cheek and thought hard.

“It was…the other day? A couple of days ago?” She made a face, like she couldn’t really remember accurately, “maybe like…a week? Ago? Time tends to move quickly, you know, days all blend together for me! So it was definitely recently, I think, but I don’t know exactly how — ”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” She said, frowning to herself now. “Hobie doesn’t come near the castle, not usually. Why on earth would he — ”

“The Prince.” Miguel said darkly. “He got fed up with the measures he was taking to fight the guards, and stepped up his game to make the king and queen listen.”

“But Hobie wouldn’t — ”

“Whether he did or not, we need to bring him in now.” Miguel snapped, and she looked annoyed that he cut her off. She looked even more upset when he turned on his heel and marched back the way they’d both come from, hand holding tightly to the paper with Hobie’s picture on it. She followed after him though, still trying to convince him that maybe it was all a misunderstanding, but Olivia barely paid it any mind.

She turned and went the opposite way, sending a message to her scientist about another trip out to the cave. Wilson was still likely to be mad at her about her failure, but she couldn’t wait to tell him about the success rate for this last trip.

She had…a really, really good feeling about it.

#punkflower #a whole new world au #olivia octavius #miguel o'hara #random unknown scientist number one #random unknown guard number one #part 11 #not like…#any punkflower interaction in this #whoops

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sakukaguxxi · 10 months

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Yakult and Tobacco | Gintama

Word count: 3.4k

C/W’s: none really except for a tiny bit of blood

Summary: a story about what happens to Takasugi and the Kiheitai after ch. 704

a/n: This is my first time writing for Gintama, and I wanted to do something like this for a while but didn’t think I was a good enough story writer. But I really felt passionate about this topic and tried my best. I was inspired by various ideas from fandom and combined with my own random ideas. I hope this isn’t too bad. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

______

The long search hadn’t been for nothing. It wasn’t a pipe dream, it wasn't a dead end. This couldn’t be a coincidence. After investigating the dragon holes for several months, Matako finally found him.

She was overcome with tears of joy and relief as she held the reborn Takasugi in her arms. The local villagers who had gathered around upon getting word of a mysterious baby appearing in the dragon hole looked on in mild confusion. What does this baby mean to this woman? they must have thought. Was it really born from the dragon hole or just abandoned? Is it the divine wrath of Ryujin-sama?

Matako didn’t really care how this scene looked to anyone else at that moment. It was just so personal. Feeling like a big weight had been lifted off her shoulders finally, she decided she was ready to leave after she finished crying and wiped away her tears. Wherever home was, they could now return.

Matako turned to the crowd. “I will take this child,” she announced.

Nobody else was racing to volunteer, but there were a few murmurs among the crowd. Then one man pointed at the infant, shouting, “This could be an attack by the Dragon Vein God! You shouldn’t keep it!”

“I can handle this,” she responded firmly. “You don’t know the whole story, because this is actually my friend who I’ve been looking for, and now he’s been revived. It probably sounds crazy, but even if you don’t believe me, I have to do this.”

Now that she found Shinsuke, it was time to embark on the journey to regroup with Takechi. Some villagers were actually kind enough to help her by lending her some baby supplies and giving her directions, even if they didn’t fully understand the background.

……

Matako met Takechi at a small house on the outskirts of Edo that the Kiheitai had used as a hideout. It would make a decent place for someone who wanted some privacy away from the city. There was a dirt path leading to it with a hedge running along one side.

When Matako arrived at the house, Takasugi still looked like a baby. She and Takechi decided they would take care of him together. The two Kiheitai members smiled down at the infant. Takechi, normally less sentimental, was still happy Takasugi had been found. He was also proud that after being told there wasn’t the slightest chance of Takasugi being resurrected like Utsuro, their intuition had actually worked out in their favor.

“The dark purple hair is definitely the same,” Henpeita observed.

“And now he has two functioning eyes again,” Matako added. She gazed at the baby, whose eyes were open and was looking up at the two of them. “I wonder if he recognizes us yet even in this state…”

Henpeita put a hand on her shoulder. “We can’t know yet, so you shouldn’t worry right now.”

……

Takasugi had reached a new stage of growth within a couple days of arriving at the hideout, looking around preschool age now. Despite hearing what happened to the reborn Utsuro from Gintoki and knowing what altana was capable of, Matako and Henpeita were still amazed to witness Takasugi’s growth first-hand. It reminded them of Princess Kaguya. Altana truly was a powerful energy.

Henpeita went and bought more clothing for Takasugi in a couple different sizes since they didn’t know when his next growth spurt would be. As the strategist of the Kiheitai, he was trying to think ahead. He also bought Yakult, which Takasugi had gone absolutely nuts for in the past. He thought it might even help spur on his memories.

There weren’t many other people in the close-by area to worry about, but Matako felt a sense of protectiveness towards Takasugi during this sensitive time. She didn’t want people to think he was a monster if they noticed his fast growth. She was glad she’d found him when she did instead of him falling into the wrong hands. For the time being, he had to stay near the house at least.

The interesting thing about Shinsuke growing up at an accelerated rate was that he still couldn’t speak, but seemed to understand basic communication in a way. He also easily regained his ability to do certain things such as walking and using chopsticks with only a little instruction if any. He mostly followed the other two around quietly like a puppy and went with the flow of whatever they were doing. Being like a little kid, he could still get into mischief. Gintoki had mentioned that the reborn Shouyou started speaking fully when his memories were unlocked. However, Matako didn’t know if or when Takasugi would regain his memories and return to his old self.

……

On the second night since Takasugi’s new growth, Matako rolled to her side and smiled softly at him as they were about to go to sleep. They slept in the same room on their own futons since he had his first growth spurt out of babyhood. But Shinsuke was given the one regular-sized blanket in the house. Takechi hadn’t gotten around to shopping for more of those yet.

For the first time since being reborn, Shinsuke had a dream of various people crying or looking like they’re about to cry. There was the blonde-haired woman called Matako, a man with curly silvery-blue hair, and another man with long light brown hair. In the dream, Shinsuke thought, No… please don’t cry, everyone…

Shinsuke woke up again early in the morning and turned toward Matako out of curiosity and instinct. She was still asleep but looked cold and exposed from not having a decent blanket. Despite still being tired, he felt an urge to help her, so he dragged his blanket across the room and covered her. Then he laid down next to her on top of the blanket and pulled one edge over himself.

Like a lot of dreams, most of the contents of Shinsuke’s had faded from his mind within a few minutes of being awake, leaving only vague bits and pieces. The details of most of the people had become blurrier, and he wasn’t aware yet that it was based on real experience anyway.

A few hours later, Takechi stepped in the doorway to the others’ bedroom, asking, “Matako, are you awake yet?”. He had returned from a short visit to the city and was surprised to see the little Takasugi sleeping next to her on top of the blanket.

Memories of the first time Takechi officially met Matako flashed in his mind: despite the Bakufu confiscating her gun, she did whatever she could to try to save the imprisoned Jouishishi, such as threatening Takechi with a dagger to the back. More important to her than Takasugi acknowledging her or letting her join him was preventing his death, because she believed the country needed him. No doubt, being saved by him personally had also cemented her loyalty and belief that he had a good heart. Takechi had handed back her gun and told her she would do well to take revenge herself. He recalled her surprised face at the end of the battle when Shinsuke simply said, “Let’s go,” letting her know she was included.

I never thought I’d see them as roommates, Henpeita thought.

……

Later the same day, Gintoki was walking towards the Kiheitai hideout when he came upon a little boy standing on the path. Despite looking young, Gintoki could recognize that face anywhere, having grown up with him. Shinsuke stared up at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“So we meet again, huh?” Gintoki stated calmly, his eyes at half-mast.

Meanwhile, Matako was in the house, expecting Gintoki any minute. The Kiheitai had contacted all of Shinsuke’s old friends, and Gintoki was the first who was able to visit. She was suddenly alerted to a child whining, “Let me go! Put me down!” followed by a familiar male voice saying, “Excuse me.” She went into the genkan to see Gintoki holding Shinsuke under his arm

“Let me go!” Shinsuke repeated, trying to wriggle free.

“Is this your kid?” Gintoki asked sarcastically. “He made an impudent face, and I knew right away.” He finally released the boy from his hold.

As Shinsuke went forward to climb over the porch step, kicking his sandals off behind him, Matako grumbled, “...It’s obvious.” Shinsuke dashed past her into the house. “Come in,” she offered to Gintoki.

……

After setting Shinsuke up with a game on the other side of the room, Matako and Gintoki sat across from each other with their own cup of tea. Gintoki eyed him for a bit before focusing on Matako. “How has taking care of him been so far?” he asked.

“It’s been relatively good. It’s not like I have much experience taking care of babies or little kids, but this isn’t a regular situation. Takechi-senpai has also been a big help, I hate to admit…”

“When did he start talking, anyway? He still seems pretty quiet otherwise…”

Matako frowned slightly. “Just today when you showed up carrying him… He never said anything before, so I guess this is progress. I thought you meeting him could change things…”

“Well, yes, I am very influential,” Gintoki joked. “I’m not the main character of my own series for nothing.”

Matako looked downcast, so Gintoki snapped back into seriousness, waiting for her to continue. “I can’t help but compare your situation with Shouyou to ours,” she explained. “I want Shinsuke-sama to be happy no matter what happens, but deep down my hope is he’ll regain his memories and return to being the person we know and love. Am I selfish for this? Would he be better off starting a different life and forgetting Shouka Sonjuku, the Joui War, the Kiheitai, everything?” Her eyes stung with tears. “I won’t abandon him, but I can’t deny there’s still a void from losing a loved one. Not only could we not prevent it, we weren’t there for him during that time. We had no idea he was dying. I thought we were doing the right thing by giving him some space, but it didn't work out for us in the end. We shouldn’t have left him alone…”

Suddenly, Takasugi scurried up next to Matako to hold her hand. He noticed her looking and sounding like she might cry and wanted to comfort her somehow. Matako was surprised by his action, but it made her smile. “Don’t worry, I’m alright,” she reassured him, giving him a one-armed hug. He stood back for a few seconds like he wasn’t sure, then returned to his area.

Gintoki drank more tea with a pensive expression. “You don’t know this, but I actually had amnesia once from a car accident and lost my identity,” he shared. “Yeah, I became a productive member of society and didn’t remember bad memories from my past, but it wasn’t me. My friends struggled to get me back, and while it didn’t happen right away and I left them to start a new life, they still came to get me eventually. So the way you feel is natural, Matako-san. And although I can’t make any guarantees and can only go by my one experience, I’d say you shouldn’t give up… Just be honest with him.”

……

Matako saw Gintoki off at the entrance when it was time to go. “Thank you again for coming, Shiroyasha,” she said.

“No problem,” Gintoki replied. “And like I said, I’ll also see what else I can do. I’ll talk to Zura and Tatsuma about it too. So, see you guys later.”

“See ya.” That came from Shinsuke, who had come out to the front. Matako and Gintoki were still a little stunned to hear him speak again at all, but Matako did a double take because his yukata was now up to his knees. He definitely looked taller than he was even less than twenty minutes ago! Now he had an elementary school-age appearance.

Gintoki also noticed and smirked. “Take care now,” he said.

On his way down the path, Gintoki encountered Takechi coming from the opposite direction with a bag in hand.

“Were you in a hurry?” Takechi asked, stopping.

“I had some barley tea and we talked for a bit,” Gintoki replied. As he walked past Takechi, he continued, “I don’t know what’ll end up happening, but… he definitely doesn’t need diapers anymore,” and waved back.

……

Gintoki, Katsura, and Sakamoto met at a local restaurant and sat at a booth together, with Gintoki on one side and the other two across. He was catching them up on his visit to the Kiheitai from the day before.

“I admit that I was initially skeptical and didn’t think it was possible for him to be resurrected,” Katsura said. “I admit it, I was wrong.”

“Aren’t you glad things are starting to work out, though?” Sakamoto said.

“Yeah, but there’s still the issue of him getting his memories back, which the Kiheitai care a lot about,” Gintoki pointed out. “Matako-san seemed upset when I talked to her. I think we should all do our best to help in some way. Takasugi was our friend too, so we want him to get his memories back, right?”

Sakamoto turned to Katsura with a smile and said, “Well, since it’s our turn to visit now, let’s go together. We should do it soon this week.”

“Let’s bring presents,” Katsura suggested excitedly.

……

After Gintoki left the Kiheitai hideout, Takasugi didn’t try to speak the rest of that day or into the next. Matako and Takechi weren’t sure why, but hypothesized maybe his mind was still settling in and it was part of his development. They asked him at one point if he could remember his past, but he shook his head in confusion. So they tried to tell him some more about his background, and he seemed to be listening, but his reaction was calm, almost unreadable.

It wasn’t until after going to bed that more peculiar things happened once again. Takasugi had another dream where he was standing by a river at night with fireworks going off. It was a beautiful sight, and he watched in awe as different colors and even shapes soared across the sky. There were other people around him watching, including three people right in front of him. Then those three people turned around and smiled at him. There was Matako, Takechi, and a green-haired man wearing sunglasses… Bansai. By the way they were looking at him, it seemed like they were happy he was having a good time and enjoyed being with him.

The scenery changed somehow seamlessly to a man standing in front of a nondescript background. He had long, light brown hair and wore gray and beige clothing, with his arms crossed and tucked into the opposite sleeves of his haori. He was smiling and had a strong aura like a wise and kind person. He said, I’m proud of you, Shinsuke, so don’t give up.

Shouyou-sensei? Shinsuke thought as the recognition completely dawned on him.

Takasugi didn’t get to hear a response as he woke up soon after that in the morning. Not only had he grown to adult size overnight, he now finally had a realization about himself. That dream had made everything clear.

He sat up cross-legged, the blanket falling over his lap. Since he grew a lot over night, his yukata had opened up and became more like a shirt, revealing his bare torso and obviously not long enough anymore to cover his bottom half if not for the blanket.

Matako groaned slightly as she also started to wake up. She tilted her head to look at Takasugi and was met with the grown version of him staring back at her with his mouth slightly agape.

“Wha- Huh?!” Matako gasped, sitting up and pulling her blanket further over her chest out of reflex. She honestly hadn’t expected to wake up that morning and suddenly see Takasugi look basically like the person she’d known for 12 years. Out of awkwardness, she shifted her position to slightly face away from him while her eyes were still pointed his way. She trembled a little as she reached to push some hair out of her face.

Takasugi put his hand over his left eye. “Hey… It’s me,” he finally said.

In a flash, Matako went forward to kneel in front of him as he lowered his hand. She looked up right into his eyes. “You can see, can’t you?” she asked with concern.

Takasugi looked down and took in her expression fully, which conveyed intense emotion. “...Yes, I can see …” he answered. “It’s just that I only noticed now that I got it back…”

“How do you feel now?”

“I’m still trying to process everything and let the fact that this is real settle in… But I know how and why I came back and accept it. On that day, Shouyou-sensei actually told me his plan to sacrifice himself by using up all the altana in his body to cancel out the terminal’s altana. And he was distraught at the time because he didn’t think he could save me as well…” He raised one side of his mouth in a half smile. “I feel like Sensei was by my side until you came to pick me up again. And he still is here in a way…”

Takasugi took a scan around the room, then continued, “And even before I got my memories back, I’ve seen over the past couple weeks how you and Takechi have taken care of and protected me, so I’m also grateful to you. Also importantly, I’ve wanted to say I’m sorry for leaving the Kiheitai behind without a word and any hurt caused by my absence. I couldn’t tell you what was going on and I didn’t know how much longer I’d have to live or if I’d see you again at all. But thank you for not giving up on me.”

Matako felt her heart swell and couldn’t help herself, leaning forward to give him a big hug. He was momentarily stunned but formed a small smile and reciprocated. “It really was no problem,” Matako said. “You know the Kiheitai will be there for you. And we may not have had the chance to meet your master, but we can’t thank him enough for making this possible...”

……

Once Shinsuke was fully dressed and had gotten his bearings, he said to Takechi when they were outside walking, “Could you hand me your sword? There’s something I want to see…”

Takechi unsheathed his sword and handed it over without a word, his eyes fixed on Shinsuke’s face the whole time.

Shinsuke raised his left hand and carefully pricked the pad of the middle finger. There were some tiny beads of blood, but nothing else happened. After sucking the blood off his finger, he resumed, “I actually don’t think I had to do that to know I’m still mortal, but I just felt like making a point for myself.” He gave Takechi back his sword.

As Takechi put it away, he responded in an amused tone, “I figured that’s why you wanted it.”

Shinsuke chuckled. “I wanna get a new sword sometime soon, though. It doesn’t feel right not having something at my waist. And I might need it anyway if the Kiheitai has plans.”

……

Later that day, Katsura and Sakamoto came over. “Sorry it’s been a while since I last wrote,” Katsura told Matako as they stood at the genkan with him in front of Sakamoto. He held up a paper bag. “This is a gift for you, Matako-san. It’s one of those new-fangled robot vacuums.”

“Oh, wow,” Matako remarked.

Katsura stepped a little closer to her like he was giving her some topic secret advice, but said in a louder voice with his finger pointed up, “For the little one’s sake, we need to make sure we take care of dust in even the nooks and crannies…”

“It’s really nice, but why are you so loud right now? And anyway, Shinsuke-sama is already…”

“Oi,” came a baritone voice from inside, which got Sakamoto and Katsura to crane their necks around Matako. She led them forward so they could see in the doorway.

Takasugi was sitting on the floor holding a kiseru. “You guys are as loud as ever,” he said with a grin.

______

a/n: Thanks for reading! Please like and reblog!

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saiilorstars · 1 year

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Ch. 16: Waking Up

Fandom: Harry Potter (Hogwarts years 1-7) Pairing: Draco x OFC

taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic

Story Masterlist // Romina’s Masterlist

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

The end of the year feast had arrived, and this time it was worth celebrating. Harry had kept good on his word to Arden that he would bring down the Basilisk terrorizing the school, though Arden would never know that the real reason the Basilisk was after them in the first place was because of Lord Voldemort - in the guise of Tom Riddle - was the owner of the diary. Harry thought that was information that Arden didn't need in her life. Besides, Tom Riddle was gone and so was the Basilisk. Ginny Weasley, who turned out to have been under control by Tom Riddle, was safely returned to normal and was once more happy as could be, especially since those who were petrified were being revived that night.

Arden would spend a whole night of anguish wondering what the hell it was that Harry would be doing to get Romina (and everyone else who'd been petrified) back.

"Arden, what did you do with the scrap of paper?" Angel asked her in the evening at dinner.

Arden chewed on her bottom lip. She could already feel Draco's burning eyes on her warning her to keep quiet. Under no circumstances did he want anyone else finding out he had to go up and near Hermione Granger.

"I, um, gave it to the rightful owner," Arden said in the end.

"What do you expect Potter to do with it?"

"I don't know, something at least? All I know is that last year, Harry was able to discover that a longtime professor was really working for You-Know-Who so I'm hoping he'll have the same luck and bring Romina back to us. Or, at least he'll put a stop to whatever did that to her."

"Why are you so interested in it now?" Theo asked Angel afterwards and brought on a whole new conversation. "We're leaving tomorrow and so far, I don't really see anyone being unpetrified, do you?"

"Madame Pomfrey said that the antidote would be ready tonight," Daphne chimed in with a smile from ear to ear. "I'm hoping Romina can come downstairs tonight. I really miss her, doesn't anyone else?"

"Debatable," Blaise said, causing Theo to snicker, "I mean, it has been quieter lately, really."

"Blaise, don't even start," Angel said, shaking his head. "What happened was horrible. Nobody should be petrified."

"Oh calm down everyone," Draco cut in, rolling his eyes. He could already see Carolinha's face growing red from alarm at the conversation. The girl really was too squeaky for his taste, or anyone's taste for that matter. "The antidote is working so like it or not," he glanced at Blaise who was eating with a smirk on his face, "Oswell will be back tonight."

Blaise looked up from his plate and, still smirking, looked at Draco. "You excited too?"

"Maybe," Draco's casual answer brought on the shocked faces of his friends until he added: "If only to see you have a meltdown."

Blaise's smirk vanished as the rest of their friends began to laugh.

~ 0 ~

It was strange being petrified. One moment, she was looking at a horrible creature in a compact mirror and the next thing she saw was that the night wing ceiling could definitely use some new paint. It was almost like she had gone through a period of time at light speed...but almost.

Romina found it strange that even though she was not awake, and she could not speak, she could still hear every now and then. Granted, it was warped and mostly chipped and no doubt distorted, but she could hear sounds. It was not comforting at all. Being not awake but almost awake is about the worst kind of torture in her opinion. When Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout gave her an antidote, Romina actually felt like everything was too loud. Madame Pomfrey assured her that her sensibility to hearing was completely normal given the situation and that it would go away in a few days.

Hermione, on the other hand, woke up completely fine. "I told you it was a Basilisk!"

Romina winced with Hermione's voice. She brought her hands to her ears for a moment. "Could you please not yell."

"I'm not yelling," Hermione said as she hopped off her bed. "I would never yell that I knew exactly what kind of secret creature lay in a secret chamber." She was, in fact, keeping her voice very hushed. She cocked her head to the side. "Are you alright?"

"No," Romina said sharply, bringing her hands down on her lap. "It feels like everyone is yelling."

Hermione's brows knitted together as she looked around the night wing. There was commotion, yes, as the rest of the petrified were being given the antidotes but nothing out of this world. "I promise you that no one is yelling."

"I bet," Romina sighed. "Do you think they solved the mystery, though?"

"Only one way to find out," Hermione grinned. "You think you can manage leaving the night wing altogether?"

Romina would love to say 'no' but since she spent way too much time in the night wing, it felt like she needed to get away. She slipped out of bed and very slowly tried to keep her hands on her sides.

"Girls, you can stay as long as you need to," Madame Pomfrey said when she saw Romina struggling to walk with Hermione.

"I'm okay," Romina nodded, making sure that her hands did not move from her sides at all.

Madame Pomfrey didn't seem so convinced. She told the girls that it was the last day before students were to return home. The Great Hall was filled with loud commotion that certain ears would be sensible to. Romina acknowledged the warning as she walked out with Hermione.

The two girls hurried down the stairs, reaching the Great Hall in just minutes. Hermione was all for running in and seeing her friends but she stopped at the doors when she noticed Romina was still at the steps, covering her ears.

"Romina, are you alright?" Hermione turned away from the doors altogether. "Is it — is the noise too much?"

With a groan, Romina came to take a seat on the last step, covering her ears. "It's alright, Hermione. You can go in. Bet you're hungry. We haven't eaten in ages."

Hermione hurried back to the steps and sat down with Romina. "The same goes for you. Bet your friends are missing you too."

"Mm," Romina scrunched her face. "Maybe. It's complicated, that lot. Most of them aren't exactly the expressive kind. Well, maybe Carolinha but that's only because she can't hide her feelings at all." Hermione gave a light chuckle. "Like I said, you should go."

"I'm not leaving you out here," Hermione motioned to the empty hallway. "We were petrified together. Kind of bonds us for life." This time it was Romina who laughed. "Besides, I think your friends really do miss you. More than you think."

Romina lowered her hands when the noise settled a bit more. "What do you mean?"

Hermione made a face as if she were still debating whether or not she had spoken more than she should have. "When you were petrified, did you hear anything? See anything?"

Romina shrugged. "A little bit of hearing. No sight whatsoever. What I heard were moments of Arden, I think? Angel too. I think they were the ones who came to see me most, if not the only ones."

"They weren't the only ones," Hermione said, swallowing thickly. "I don't even believe it yet."

"What?"

Hermione seemed ready to talk when someone zoomed past them down the stairs.

"Oi! You two!" It was Justin Flint-Fletchley, another fellow petrified student, who stopped a few feet away from the girls. "Aren't you starving!? Being petrified works up an appetite! C'mon!"

The girls exchanged glances and ultimately Romina agreed that she was indeed hungry. They stood up together and headed for the Great Hall. Romina was reluctant to walk in at first, and it took a bit more seconds for Hermione to finally convince her to go in with her.

Celebrations were going everywhere. Romina winced every now and then as some yelling became too much. She didn't notice that Hermione had led her to the Gryffindor table, although it wasn't very surprising. What did she expect? That she be walked to the Slytherin table?

Harry and Ron were excitedly waiting for them and hugged each girl tightly (at the last moment Ron decided to shake hands with Hermione, for some reason), profusely apologizing for what had happened to them.

"If I say it's alright will you stop yelling?" Romina said, once again bringing her hands to her ears.

"Well, that's rude!" Ron exclaimed.

"She's experiencing some sensibility to sound," Hermione explained, "So lighten up already."

"Oh Rom, I'm sorry," Harry made a face. The Great Hall probably sounded like it was exploding in Romina's ears.

"Don't worry about it," Romina waved a hand and slowly lowered the other one from her ear. "I'm just happy you guys did it. Whatever it is that you did."

"It was not easy," Ron made clear to the two. "Nearly died back there. And by the way, Hermione, professor Lockhart was a total farce!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron went into a ramble about how Lockhart had admitted to stealing other people's stories and then obliviating them to keep them quiet.

"It doesn't matter," Romina said in the end, "Like I said, I'm just happy you guys did whatever it is that you did."

"With loads of help from you," Harry said, then added, "And from Arden. She's the one that saw the slip of paper in Hermione's hand."

Hermione looked uncomfortable though, as she was about to add more. She looked at Romina again, wearing the same expression she had when they were outside on the step. "Erm, well, Arden may have seen the paper but it was actually Malfoy who got it out of my hand in the first place."

Ron nearly fell forwards. "What!? I'm thinking that petrifying condition must have confused you, Hermione!"

Even Romina seemed a little surprised. "Seriously?"

Hermione nodded firmly. "I heard Arden, and then I heard a conversation between Malfoy and Angel Paes."

"And what did they say?" asked Romina.

Hermione bit on her bottom lip. The conversation she heard had not been for her ears and because Angel was pretty nice, she didn't think telling his secret was the best way to be a friend to him. "I-I don't remember everything...but I know Malfoy was mad he couldn't get the paper out of my hand at first."

"Interesting," Romina said, a smile growing across her face. "Maybe I was wrong."

"Wrong about what?" Ron scowled.

"Nothing," Romina said with a wave of her hand. "Let's not worry about the details. I'm hungry. And I would really like to see my other friends now." She gave the Gryffindors each a hug and then hurried towards the Slytherin table. She was subjected into a second round of welcomings from her friends, none stronger than Arden's hugs though. Well, Angel could rival her.

"I have never been so grateful to Harry! He did whatever it is he usually did and got rid of that Basilisk thing!"

Romina laughed and patted Arden's back. "Well, I hope you know that Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout told us that Dumbledore has issued 100 points to those who helped Harry and Ron in the first place." And as she spoke these words, she sent Draco a significant look that made his eyes widen in horror. It was clear he didn't want his name anywhere near the spotlight. It confirmed Hermione's story. "Don't worry, I heard he's awarding them in silence."

Arden, thinking Romina was still speaking just to her, laughed and said she didn't care about the points. Romina shot Draco a knowing smile and started to eat.

"What was it like?" Daphne asked her out of sheer curiosity. "Being petrified?"

Romina was piling on dinner on her plate pretty fast. "I mean, at times I could hear things. Actually, my hearing's a bit sensible right now. It's like being in slow-mo for ages. My ears have to catch up to real time now."

"Really? You could hear at times?" Draco drawled suddenly, meeting Angel's gaze with a smirk. The brunette stiffened in his spot. "Did you happen to hear anything interesting?"

Romina was none the wiser about their little secret. "Not really. The pieces that I did hear were just that: pieces. Everything was kind of slowed down, you know? Hard to make out a conversation."

Angel visibly relaxed but his sister shot him an odd side-glance. "Well, we're just really glad that you're back, Romina," he said.

Romina briefly paused to smile in his way. "Me too."

"But you know," Pansy started and it wasn't far fetched to believe that the next thing that would come out of her mouth was a sort of 'I told you so', "I bet if you hadn't been with Granger, you wouldn't have been petrified in the first place."

"Wow, the first time Parkinson said something smart," Blaise said, "But if you wanna keep hanging out with her and getting into all sorts of situations like that, by all means go for it."

Romina shot the boy in question a sour smile. "I missed you too, Blaise."

"No, but I think Pansy might have a point there," Daphne spoke up, "You should stay clear of her and Harry and Ron. You don't want to get into more trouble like that."

"I have known Harry my entire life," Romina said, "So has Arden. We're not splitting up for anything. And besides, it wasn't Harry's fault."

"No, it was probably your fault for sticking your nose where it didn't belong, huh?" Draco asked her.

"I missed you too, Draco."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Sarcasm was not missed. And I'm telling the truth, aren't I? Tell us right now that you didn't get yourself petrified because you were doing something you shouldn't have been doing?"

Romina put her fork down on her plate and turned her body in Draco's direction. "You know, that's a lot of talk for someone who always sticks their nose where it doesn't belong. I had to learn it from somewhere, didn't I? What, with it coming with the 'pureblood' label, right?"

"Yeah, things are definitely back to normal," Arden said with a beam on her face. Meanwhile, Romina and Draco were stuck in a glare-off.

McGonagall interrupted them shortly afterwards to gather their attention at the front table. Dumbledore rose from his centered seat and began addressing them. "Before we begin our feast, let's give a round of applause to Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey, whose Mandrake Juice has been successfully administered to all those who had been petrified."

Of course everyone gave an applause.

"Also, in the wake of recent events, as a school treat, all exams have been cancelled."

The entire room burst into a new sense of applause.

The front door burst open to reveal Hagrid coming in. Everyone silenced but Hagrid sheepishly smiled. "Sorry I'm late. The owl deliverin' my release papers got all lost 'n confused. Some ruddy bird named Errol."

Romina giggled remembering the old owl Ron was always embarrassed over. Soon, however, they were drowned out on account of almost the entire school clapping and cheering for the return of Hagrid. Needless to say, the night was full of joy and lots and lots of food.

~0~

When it came time to leave for the Hogwarts Express, no student was left in deception. With no work and all friends returned, who could bother to be sad? All the way back on the express, talking was incessant. Among the topics was being petrified. Hermione surprised Romina with the information that she heard a lot more than Romina had for some reason. That was how Romina found out who had given her the secret Valentine day card.

"That was sweet of him," Romina said with a small smile. Apparently, she was the only one out of everyone who didn't get the memo about Angel's crush. Hermione didn't have the courage to tell her at that moment either.

"Okay, guys," Harry suddenly changed topics and had taken out a quill and parchment. Hermione and Romina recognized a number, more importantly that it was Harry's phone number.

"This is called a telephone number," Harry said for Ron's benefit. "I told your dad how to use a telephone last summer — he'll know. Call me at the Dursleys', okay? I can't stand another two months with only Dudley to talk to. . . ."

"Hey, thanks," Romina sarcastically waved a hand.

"You know what I mean," Harry said as he handed his number to Ron and Hermione.

"Well, in that case, I'll give my number to Hermione and Ron, and not you," Romina stuck her tongue out at Harry.

"Rom, I already have your number."

"Shut up, Harry."

"Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won't they?" Hermione asked when they got off the train and spotted the Dursleys with their grim faces. It was nothing compared to Romina's cheerful grandparents waiting just behind them.

Harry snorted. "Proud? Are you crazy? All those times I could've died, and I didn't manage it? They'll be furious!"

"What a lovely world it is at the Dursleys'," Romina apologetically patted Harry on the back. "Don't worry, Arden and I can keep you company. Speaking of, I should probably go find her. I can't trust that she and Pansy won't try to kill each other by the end of the train ride. How they manage to survive without me is beyond me."

"You're like the peace mediator, then?" Harry mused. He knew Romina all too well. She had a kind heart but could also be a bit of an instigator as well. It was all fun when she did it to Dudley - hilarious, actually.

Romina's smirk was promising. "Something like that."

A/N:

End of Book 2! Once again, Book 3 will continue within the same story ;)

#ocappreciation #fd: harry potter #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fics #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x oc #harry potter fics #harry potter imagines #hp #hp fics #hp imagines #oc: Romina Oswell #fic: Legacies

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quackcicle-real · 1 year

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fic masterlist !

feel free to request something from me! i looove writing, i mostly main connor and quackity !, but tbh if i do research i will write anyone <3

quackitys closure - quackity travels in time with karl, but something goes a little funky. he tries to go along with it but eventually sees a familiar face

am i really that bad? - the dealer and mr. mask are neck and neck villain and superhero !!! they are arch enemies !! meanwhile, quackity and dream are best friends that Love to cause chaos <3

loving is easy when everything's perfect - quackity runs a museum with his fiances (karl and sapnap), and tubbo likes to visit him and they hang out and they are just very happy

i hope we both die - There was nothing left to do. Las Nevadas had finally fallen apart. The team was gone and people fully evacuated. It didn’t matter how many times Quackity assured them it was safe, and Dream would never get them, they didn’t listen. Nobody listened. So there he sat. In his office, in his country that he tried so hard to keep together. In his country he formed out of heartbreak, and grief, and loss. In his country that was doomed from the beginning. Just like Quackity, everything was doomed for him.

i loved you then and i loved you now - connor, for the first time since they met, shares with schlatt about his gender and asks him for help

close your eyes, so afraid. hide behind that baby face - dream was given peony when he was 14 years old from a godly figure. he was given no explanation, though he was promised shed be taken back. its hard, being 14 and raising a daughter, but it gets better. thats what phil promised him.

happy times together we've been spending. i wish every kiss was never ending. - dia de los muertos. a day to celebrate the dead. to celebrate the lives of those who were once there, and enjoying that they eisted to begin with. quackity used to love the holiday season, but now it were spent alone. it was spent doing work for his nation. he didn't do anything for most part, other than dia de los mertos. a tradition taken from his mom, to show respect. what a life.

let me take this coat and this weight off of your shoulders - tubbo doesn't want to be a villain. he hates being a villain. but he's there for tommy. he's always there for his best friend. and tommy promised that he'll fix everything.

you've got my whole world in your hands, got that little blue spot - again and again, connor dies. he's finished up in a world, he's played his entire course. each time he dies, he fails, he meets xd. and has to look them in the eyes. for once, they don't look at him with anger. instead, for once, they look at him with kindness.

i need you now, i love you so much, more than you could know - the sbi throw a holiday party!! (so many people are attending ....)

i try so hard to be so happy, are you happy too? - an apocalypse caused by the revival of people! schlatt and wilbur stick together because of their history. connor eventually joins them because hes immune. connor thinks they need a little bit of holiday spirit ! :)

no, i dont care about anything at all. but i still stop and stare everytime that you call - connor and schlatt have a little talk

vvv LATEST FIC vvv

im starving, darling. let me put my lips on something - schlatt hates bad jokes, but thats all connor can do. how is he gonna get out of this one ?!

#sleepy writes #<-my writing tag

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ranboo5 · 2 years

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okay poll question because i love seeingnpeoples different opinions about this. if you were to make a dsmpswap au, who would get swapped (mainly for benchtrio)

OMG ONLY VETERAN FOLLOWERS REMEMBER ERET SMP

I haven't thought about Eret SMP in a while bc of how hard it diverged BUT !

Tubbo founds L'Manberg with Fundy and Tommy it's meant to be just a little technicality

Mostly to tax evade from Eret, who is a little detached from the concept of consequences after having reincarnated for so long

They found it around Tommy's birthplace for Extra Legitimacy lots of hay is made about him being "born there" even though the country came second. It's clear he has little affinity for the finesse so Tommy gets to be poster boy mostly. It's okay they're still besties (for now)

Wilbur gets brought on for some Pizzazz

Dream is part of these shenanigans for a while but has a falling out due to creative differences which later escalates via negotiations with Eret which involve op power on the table

Things resolve. Phil, who is just kind of hanging out, and Foolish, who is not yet apotheosed, join the country. Wilbur is hard at work at the news factory. Cabinetduo have a falling out

Schlatt who has been causing problems for a second sees an opportunity or maybe Q does or maybe they both do and the coalition stays the same with the technical circumstances reversed. Wilbur gets distracted writing for these guys Tubbo keeps trucking (/th) and Fundy calls a friend

Violently abdicated prince of the End 11ft tall full enderman Ranboo, the Beloved (/so much th) is a little reluctant but to date has never said no to Helping A Bro Out. No one in the Pogtopia analog would ever lie to him <- real and true

It was not real and true Niki of Niki Beats Hardcore series fame shows up to the server amidst unimaginable chaos and at least one wither named TWITCH.TV/RANBOOLIVE

When frequent-enlistee Tormented By Visions recently-zombie piglin Technoblade of [Skyblock] Epic Revolution Prank (GONE WRONG?!) (GONE FATAL?!?!) fame shows up he is hoping this will go marginally less badly than that. He is immediately roped into chasing down a fleeing serial terrorist who has been having a continual breakdown for the past month so that's probably a bad sign

(While all this is going on it does have to go mentioned that Dream has been suffering the effects of receiving and losing op power repeatedly as Eret goes back and forth on the matter, which is doing weird ass things to him. Girl help he's melting and it's making everyone profoundly uncomfortable)

This isn't really smth I can fit in the continuity but JManifold IS a resurrection god and also Sam and Puffy r swapped and That's the lore I remember and/or stand by

Also the revival book is just the nuke schematics bc when we made the AU the book was basically just a relevant MacGuffin and nobody liked it so that swap worked at the time and now that's just more and worse divergence

#This isn't the full lore but these r the main swaps I remember and the lore bits I'm standing by

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syregn · 14 days

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Today — for the first in months, Zae — I look back at our messages and I just cried.

I try not to think of you, except for in therapy, because it’s better that way. But I remember the switch. It happened before all of what I did during that 6 month period. And I don’t understand why.

I deserve love and care. You gave it to me sometimes. At first, all you ever did was build me up. And I’ve learned radical acceptance of the past. I like to only look and move forward now because that’s what’s the healthiest and I’m happy, stable, and sober. The fog as lifted.

But I don’t understand why you put me down. I get why you had trust issues and I understand I was a drunk who hurt the beautiful heart and soul you have a lot. I placed a lot of my burdens on you and that wasn’t fair. But you saw me hurting. You couldn’t change me and you tried to make me see the light. But nights like tonight when I look back — which I shouldn’t — remind me of why I deserve this healthy relationship and all the support and understanding I get.

Our love was different. It was turbulent. It was passionate. The highs felt like heaven— like I wanted to be with you until I died, like I never wanted it to end. The lows felt like hell— like I was a disappointment, a failure; I wanted to die.

You have so much love in your heart to give out. your love and affection was deep, endless. Your touches were tender and soft, delicate– like you were afraid of hurting me. Like you were trying to heal what was broken. You are a kind and generous person on the outside, also very much so sometimes within; but there is so much hurt on the inside, hurt — by which for so long I wished I could just kiss and make it better, to take it all away from you, I would have taken it myself — I pray every night that you are receiving or will receive the treatment for and the healing you have deserved for so long. I pray for everyone in my life, but I pray for you too. And I pray that you can forgive me for the horrible things I did. But I wonder sometimes if you see the pain you caused me, I wonder if you look back and feel remorse for calling me those names you did, if you think I’m still deserving of what happened that night. We both played a part. But I mean if you truly recognise the damage you caused.

I constantly say I’m sorry. I apologise for everything I do, the smallest mistakes, the most tiny errors in my words. I ask if I’m being too much. I fear I’m not nearly doing enough. I worry if that, I say the wrong thing, the people in my life will leave me or think lesser of me. I fear that people will forever view me as the monster mess & wreck of a person I was as a drunk and forget all the fond memories we had together; I worry frequently that the people I hold closest in my life are mad at me over nothing. I am reassured every time now. But I still do it. And it’s taken a lot of unlearning, I’m still constantly unlearning. But I gave you my heart so many times and you shattered it so much. I loved you and I do believe you loved me in your own way. But you must realise you verbally abused me. I pray that you’ve healed and done better. I ask god to revive me to who I was before I met you. Not that i regret anything because it brought me to where I am now. But I miss who I was before I truly believed for so long that I was unworthy of love. That i was just a fucktoy to my partners because I couldn’t provide anything else. That I was incapable of being smart, that I smoked too much and sang like shit. That nobody would ever want me and that you were all I was ever going to have. Because I believed you.

I just guess I’m writing this because I believe sometimes you may still check. And I truly hope you have a healthy and happy life. I believe from the bottom of my heart that everyone deserves to feel comfortable in their own skin and I was cruel myself. I didn’t mean what I said those times I put you down too. And I’m sorry for all of it. I drank myself into a stupor and no amount of sorries negates the damage my actions caused.

I try to remember the good memories when I think back to you, but when I think of how you still probably talk or think about me I think you only see the drunk girl who was too lost to provide anything of worth. That much is true. But I know you saw me and tried to build me up the best that you could. And when you realised I wasn’t going to get better, you gave up. Which is completely fair.

You just need to know the effect. Because it’s real. Not like I don’t believe I didn’t deserve consequences for my actions. But it lingers in my behavior and my self worth. I still sometimes slip up and catch myself internally calling myself ugly, that when I smile I look like a witch. Staring at the mirror and sexualising myself because I don’t believe I’m capable of critical thought.

It’s nobody’s fault, but it’s everyone’s fault. And it’s over. Thank god, it’s best. But the pain, when I do think of you, which I try not to, shatters me. But tonight, I lay in my bed, curled up into a ball, clutching my blanket, and cry cathartic tears. Tears of joy for where I am and who I’ve decided to surround myself with and tears of a grief so deep it aches my heart and body and soul. The dislocation of my worth was the cost of my love and my horrible, terrible drunken actions. I nearly drank myself to death hoping to never wake up again. But each morning I wake up grateful to be alive and sober, the fog having lifted. Grateful for our time, remorseful of the past, and yet fully confident that my love and commitment I take with me into everything I do is enough.

I don’t want to make you feel bad. I don’t care who you show this to. This is what I need right now. And this is the last time I will address you. You were my greatest passion and my deepest downfall. You were, for a time, the air I breathed, and someone I was terrified of losing or angering.

Love her. I pray that you are loving her with all your heart and I’m grateful and happy to see you doing well and thriving with the support and care that you have been longing to give. But don’t make the same mistakes again. I hope you saw the impact in Lorin and I’m telling you now the impact it has had on me. If you ever had any care for me, which I know you once did, take what I say next with all the openness and compassion that I know you have.

Learn from everything.

And don’t do it ever again.

Be the loving and absolute badass bitch you know that you are. Dance until your legs hurt. Do what you enjoy, never stop.

But heed my pain I reap here and know that I don’t think of you often. I loved you and I’m grateful for the time that we had. That I will forever hate the people we became together. When I do think of you, I cry tears of joy and tears of grief. You are mostly now a passing thought. But, every time I do think of you, I will pray for you.

Every time.

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wraithcxre · 11 months

Text

a looming feeling of unsettling dread

unkempt nails bit until the bed

feelings left unsaid

have left me hopeless and dead

maybe i am a masochist

because i still long for his kiss

that made me forget the tears

and all of his unintentioned, casted fears

even if you do not apologize

i had already forgiven you

deep down you didnt mean to

hurt me, you just havent yet realized

you were always slow when it comes to these

you make me wait and wait i shall

but forgive me if i would fall

please understand that i have tried

i forget how to untense my body to sleep

because all i could ever do is weep

thinking about him makes me sick

i puke and vomit until i am bleak

but then, my hands are duly tied

and all the blood in my arms have dried

this has left me feeling like i died

and i could no longer be revived

i wonder, "is there's anything more i could do?"

or maybe it was because i was too much

i wonder what i lacked that burned the match

i tear myself apart until i am blue

i fear the day when i love again

because even if it hurts, i wish not to forget

the times we shared and when we met

i choose to bask myself in this painful end

it is the worst kind of sabotage

to endure this kind of torment and barrage

it's self inflicted, maybe i do deserve

the pain that runs endlessly in my nerves

i'm sorry i couldn't ever be enough

i wish i could make this pain come to a stop

all i ever do is love until i suffocate

because of everything that i am afraid

all i ever really wanted is

to be held until "it" goes away

to be treated with kindness would be bliss

but it seems all i am asking is of no way

what is the point of life

when nobody understands

how it feels to constantly endure strife

in a cursed life that has always spanned

i wanna be loved and held at my worst

a hand to hold when things go mad

in a patient embrace i want to be nursed

something that i never had

i dont want someone who runs off with someone else

then shifts the blame all onto me

leaving me to be the one who couldnt see

my way out of these fiery hells.

i would be so forgiving if only you admit

your wrongs, to never have them done again

how could i stop repeating my complaint

if you redo all these things, they never end

earnest apologies appease me easy

if only you saw that, we'd be happy

but you always saw first your pride

instead of the future together where i was the bride

it has never been about the gifts

or grandest of gestures, all those silly shit

it was always the little things

that mattered to me.

i hope you realize when i talk about what i feel

it was never a fight, i too, wanted to heal

i never wanted to anger you

i wanted to be your refuge

how could i, though, if you didnt pour love

i have my needs too, and you slowly pulled out

youve been unfaithful, you refused to do your part

and now i am left to piece the parts of my heart

youre so cruel but i love you too much

to wish you the same illness and torment

you have inflicted on me, but maybe it is just as such

i hope you are happy wherever you went

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thenexusofsouls · 1 year

Note

What was the muse you mentioned you were planning to revive? I'm so curious :o Also lmaoo poor Tony, adopting Nebula right after he already lost a "child" (Peter) and right before becoming an actual father... now, Nebula might reunite with him in the afterlife. Tbh it's looking like a few gotgs are gonna die.. which... *LOUD EXHALE* They are such comfort characters I love these weird ass space misfits 💔

{i am the caretaker of souls} Honestly, death is not the worst thing that can happen to MCU characters in my opinion. I mean... look at Wanda and Vision, heh. Wanda’s been just mentally destroyed and gone down a very dark path, and Vision... *sigh* Poor Vision. Leaving him dead would have been better for him and for fans, I think. To refurbish him like a cell phone was just... I know White Vis was in the comics and all that, but I was really hoping they wouldn’t go there in the MCU... and they did. I prefer a good death to a bad one, or to writers just screwing up the character and disappointing fans.

There are plenty of characters where, even though they died, they had good deaths and frankly their lives would have been hell if they’d still gone on living for various reasons. Some muses I used to write or still do have had those kinds of deaths, where they died protecting others in some heroic fashion that either redeems them somewhat or at least has them go out on a good note to be remembered positively for. Carlos from the Resident Evil live action movies comes to mind. Also, Luther from Red Widow. And I would’ve said Vision too had he um... stayed dead. Pietro, certainly, although I have a lotta problems with the setup and mechanics of his death, but... yeah, he died a hero and there’s no better way to go out.

I’m fine with a character I love dying as long as that death is A Good Death™, it’s meaningful, and it leaves fans on a good note. Tony’s death, as rough as it was for fans, was definitely a good one for him that let him go out a hero and in a way that fans will always remember him positively for. I prefer this... to... A Bad Death™, where it’s meaningless or overly terrible for fans or it’s just poor writing and doesn’t make sense. Or, and this is the one I hate the most, a death that is an insult to a lotta things the character holds dear, identifies as, or stands for. Ned Stark from GoT/ASoIaF, for example. Also, I would argue and have argued in the past, Nuada from Hellboy II.

And characters don’t have to die to be ruined. Steve Rogers, I’m looking at you. What they did to him in the MCU was terrible. There aren’t many things that I outright reject from canon, but his ending in Endgame is one of them. Completely out of character and bad writing. I would have preferred him to die heroically like Tony than for the writers to do that to him. I am not an arrogant person (or most times, even a confident person, heh), but I could have written him a better ending than those writers did. But anyway, my point is... just have hope that, if they do kill off some GotG people, they get A Good Death™ and aren’t ruined by the writers, heh.

Okay. Now. As far as the muse I was thinking of reviving... yeeeeeah, I was actually hoping nobody remembered that I said that, haha. Only because I said that and then things got crazy in my life and now I don’t foresee having the time to bring back an old muse as complex as him right now. I still want to revive him, I just need time to re-watch his movie, go through his blog and re-familiarize myself with all my headcanons and a ton of aspects of his life that I fleshed out beyond canon, and I do have a fanfic that I stopped writing a few years ago that I really should go back and finish. If I can do all of those things, I think I can get back into writing him.

He’s not the kind of muse I want to just jump into, and after 3-4 years of him being quiet and me not writing him at all, I know he’s going to come out a bit different than before. I’m a different person now than I was 4 years ago. A lot has happened in my life, not all of it good, and that’s fine, but I need to find my voice with him where it stands now and not necessarily try to emulate the way I used to write him. So yeah, it’s just a matter of having the time to do all of this. I have a 6-day hiatus coming up, but it’s for work, so I’m not sure I’m going to have time then, but then I’m off for a month (which honestly is more like three weeks because I need to start prepping early before Spring semester), so... I’m optimistic that maybe I’ll have time then? *shrugs* I’ll try.

But umm... yeah he’s actually a muse I already mentioned earlier, heh. Nuada from Hellboy II. I want to bring him here and make him a private muse, only because his blog still has like 600+ followers and I can’t take on that kind of new activity right now. Also, because I know he’s going to come out different after such a long hiatus from writing him, I kindof want to distance myself from my old blog and the way I used to write him before. If his was a side blog, I would probably archive or delete and start a new one, but because it’s my main that all my other rp blogs are sides of, I can’t get rid of it, and I don’t want him to have his own blog because that will invite a lot more activity than I have time for. So... he’s going to be hiding here on my multi once I can get him set up. But don’t tell him that, because according to him, he never hides from anything. 🙄

#{ i am the caretaker of souls } ᵒᵒᶜ

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

Ranting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)

Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team

Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.

Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.

So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.

It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.

A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.

The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.

Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.

It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.

“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”

At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”

Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.

On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.

“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.

To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.

Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.

The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”

Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.

“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.

This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).

“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”

Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.

“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.

“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”

After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.

Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.

Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.

“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.

Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.

When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.

Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.

“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?

I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.

(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.

After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”

Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #Emily Prentiss x teen!reader #Penelope Garcia x teen!reader #Derek Morgan x teen!reader #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #reid!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

Note

i think that although the theories/aus of puffy's son dream and wil's brother dream are interesting to think about, especially the implications, the (probably) canon statement that he really has no family to me hits the hardest. because it's just dream, you know. his friends hate him, he has none (p relatable), but i can't really imagine,, both not having friends and not having a family. that's kind of what keeps a lot of us sane and okay ( - quill anon (same anon from the c!tubbo c!wil ask) )

ouch quill anon ,, this ask Hurt. it’s true - usually, it’s our family and friends that keep us going, that are the ones that we fight for and live for and love for. c!dream’s “family” was his reasoning behind ,, a lot of the stuff he did, good or bad, and even now you can hear his desperation in getting someone, anyone to visit sometimes, in wanting to know how people are doing outside the cell.

at the same time, he’s a character very much defined by his solitude, by his isolation, by all of the time he has spent,, alone. by the alliances that had been broken, betrayed, forgotten. by how- at the end of the day - he sits for hours on end in an obsidian box with nothing but his thoughts to accompany him. it’s awfully ,, sad, despite everything he’s done. through it all, he’s alone. he survives the horrors of the vault (until this current arc) alone. nobody’s there to hear his thoughts. nobody knows his mindset, or feelings, or wants, or anything that really makes him human. for someone so driven by people, he spends so much time completely isolated - and it’s. honestly really, really tragic.

anyway, this is a sad little drabble set pre-roommates arc abt c!dream in the prison, alone, bc he makes me Sad.

tw: mentioned torture, abuse, violence, broken bones, blood, injuries, mental deterioration, isolation, panic attacks, self-deprecation, trauma, memory loss, death, contemplations of death, dark content, dark imagery

The blank book in his hand stares at him stubbornly, the stark white of the untouched pages nearly burning his eyes, used to the dark walls and floor of the cell. Dream’s hand shakes around his quill, ink splotches marring the pages from where his too-unsteady hand had let the nib brush against the paper and left freckles of black spots behind. He pulls his thumb back from the bottom left corner, hissing slightly when it leaves a dull red fingerprint behind, a smudge of half-dried blood further dirtying the paper.

He’d pulled out one of the books for some reason, probably on a whim, letting his hands run over the leather spine and along the thread of the binding absentmindedly after Quackity left for the day. He hadn’t touched them in a while - he liked to save them, at the beginning, just in case visitors came and he wanted to thank them or if he needed to communicate (though he hadn’t gone silent since Sapnap left, ‘cause Sapnap wanted him to talk and he doesn’t know why he still clings to that visit when it’s been months and he still hasn’t come back, but he promised that if Dream behaved he’d visit again and - it’s stupid to hope, but Dream can’t give up, not yet) and then he kept them because he would need them for the revive book and the Warden would confiscate them, anyway, so it was better not to get attached. Regardless, he’d stubbornly ignored the chest of books for a long time, let the remain closed and the clasp go unlatched as he wasted his days away watching the walls drip bright purple and pretend he didn’t miss his clock.

Until now.

He runs his fingers along the surface of the paper again, ignoring the red and black smudges they leave in their wakes, ruining the previously unblemished pages. The paper is smooth, bearing a very slight grain, and smells clean and woody - this book must’ve been a newer one the Warden replaced into the chest. He’d counted the pages a few times, front and back - there are fifty sheets, so a hundred pages to use as he sees fit, completely empty and untouched. The quill shakes in his hand, the tip pressed against the paper, unmoving.

What is there to write?

He’s forgotten why he pulled out the book in the first place, already - his head keeps getting fuzzier, memory impossibly fragmented and seemingly worsening with every passing day. He knows he had a reason because he’d been very determined about it, had spent what must have been hours dragging himself along the obsidian floor with a broken shinbone jutting out of his right leg and a dislocated left shoulder that he’d taken an extra few minutes to jam back in place by pressing it against the floor. Something had come into his head, probably in the middle of Quackity’s daily session, and he’d found himself desperate to write it down before he forgot despite the throbbing of his head and the pain in his chest making it impossible to take a full breath.

(He must have talked back, or acted defiant, or something - he doesn’t remember much besides the look Quackity had given him after, dark and angry and tight with rage. There had been a hand tangled in his hair, a blade jammed right up against his throat, curses and screams in his ears dying into a singular ringing echo as the blade was pushed deeper and deeper. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when Quackity realized that he’d gone too deep and that Dream was choking on his own blood - his memories shatter, and there’s nothing but more screaming, red and black and blood everywhere, warm against his skin, the sweet-sour taste of glistening melon on his tongue, a healing pot desperately stitching his skin together and bringing him back from the darkness that he’d swelled in the corners of his vision - mostly, he remembers everything going cold and numb and he’d realized, halfway into the Void, that he would never leave the Vault alive.)

His hands tighten on the book as he breathes a shallow, harsh breath through his teeth, because - oh. Oh. He looks back at the trembling white plume in his hand, at his shaking fingers clenched tightly near the end, and he swallows the thick, heavy feeling in his throat. Quackity had- and he had- and then-

Right.

He forces air into his lungs steadily, counting the seconds off in his head. He’d learned how to stave off panic attacks on his own ages ago, and the knowledge had come to full use in the Vault - the struggle to stay calm seems harder with every passing day, but he can’t exactly risk himself passing out every three seconds when he’s inevitably set off by the smell of blood or a twinge of pain or any of the million other triggers crammed into this tiny box that’s been the source of all of his torment for months. He keeps up the slow, steady breathing for another few minutes, just enough time to pull back the darkness creeping in from the edges of his vision, and looks back down at the blank paper.

It stares back at him, almost judgmental of his hesitancy. You opened me up, it seems to challenge him, why aren’t you writing? The quill still shakes in his hand. He doesn’t know if it’ll ever stop shaking again.

Dear, he begins, almost in defiance, proof that he Is Going To Write Something, thank you very much, he isn’t just going to chicken out and leave it a blank book (like you have before?) but the quill tip digs into the paper as he grinds to a sudden halt, the empty space next to the first word nearly taunting. He feels his mouth dry, heat rising behind his eyes - the book, silent and blank as ever, stays imprinted in his vision even as he squeezes them shut.

Dear, what a stupid, sentimental way to start a letter. He can’t even fool himself into thinking of it as a business venture, turn it into an elaborate plan to escape and address it to either Techno or Wilbur (who would never receive his message anyway), not without admitting his regard for the two edged past his pretense of professional interested and owed favors. He can hardly write it to Ranboo, not without compromising their already fragile alliance (if it even exists, anymore. The enderman hybrid had yet to visit for months - and sure, it was probably for the best, who knows how Quackity would react if he found out about the nature of their relationship, but that didn’t make it sting any less.)

In the back of his minds, name rise from where he’d kept them carefully buried despite his best efforts. Punz. Bad. Puffy. Sapnap. George. He shakes his head, trying to wave away them from his thoughts, but the effort is as fruitless as it has always been - he stares at the first word angrily, like it has betrayed him, and receives no response. The words are messy, shaking, his script overly looping and rounded like a child’s. He hates it, hates how cheery it looks, even on the bloodstained page - it looks like the beginning of a birthday card, or a perhaps a particularly dedicated Halloween party invite. Like he’s some sort of lovesick teen, writing letters to crushes that would never pay him a second glance. He laughed a little, without any real humor - minus the romance, that description isn’t all that far off.

Because- well. His memories might be shot to all hell, but he doubts he’ll ever forget the hatred on Sapnap’s face, a loaded crossbow pointed between his eyes, George’s expression set in disinterested apathy - “George, you can give the word.” Bad’s face, twisted in pity and resignation, voice carefully measured as he looks away and gestures at the cell, “you did do some pretty bad stuff to get put in here though, Dream,” the hidden “you deserve it” that he’d heard, just as clearly behind the words. Punz - “you should’ve paid me more” - jaw set stiffly as people poured through the portal, watching, wordless, as Dream bled out twice on that blackstone floor. Puffy, poorly hidden disgust flickering over her face as she looks away from him being dragged away in chains, sword held steady in her hands. Sapnap, that same fiercely determined expression on his face so familiar that thinking of it aches, even now, “it’s gonna be me, who takes your final life.” Months and months and months and months, alone.

Always, always, alone.

The page makes a quiet, complaining groan under his pen - he looks down to see it torn under the tip of his quill, the word completely unreadable under line after line of black ink scratched over it, each one deeper than the last. He stares blankly at it for a few minutes longer, the brief flash of anger that had seared through his body settling into numbness once more.

To whoever may find this: he scratches the words on the page slowly, keeping his print deliberately blocky and neat. The heavy feeling in his throat returns, stronger than ever, and he ignores it as he pushes on.

He pauses for a moment, wondering what more to write. Apologies? Accusations? He could detail every second that he remembers from Quackity’s visits, describe every inch of pain that had been pulled from his aching lungs, every line etched into his skin. He could apologize for every act of cruelty that had ever been caused by his hands, every bridge he’d ever torched to light the path to a better future. He could explain - everything, every tortured thought that had circled his head for hours on end and every night that had passed without any sleep and every time he’d pushed on without complaint or hesitancy because it would be worth it, even if he was the only one who saw it, it would be worth it because he’d sacrifice too much for it to be anything but. He could- he could, he could write and write until he’d filled every page of every book back and front, and would they even believe him? Would it even matter?

Goodbye, he writes at last. It feels strangely final. (He won’t be leaving this Vault alive. He knows this as surely as he knows that he will leave this world uncared for, unheard. As surely as he knows that he’ll always be alone.) With a quick snap of magic following the signing of his name, the book is preserved, shining slightly with a purple glow as he sets it back down in the chest. He looks around, the cell once again stiflingly quiet without the book to busy him, Dream once again completely alone as he’s been for - well.

(Pandas, eyebrows drawn in uncharacteristic seriousness from the usually painfully spirited eight-year-old, pinkie raised between the two of them, solemnity belied by the gap in his front teeth poking out between his lips.

“We’ll be together forever,” he whispered with the volume control you’d expect from a kid that age, which is to say that it wasn’t much of a whisper at all, but Dream, newly ten years old, remembers being particularly moved by the gesture anyway, moving to hesitantly hook his own pinkie in the other’s.

“And we’ll never be alone ever again,” he’d replied, voice faraway with a disbelieving sort of awe.”

“Never,” Pandas’ voice had been just as firm as his first statement, twisting his wrist to tighten the grip of their linked fingers further. “Best friends for ever and ever, right?”

“For ever and ever.”)

“For ever and ever,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut as he slumps down against the floor, and only the lava bubbles in reply.

#tw torture #tw abuse #tw violence #tw broken bones #tw injuries #tw mental deterioration #tw isolation #tw panic attack #tw self deprecation #tw trauma #tw memory loss #tw death #tw dark content #tw dark imagery #-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !!#-> my asks #quill anon !

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linkemon · 3 years

Text

Ishigami Senkū x Reader (selfship)

Selfship made for ajjxcu on Wattpad with a special wish for friends to lovers kind of relationship.

Friendly reminder that English is not my first languge. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

◈ You were in the same class as Senku but in the old world you hardly knew each other. He was a hermit, busy with his scientific work and you had your own circle of friends. It wasn't until he accidentally found you on the beach and recognized your face that he decided to use a revival fluid. In that way you ended up in a village that had already been taken over by the boy.

◈ Innate curiosity is a trait that Ishigami has loved in you since the beginning. You were very fond of his projects. Even if you weren't able to match his intellect (like almost everyone, so you never bothered about it) you made up for it with your energy. You hung around here and there, picking up whatever you could. Suika showed you the paths she usually had walked. You obtained the same amount materials as Chrome. You often gushed about your discoveries. However, you usually knew what you found and he didn't. You felt like he was your younger brother.

◈ Science used your discoveries. You went for the needed items many times. If the mission was dangerous, you would take Kohaku with you. The warrior likes you very much. As your friend, she promised to protect you. However, you happened to collect a few bumps during one of the expeditions. Senku muttered that he expected it because that was what he got out of the probability theory. That is why he waited with a ready handmade ointment of his own production and a bandage. He bandaged you and went back to work.

It was then that Gen began to suspect that there was something going on with the two of you. You dismissed him because you still had his stupid TV shows on your mind. You never believed in his skills. With time, however, you noticed that the mentalist had real talent, and that made you think.

◈ You've always had a complex when it comes to your height. Even in modern times, you have stood out. And in the stone world, people were even shorter. One day, however, Senku was making an experiment. It turned out that you are the only person who is tall enough to help because only you can reach where you need to and you will not destroy everything (like Magma). Nobody knows that Ishigami could actually get the same effect more easily but he wanted to raise your self-esteem...

◈ Senku rarely shows emotion. An eternally busy scientist focuses on saving humanity. However, there were times where you've been alone in a Chrome's storehouse on starry nights. He watched them with you, working, while everyone was asleep. He was telling you about Byakuya then. You also exchanged dreams about the future of the world.

He also couldn't help but smile when he saw your reaction to his makeshift Christmas tree in the form of an ordinary tree with freshly made light bulbs. He knew that you missed the past, and he hoped that this gift would please you the most out of all people.

◈ Sarcasm often comes out of his mouth. You retaliate. Your mean statements do not impress him. He is also like you. He knows perfectly well what you are saying is a joke and what you really mean. You can't hurt him that way.

◈ After Asagiri mentioned about feelings, you started to think a lot. You figured out you really loved Senku. You never expected a proper confession and you didn't get it.

You've finished preparing attack on Tsukasa's army and everyone was excited. Including the scientist who put his arm around you. He said you had to go on a date after winning and then he left. Friends have surrounded you, asking why they don't know anything. Only Gen was smiling sheepishly, saying he was right.

◈ Ishigami's love manifests itself in small things and gestures. He makes extra inventions for you. They don't take much time because he doesn't have it but in his spare time he will try to do the things you are missing. Recently he gave you a tube of toothpaste.

◈ Your concerns manifest itself when you care for your boyfriend's health. He takes on too many things at once and cuts his sleep time to catch on some projects. He claims he has everything calculated to live in an effective way but you make him take breaks. You don't want him to overwork himself. This usually ends up with you chasing after him and yelling.

◈ He dislikes physical contact in front of others. Occasionally, he'll let you grab his hand, but that's it. Only when you are left alone, you have a chance for something more.

◈ This boy doesn't mind sleeping hugged to you. Purely platonic. He won't try anything weird. He just likes knowing you're there. That's when you can hear compliments or nice things from him. However, he is not very good at expressing feelings verbally.

— Senku...

— Hmmm?

— I love you.

— You don't have to say it. I know that for 10 billion percent...

◈ Ishigami is not the most outspoken and affectionate boy but he cares about others in his own way. You're looking forward to your first real date. You are also curious what he will come up with...

#ishigami senku x reader #ishigami senku #dr stone x reader #dr stone #selfship #friends to lovers

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blockgamepirate · 3 years

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Technoblade’s purpose in the political narrative of the Dream SMP

I can’t sleep so I decided to finally write the post I’ve been struggling with for literal months, except way more casual because I can’t be bothered anymore and also I’m sleep deprived.

So the thing is: to me the DSMP storyline has always been primarily political, probably because I was introduced to it through Wilbur who was definitely going for political, and also because I’m just generally interested in political narratives right now. Obviously I appreciate the character work and the personal relationship stuff, that’s what makes it more interesting than just dry allegory, but when it comes down to it, this story is about politics to me. So that’s the angle I’m going to approach it from.

Also not to spoil the conclusions here, but I’m an anarchist, that’s my lens.

(Obviously all of this is about rp from here on out unless otherwise specified)

Basically the situation as Techno joins the server is this: L'Manburg exists as an autonomous nation and is de facto independent although not officially recognised by the Dream SMP. The self-appointed president Wilbur Soot decides to hold an election and rig it in order to consolidate his power over the nation he founded and he gets his VP Tommyinnit to join in on the plan. Their scheme fails and they end up voted out instead. The new president, Schlatt, immediately establishes himself as an authoritarian figure and exiles Wilbur and Tommy.

A couple of points on what the election arc demonstrates:

1: the appearance of democracy can be used for distinctly undemocratic purposes.

2: even if the elections aren’t rigged, the electoral system could be massively flawed and end up favouring a party that in fact didn’t have the popular vote

3: even if the winning government (the coalition in this case) has the majority vote, that doesn’t guarantee that they’ll actually act according to the popular will.

4: the supporters of the losing parties basically just have to let the majority overrule their wishes, espcially since apparently L’Manburg doesn’t have an established role for an opposition, yikes. That’s actually a MAJOR oversight in the system but I’m not gonna go into that too much.

5: frankly as an anarchist I am just deeply cynical towards representative democracy, and just because you have a token appearance of choice and consent doesn’t mean that it isn’t a hierarchical and authoritarian system. And to be fair, from my point of view this applies even to so-called liberal democracies and progressive parties. Full disclosure: even if L'Manburg was the ideal example of a representative democracy (which it very much isn’t) I would still be opposed to it because I fundamentally do not believe in top down systems, even electoral ones.

6: despite all these flaws, all the characters seem to implicitly accept the electoral system as legitimate. There’s criticism against the actions of individual characters acting within the system, such as Quackity calling out Wilbur for trying to rig the election, but nobody is questioning the system itself.

So at this point I’m sitting there, watching all this go down, and thinking “man, this would be so much more bearable if there was an anarchist point of view being represented in the story.”

And hey, look who IMMEDIATELY SHOWS UP.

Okay, I’m not gonna lie, early installation Technoblade is not the best representation of anarchism. I was mostly rooting for him out of sheer contrarianism initially. I didn’t really even care if it would be another Killmonger/Magneto/Zaheer situation because I’m used to reading against the authorial intent when it comes to these things. Sometimes any representation is better than no representation, even with political ideologies. That’s not to say that him just straight up spouting this hobbesian notion of a “dog-eat-dog world” didn’t grate on me, obviously it did.

That kind of worldview of humanity needing authority in order to prevent chaos and conflict is literally antithetical to anarchism and is the favourite talking point of authoritarians, the least anarchist people there are. It’s literally what people use to argue AGAINST anarchism. I think it’s mostly because cc!Techno obviously wasn’t particularly educated on anarchist thought and was just basically having fun roleplaying with his friends at this point. Which is frustrating but fair enough I guess.

Cynical ideas about human nature are pretty deeply rooted in the mainstream, unfortunately, most people just consider it common sense. And like I said, it’s a huge talking point in the propaganda against anarchism.

(… even though in fact these arguments were originally used against proponents of representative democracy. Hobbes himself was very much a monarchist, the idea of letting normal people vote for their representatives would have been terrifying to him. Like surely the world would descent into a free-for-all war, all against all. Imagine letting commoners have OPINIONS, the horror.)

So yeah, that stuff was pretty ehhhhh. It was basically what I’d expected though: cc!Techno isn’t an anarchist and we just don’t get accurate representation from non-anarchists, ever. What I dared to hope was that Techno’s character would at least stay consistent about his opposition to ALL governments. I was pretty sure that he would, even though it seemed like the majority of the fandom at the time was convinced that he would switch over to Schlatt’s side or something. It would have been a really shitty twist, I would have ragequit immediately. I mean what would have been the entire point of his character then? He might as well have been a random mercenary. Why even have his character be an anarchist if you were just going to make him work for a government?

(ftr this is kinda my biggest problem with the Hypixel Skyblock revolution event lol, honestly I think that was a worse depiction of anarchism than early DSMP Technoblade. I mean the speech was good, but… still became a government official, tho. booooooooo, cringe)

And yes, I was rooting against L'Manburg, obviously, and I would have even if it had meant having to deal with another badly written anarchist villain character. I never understood why people saw L'Manburg as the good guys, they were nationalist and exclusionary and their whole existence was based on trying to scam people for money.

I mean they were definitely funny, they were great entertainers. I have no problems with people rooting for them because they’re fun to watch; I did that for a bit too. But people were starting to get really into the story and talk about Wilbur and Tommy, the corrupt politicians, and the country that literally excluded people based on nationality as the heroes, unironically, which was wild to me. And when Wilbur started his “villain arc” well: people called it a villain arc, as if he hadn’t been pretty much a bad guy from the beginning, constantly just out for money and power and taking advantage of the people around him and then pretending to be the victim when challenged. I mean yes he got worse, but I wouldn’t call it a villain arc, more like just a mental breakdown arc.

More importantly, to me L'Manburg represented so many things I hate about the status quo in real life, and seeing the fandom mostly unquestioningly accept it as good just pissed me off. Still pisses me off tbh. I mean, to be diplomatic I could say that I understand the emotional attachment and the way L'Manburg was built up mirrors a lot of how real nations are built and how they create a sense of patriotism out of symbols and a sense of honour and loyalty, and it’s actually really fascinating how it even works in a Minecraft roleplay. Says something about the human mind I guess. Doesn’t mean I have to like it though.

Anyway, I just wanted to see literally any kind of opposition to power, even if it had to come from a character that was unquestionably a villain, which I fully assumed Techno would be. Because political narratives so often just leave us out, or at best barely mention us. And even from a narrative point of view, adding an anarchist perspective to a political story just objectively broadens its scope and actually challenges people who are used to only arguing along the lines of conservative or liberal, welfare state or privatization, nationalism or multiculturalism, etc. Even if the original work dealt with it poorly, at least it would give me the excuse to rant about it on Tumblr, which is kinda why I revived my old Minecraft sideblog for this. (That and pig!Techno fanart.)

Also how can you have a story so fundamentally about power without its counterpoint: the rejection of power?

(Yes, Dream SMP as a whole is definitely a narrative about power, it’s a huge theme for Wilbur, Quackity, Dream, Eret and the Badlanders at least, as well as obviously the anarchist characters from the opposite direction.)

So yeah, the build up to November 16th for me was mainly about the anticipation for what Techno would do, how would Techno’s character respond to the seemingly inevitable formation of a new government. THAT was the point of interest for me, that was what I was the most invested in. Would we get an actual anarchist opposition as a new side to the conflict or would they just awkwardly drop that whole angle? Or even have him team up with Schlatt like a complete sellout? There was so much potential but I worried they might just waste it.

And I was right to worry since apparently in the original script Techno wasn’t supposed to do anything, he was just there to help fight Schlatt and witness the explosion along with everyone else.

And WOW that would have been so incredibly boring

Not even just from the political perspective, just talking about the narrative in general terms here: imagine November 16th without Techno’s plot points. Not only would it have been boring for Techno’s character but it would have been equally boring for basically everybody but Wilbur and Philza. An anticlimactic fight followed by a big explosion that pretty much everybody had seen coming already. Yes, the button room scene is dramatic and heartbreaking… for Wilbur and Phil. But nobody else was there to see it. For everybody else, it was just a big explosion. It would have been such a huge disservice to anyone watching the other POVs.

Techno’s intervention gave everyone an ACTUAL climactic fight, it allowed characters other than Wil and Phil to witness some actual drama happening and to participate in it, rather than just waiting around for the explosion, while also foreshadowing the explosion. Even better, it provoked SO MUCH discussion in the fandom AND gave a perfect hook for future conflicts to arise. Wilbur’s end was tragic but it was, at the time, final. L'Manburg would have still suffered a catastrophe but it would have been left with just the same exact antagonist as before: Dream.

And at this point Dream’s core goals had barely changed, just his approach was now different. Yes, that makes a difference for the plot, but it doesn’t really change much in terms of ideological conflict. Especially since there really isn’t that big of an ideological difference between Dream and Tommy, because arguably neither of them are particularly big on ideology in the first place, they just have conflicting goals and use different tactics to achieve those goals (well, the tactics aren’t always even that different *cough Spirit cough*).

Techno’s conflict with Tubbo and especially Quackity (and honestly most of the other characters in general) brings in so much more depth to the story, just by introducing another angle, not to even mention how much it brings to focus questions about power and violence. These are themes that exist in other characters’s storylines too but nowhere in the same way or as central as with Techno.

I’m getting kind of ahead of myself here, though.

The real twist of November 16th was the fact that Techno WASN’T a straight up villain, actually. It was a twist to me anyway, because with all my cynicism I just didn’t see it coming, I didn’t expect him to actually start making reasonable criticisms. I didn’t expect him to drop the hobbesian arguments entirely and start making points that actually sounded like anarchism.

I have to assume that cc!Techno must have seen some of the criticisms of his character and been inspired to adjust because the difference is pretty notable.

(Sidenote: I’m just forever kinda sad that Techno’s “I may seem like the villain here” monologue was cut from the video and most people never heard it.)

And I felt SO validated by the way, because it works so well in the story! Everyone is mostly content with the restoration of a status quo of some sort, Schlatt is gone, this is supposed to be the good ending, and then Techno calls them all out and turns the narrative around completely: This was just a coup d'état. This was just the previous political leadership retaking power by force. Why is everyone celebrating the same exact system that lead to Schlatt’s authoritarian rule in the first place?

What he does there is force the audience to question the narrative they’ve been presented so far, that they’ve accepted without a thought. It might not convince them, but they can’t just ignore it either.

Whatever you wanna say about the discourse around Techno on that day, in the ideological narrative THIS IS THE IMPORTANT PART. Not who betrayed who or when is political violence justified, that’s about personal relationships and morality and it’s mostly all more relevant to the aftermath than the event itself. In my opinion, the REAL point in the moment is that the characters and the audience were comfortable with the ending only to be presented with a completely new perspective on the events.

It also recontextualises the finale, including Wilbur’s actions! It’s a much more ambiguous end to the Pogtopia vs Manburg arc and to Wilbur’s original run as the head writer. Wilbur’s “even with Tubbo in charge I don’t think [that ‘special place’] can exist again” is vague enough to be dismissed as just part of his paranoia and internal conflict, but with Techno, there’s a concrete question: what if Tubbo, given the same powers as Schlatt, will turn out to be just a new Schlatt? And suddenly you have to wonder what Wilbur meant by his words too. And was all this foreshadowing something about L’Manburg’s future?

Okay I’ve only made it to November 16th and there’s so much more DSMP to talk about but the post is getting too long and I’m starting to lose my energy. Will I ever make a part two? No idea. But I’ll try.

Standard disclaimer: I’m not the spokesperson of anarchism, other anarchists might disagree with my reading

#technoblade #bladeblr #dream smp #dreamsmp #dsmp #l'manburg critical #c!wilbur soot critical #for courtesy tags #anarchy pog

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years

Text

Dream SMP Recap (May 22/2021) - Pursuit of Peace

Quackity goes searching for new recruits to join him in Las Nevadas.

Foolish wonders if his way of life is really working towards peace, or if he needs a change.

Ranboo builds up the stronghold room for his Enderwalk experiments.

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

Quackity

Foolish

Ranboo

---

LAS NEVADAS: EPISODE THREE

---

Quackity rides a white horse and overlooks the construction site where the plans for Las Nevadas have been laid out. There is a montage that shows Quackity in New L’manburg, then hunting down Techno in the Final Control Room.

Techno strikes him down and Quackity wakes up at Spawn with a bloody scar over one eye.

There is a rapid timelapse showing the buildings of Las Nevadas getting built one by one. Slot machine sound effects play in the background, then Quackity’s voice:

“Let’s start this hit list. Who’s on the hit list? Dream and Technoblade. If we go after Dream first, we’ll have government, and then Techno will go after us. So let’s just -- let’s just attack the problem from the goddamn root.”

Another rapid-cut montage of Quackity walking down the path to the prison, then a full view of Pandora’s Vault...

---

- Quackity is in the cell with Dream, telling him he’ll show him which weapon he’ll use to torture him this time. He puts an axe up on the wall. While Quackity is talking, Dream suddenly runs up to try and take the axe. Quackity hits him back and grabs it

- Dream cowers in the corner of the cell, pleading, while Quackity shouts at him

Quackity: “You do that again, and it’s over for you. Don’t fucking ever do that again. You understand?”

Dream: “Yes.”

Quackity: “Don’t ever reach for any of my fucking weapons ever again. Okay?”

Dream: “Yes, sir.”

- Quackity says these visits have gotten tiresome, and he’s busy. The Netherite barrier wall is put up between them and the lava. Dream tells him he doesn’t have to visit anymore.

Quackity: “No, I do, I do. This is what you don’t understand, Dream. This is what you don’t understand, okay? I do, I do have to come, every single day, so I can remind you, every bad shit you’ve ever done to me, to any other person on the server -- I have to come every day to remind you, otherwise I think you’ll end up forgetting, and I don’t think I want you to forget.”

Dream: “Forget -- I won’t forget -- I promise you I won’t forget!”

- Quackity asks him when was the last time he saw Technoblade. Dream says it was a little bit before he was put in the prison.

- Quackity asks what their relationship is like, and Dream describes Techno as one of his only allies. Quackity throws Dream a book and quill and tells him to get writing: a note to Technoblade to get him to visit the prison

- If he writes the note and doesn’t ask any questions, then he’ll give Dream a week’s break from the torture. Dream thinks he’s lying and refuses to write the note

- Dream suggests Sapnap instead and Quackity snaps.

Quackity: “If you don’t do that shit, then we’re gonna have issues, alright? You know what? I’m kinda sick and tired of these fucking visits now that I think about it. I’m actually sick and tired! I don’t like ‘em anymore! They’re boring, they really don’t serve any much more purpose, I don’t like ‘em anymore Dream. So this is what we’re gonna do. You either write that goddamn note, or I will kill you. I am not joking, I will fucking kill you, I don’t care anymore, I don’t --”

“What is it, the book? Are you threatening me with the fucking revival book, Dream? Guess what, Dream? I don’t CARE anymore about the book! I don’t give a crap about the fucking book anymore! You understand me? I don’t give a shit! I’ve lost interest in that thing! At this point, the only reason I come and torture you so much, every single day, is merely as a reminder, because at the end of the day, no matter how many times I fucking torture you, that will never amount the amount of fucking evil you’ve done to this entire server and everyone in it--”

Dream: “It’s -- it’s ‘cause you LIKE IT! You LIKE torturing me!”

Quackity: “You know what? You know what? I might, I might. I don’t give a shit, I don’t care what it is, what the reason is, if you don’t write that goddamn note -- I’m going to kill you, Dream. I am going to kill you.”

- Dream says Sam wouldn’t let Quackity kill him, but Quackity points out that Sam is beyond the lava wall, and he can deal with Sam later if need be. Dream shouts that he wouldn’t.

- Quackity starts swinging the axe around, then starts stabbing Dream while Dream begs for him to stop. Dream agrees to write it.

Quackity tells him what to write:

“Dear Technoblade...”

Chapter One.

There’s a village at night. It’s raining.

Easy job.

Foolish is there.

No innocents.

Big reward.

Easy money.

He draws his bow.

Peaceful heist.

He shoots the arrow into the village.

The village is ablaze and full of lava, people are screaming. Foolish rides off on a horse.

THE PURSUIT OF PEACE

- A bell rings. It’s Las Nevadas, and Quackity coughs, eating, while Sam comes through the door and sits down in front of him. Quackity asks where Sam found the villager running the restaurant. Sam says he just showed up, and Quackity scolds him for hiring someone random

- Quackity hands him a book with potential roles for candidates, people to join Las Nevadas. Sam says he thought he was going to hire George, Sapnap and Karl. They both pause before Sam says he was kidding

- Quackity asks Sam to tell him about Foolish. Sam has read that Foolish isn’t a good person. Quackity scoffs, but Sam says the two of them haven’t done anything inherently bad, and everything they do is just for justice

Quackity: (laughing) “Yeah, ‘justice.’”

- Foolish used to kill a lot of people. A job gone wrong written about in old history texts. Quackity still thinks he’d be a great option.

- In the future, who’s going to protect them? Sam knows what happened with Quackity and Techno, and they need some force in their team. Sam is still skeptical

---

- Quackity greets Foolish at the summer home entrance, asking how he’s holding up after the Banquet, the places he’s affiliated with

- Foolish is done with contract work for Kinoko Kingdom. Quackity asks him if he’d like to join Las Nevadas. Foolish is honored, but he’s happy at his summer home. As Quackity presses him on it, Foolish keeps insisting

Quackity: “I know who you are, if that makes a little more sense...I’ve done my research, Foolish, I have my connections. I know what type of person you are, if you get what I mean...”

- Foolish tells him this peaceful life has worked

Foolish: “I believed peace could be found through the sword, you know? Fighting. That doesn’t work, okay. That just leads to fear, to power, to hatred, resentment, all of that, okay, it’s a mess. The only thing I did was accelerate war, okay? That doesn’t work. So I pushed back, I ran from it all, and this is good! I’m in a much happier place!”

- Quackity then says he wants to buy Foolish’s summer home from him...for one diamond. Foolish is taken aback as Quackity explains that for all the work Foolish has put into this, it’s just a build.

No one stays here, they just admire and leave it. It is an empty shell that’s beautiful on the outside, but on the inside, it’s decaying, something that will disappear in time with no one to remember it...much like Foolish himself.

Quackity: “On the inside, everybody knows you’re...just a builder. And I was hoping, at some point, you would realize this...after I let you die at the Red Banquet.”

- Foolish is shocked. Quackity was behind those walls and he could have saved Foolish, but instead he watched him die. Foolish draws his trident, and Quackity asks if he would really take a life

Quackity: “I did it for you. I let you die because I wanted a better version of you.”

- He wanted Foolish to realize that this life as a builder would get him hurt, and he needs to go back to his old ways: feared, not a nobody

Foolish: “You threw away my life for some kind of fucking sales pitch!”

“Power...power...damn you, Qua -- what makes you think you’re any better, huh?! How’s that worked out for anyone else that’s been here? Dream? Wilbur? Schlatt? How’d that go, huh? What makes you any better, different, than them?”

- Quackity doesn’t need a sales pitch, his country is already big and other people would take the offer.

The reason he came to Foolish is because Quackity sees himself in Foolish: someone who once saw peace and betterment of people as the way to live. It brought him nothing but suffering, and Foolish has potential

The offer still stands.

Chapter Two.

An old-fashioned documentary plays about: the Slime!

Slimes are morphing elements that can morph into just about anything, even blocks. Is Dwane “The Rock” Johnson slime?

---

- Quackity glides down onto the roof of the restaurant in a ninja outfit and elytra, setting up redstone and TNT in the floor. There’s a bit of slime on the wall and he’s disgusted, running out. This is why he wants to kill the owner of this place

- He mines into the wall only for Charlie Slimecicle to pop out. Quackity knocks him out

- When Charlie wakes up, he’s stuck in a hole and Quackity is interrogating him, asking who he is. Charlie says he is a definitely “goobless guy” who has many bones.

Charle: “Dap me up!”

- As Charlie describes what happened, it becomes clear that Charlie has overheard all sorts of passing conversations and knows a lot. He knows too much, and Quackity has to kill him

- Quackity asks what else he knows. Charlie gets distracted by the snow, which Quackity teaches him is called “coke”

- Charlie saw Foolish, the purple guy, he knows of a green guy, a red-shirt blond guy, a dead-but-not-anymore-guy. Quackity asks about the dead guy, who Charlie describes as “sooty”

- Quackity realizes that Charlie is an accidental spy and tells Charlie this is just a friendly greeting, he can give Charlie a home. He coughs again and tells Charlie that a spy is a friend, and Charlie will be his spy as the two walk off together

Chapter Three.

---

ONE WEEK BEFORE THE RED BANQUET

---

A purple-tinged POV of a person walking down the path through the Community House as Quackity and Sam talk in the background.

It’s been so long, he might be dead in the woods somewhere, but Quackity insists that Purpled is perfect for their country. Sam doesn’t think he would ever join, doesn’t think he would ever affiliate with anyone.

What about a job?

The UFO is destroyed.

If Quackity offers him a one-time job, Purpled would take it. Once he has Purpled’s attention, Quackity can do something to reel him in to join the country.

Rowing to the skull base...

Sam says Purpled’s UFO is still there, but abandoned. He moved out along time ago. Quackity has a plan...

---

- Quackity and Sam are talking by Eret’s Museum. Sam is in charge of keeping an eye out for Purpled. Sam protests -- he’s the Warden and Quackity is breaking and entering, and he’s not supposed to break the law.

- Quackity has a stack of TNT. He climbs up the UFO and starts placing TNT everywhere inside

- Purpled logs on right in front of him and immediately starts attacking, but stops when Quackity threatens to light the TNT, explaining that this was the best way to get in contact with him

- Quackity tells him about how messed up the server is, that the Egg is still an issue, and he needs Purpled’s help.

- Purpled is in the middle of a mercenary job already, but Quackity will pay Purpled well. He has a new project getting him wealth, a prosperous country. To prove it, Quackity takes him there...

---

The Red Banquet happens. A fight breaks out, and they get the Eggpire to retreat.

---

- Quackity stands on top of the flower shop. He meets Purpled, dressed in his suit, and thanks him for his help with the Egg

- Purpled stops him to ask for his money. Quackity takes him up to the roof and shows him to a chest with the money in it. Purpled approves

- Quackity has something else for Purpled: he goes downstairs and flicks a lever, and Purpled’s UFO explodes

Quackity: “Purpled, your legacy is gone, and I’ve taken it from you. That’s the last piece of evidence that you were ever here, Purpled. That’s it. And you die a long with it. You die along with it -- YOU DIE ALONG WITH IT, PURPLED!”

- Purpled runs at Quackity, attacking him. Quackity stops him, saying he did it for him. Purpled has two choices: he can take Quackity’s life and run away with the money, and he disappears forever. Or, he could join Quackity.

- Quackity tells Purpled he has potential, why waste it away? If Purpled joins him, he can buy a whole fleet of UFOs to replace the one

- Quackity promises Purpled a plot of land in Las Nevadas

Quackity: “Take the gamble, Purpled...take the gamble, and you can change everything.”

- Silently, Purpled turns and walks away

Chapter Four.

- Fundy walks to his new house in the forest and goes to sleep. When he wakes up, he opens the door to find it’s a mesa biome. He’s upset and goes back inside, reassuring himself. When he opens the door again, he’s met with Quackity standing there

- Quackity invites him to a walk, saying Fundy was a hard person to find, but he found him

- Fundy asks what this place is, but Quackity says he should know it better than anyone. As they approach, the mesa is populated by bits and pieces of L’manburg. The wooden stilts of New L’manburg, fragments of the black walls, the Camarvan. Quackity reminisces with him

- Fundy isn’t sure that the drug equipment is necessarily “good memories,” but Quackity tells him no, everything is good memories

- As Quackity leads him towards an oversized, deteriorated version of Eret’s tower, he reminds Fundy of how L’manburg was blown up

- Quackity steps into the shadows

Quackity: “You know what, Fundy? Those memories don’t matter. None of that matters, Fundy. All these structures, all these things we built together...it’s here now, but it’s really gone, and none of it matters, nor will it ever matter...Fundy, if you think about it...you don’t matter. Along with all these structures and everything in ‘em, you’re gonna fade away just like it.”

- If Fundy doesn’t change things, he won’t matter, but Quackity has plans and he doesn’t have to fade away if he just joins Quackity

- Quackity gives him ten seconds to decide. He starts counting down...

- Fundy runs towards him into the darkness as Quackity reaches one and he wakes up suddenly in his bed

- He goes to his door and opens it. Outside is the regular spruce forest, and Quackity is there to greet him.

---

It’s the day Wilbur got a tour from Tommy. Wilbur walks over to his resurrection shrine and finds the “PROJECT NEVADAS” book, reading it.

---

Las Nevadas. Wilbur, revived, comes walking down the road.

He comes face to face with Quackity.

---

- Foolish stands on top of his temple, wondering...was Quackity right? Is he wasting his time here, accomplishing nothing? He isn’t really doing anything to work towards peace

- He stands in the beacon light. Can Quackity do better than everyone else that’s tried before him? Quackity wasn’t all wrong in what he said

- At the Banquet, when he did try to help, he wasn’t strong enough. He can’t even control his own area -- people just walk in and he can’t stop them. Does he need to try something else?

- Maybe there’s a balance between both ends of the spectrum. It wouldn’t hurt to go look, try something different

- He starts making the journey through the Nether, then past Spawn until he reaches Las Nevadas. Just to visit and look around

- Can he really trust someone who let him die?

- Foolish spots Quackity across the road and goes to speak with him. The casino is still going through some repairs, as they found some flaws with the “math” and want to make sure everything is fair

- Foolish asks what Quackity wants from him. Quackity tells him it’s up to him what he wants to do, and it wouldn’t be fair of Quackity to tell Foolish that until Foolish accepts the invitation

- Quackity tours Foolish around the place, showing off the various buildings, like a restaurant and an area for weddings. Quackity sleeps in the Needle. There’s also a strip club also undergoing repairs and a massive Eiffel Tower

- They swim in the pool and Quackity asks Foolish to tell him a bit more about himself. Foolish says he worked for Kinoko Kingdom and Snowchester, and Quackity wants him to elaborate a bit on Kinoko

- Quackity tells Foolish that Las Nevadas is “its own, independent nation” and that you can’t depend on anyone. Quackity wants to depend on only himself.

- Foolish asks about the people who might not like that it’s a nation. Quackity says he just doesn’t have a plan and he’ll deal with it when the time comes

- Quackity tells Foolish he’s welcome to bring others. Foolish notes that Quackity said he doesn’t like to “dwell,” and by coming here maybe Foolish can stop dwelling on the past as well

- Quackity tells Foolish that Foolish chooses who he wants to be. The last thing he wants with Foolish is bad blood

Quackity: “I take care of those who take care of me...why do you think I have no one around?”

- Foolish tells him he’ll have an answer tomorrow. Quackity gives him temporary tokens for the casino and says goodbye to go and sleep. Foolish thinks to himself in Las Nevadas

- That’s when Foolish spots Fundy on the road and the stream abruptly ends

- Ranboo is in his basement. He wants to move the lab equipment to the table area

- He has an experiment log book that he won’t show chat

- Ranboo reads the letter Foolish left for him about the littering at his summer home

- He has a plan for what experiments he wants to do. He’s changed his opinion on the Enderwalk, as it allows him to hear chat in the first place. He doesn’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing

- Ranboo reaches the stronghold portal room and starts lining the walls with iron blocks. He thinks that after today, he might be able to remember everything

- He creates a glass water tank in the corner and some brewing stands, as well as a lever-activated dispenser with arrows

- Ranboo hit a wall with the experiments and he wonders if this strange table might be the key to breaking through

- He realized something frightening:

Ranboo: “The Enderwalk isn’t a different version of me, it’s not a different me, it’s still...me. But, from what I gathered...it’s me with...all of my memories. Every. Single. One. And I realized that...so...I mean, who knows what could’ve happened? There could’ve been an entire other story that I’m not aware of.”

- Ranboo wonders if he wants to keep living in blissful ignorance or know everything that’s happened

- He opens the log:

---

[In Ender]

Purpose of experimentation:

To understand

To learn

To remember

---

To remember is one of the purposes. There are 43 pages, and one of them had the solution.

If it gets rid of it completely, he could lose all of what he didn’t know from before. It could either be good or unknown.

- He tells chat he tricked them. They weren’t just random experiments -- he was going to solve it, and he thought he needed chat with him.

He didn’t need a splash potion. He would use the arrow and go into the water tank, and that would be the solution.

- Ranboo goes back and blocks up the hall, deciding to only use it as a last resort if something happens.

Only if something happens.

He “welp” claps to end stream.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts #prison arc #tw torture #tw manipulation

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