everytime I think about purple duo in season 3 in comparison to season 4 I go a little bit more crazy
vitalasy asking/making subz kill him because he was convinced his job was done, he saved the server and there was nothing left for him to do (in denial that lifesteal would not and could not be saved)
vs
subz asking/making vitalasy kill him because he had given up, and was convinced his life was only hurting the people he cared about
subz killed vitalasy very reluctantly but did it because he cared
vitalasy only killed subz after begging, bargaining and pleading for subz to promise to return to the server, return to him
subz was asked to do something he did not want to do both times (kill vitalasy, promise to return to the server) but agreed because he cared. because he knew what vitalasy is like as a person. he did not ask for anything in return, killing vitalasy was something he probably knew was coming. because that's just who vitalasy is.
vitalasy can't stand to lose people. he is selfish in the way that he wants to die first, so he doesn't have to bear living without the people he cares about
subz doesn't have grand goals or desires, he'll go along with whatever his teammates (vitalasy) wants because he cares about them more than anything. this, i think, stems from when subz tried to hold onto vitalasy's ideals after vitalasy's death in s3, but ultimately failed; ending the series in a truce and mass suicide pact. he learns that conflicts on the server are futile and will result in some semblance of peace at the end of the day. all that matters is that you have your allies by your side. something he lacked during the end of season 3. something he desperately wanted during season 4. he is selfish in the way that he'd rather look away than face conflict head on. dying in season 4 means he didn't have to look at the people he loved fight with each other, because what is the end of the server if he can't hold both his allies close to him. what is the end of a season if he can't hold their hands while they all plunge to their deaths.
the only way purple duo could get a happy ending is if they get banned side by side in a battle they both want to fight. vitalasy for the good of the server. subz for the good of vitalasy against a foe he does not care about.
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"Oh, spawn of the creator~" Glitchtrap muses as it kicks its legs while sitting upon the countertop, "Do you really think you'll be something more than just a shadow of him?"
IT KIND OF FEELS LIKE BEING SCOOPED. AGAIN. Michael’s breath ( unneeded ) catches in his ( torn ) throat, and something ugly ( childish ) holds his tongue for a moment too long. The rabbit sure knows where to kick a dog when it’s already down, and Michael has barely recovered from the nasty surprise of seeing it in the first place. For a moment, he’s sixteen again – tall, but never as tall as his father – strong, but never as strong as his father – trying so hard to be good, but never good enough – and lost for words. All he can do is stare at the glitch for a torturous second, before laughing. Harsh, rough. Resigned.
They’re the same, aren’t they ? Both created by him. The thought is laden and sour in his throat when he speaks:
“ I guess he didn’t have time to code you with some kind of command to shut the fuck up. ” Not that Michael really thinks his father would have done that anyway. He always seemed to like the sound of his own voice too much. But he’s bitter, brash with his next words. “ I’m literally nothing like him – ” ANYMORE. “ – and hey, look who’s still standing. It’s sure not him. ”
That, at least, makes him smile, even if it is a hollow victory. Steps forward, despite all instinct, towards the rabbit, his upturned lips mocking and hard, and adjusts the mask so it can see his scarred grin.
“ At the end of the day, I’m the one that survived. Guess the world really wants me to eradicate every last memory, every shadow, of him, huh ? ” And Glitchtrap is next, if he doesn’t shut up. Deep down, a part of him still itches for a bit of destructive violence, and even if smashing up a computer monitor won't hurt it, it sure as hell would feel good.
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fuck it, time to put some dsmp fanfic here
TWs: abusive therapist, panic attacks, improperly handled panic attacks, guilt tripping, mentions of suicide, mentions of self harm, so much c!ranboo hurt, mild physical violence
In which Dream is not a very good therapist
Ranboo was sat in what looked like a therapist's office, on a couch, with someone he didn't recognize sitting across from him holding a clipboard. Apparently he was going to therapy. He didn't know that. He'd never been here before- at least, not that he could remember. He reached into his pocket for the small copy of his memory book he kept on his person- only to not find it.
"Oh, your book. I took that earlier," the man across from him said, and the voice was undeniably Dream's. He'd never seen Dream without his mask before. Had he? Had he forgotten? "I figured it would be better for you if you got your memories from a more unbiased perspective. It's not healthy to only trust your own word, especially when your memory is faulty," he explained without having been asked.
Ranboo nodded. Yeah, that seemed right. It sounded right. Dream knew what he was talking about. Since when was Dream a therapist? "Since when were you a therapist?" he asked.
Dream chuckled. "Decided to take a page out of my mom's book, y'know?" Ranboo stared blankly. "Puffy. Do you remember her?"
"I do." He couldn't forget Puffy. What did Puffy do again? She was a sheep. Right? Sheep lady. "I just didn't know she was your mom."
"Right. Of course you wouldn't remember that." Something in his voice sounded bitter. As if Ranboo should have remembered. Should he have?
"I don't even know you. We've only spoken, like... once?" Ranboo protested.
Dream sighed. "You keep saying that." He scribbled something down onto his clipboard. Ranboo couldn't imagine what. Unable to remember the lives and faces of his close friends. He suddenly felt bad. Dream looked up. "You were here talking about your struggles. Your deteriorating memory," Was it deteriorating? Ranboo didn't think it was any worse than usual, "your relationship with your husband, and your feelings of general self-doubt."
That made sense. Those were all things he struggled with. Ranboo fiddled with his hands a bit. "I guess I'm worried that I wasn't there for enough of Tubbo's life," he said, missing how Dream suddenly looked irritated at the mention of Tubbo's name. "I joined the server pretty late, I mean. I don't know what L'manburg was like before he was president, or-"
Dream cut him off. He didn't think therapists were supposed to do that. "L'manburg is dead, Ranboo."
His tail flicked in irritation. "I know that-"
"You need to move on. Stop focusing so much on the past." He scribbled on his notepad again. Ranboo winced. He was supposed to feel better, right? This was meant to make him feel better. Why did he feel worse?
Dream looked up. "Why not tell me about your feelings of self-doubt, hm?" Ranboo wasn't done with the topic of Tubbo, but he guessed Dream didn't like that topic.
"I mean, I guess... I guess I sort of feel like I don't have any real purpose. I mean, I don't remember anything about where I come from, or my parents, or even why I have this-" he gestured towards the crown on his head, "and I've just been trying to help people, I guess. But whenever I help someone, I just turn around and help someone else who completely undermines them. Like when I promised to help Quackity protect Las Nevadas, but then I helped Wilbur blow it up." He swallowed. "Or when I promised to help protect Tommy..."
"And then you helped me kill him," Dream cut in.
Ranboo blinked. "I- I what?"
"You forgot?" Ranboo opened his mouth to answer, but Dream didn't let him. "Of course you forgot. Christ. You set off the TNT that trapped him in Pandora with me, remember?" Ranboo froze up. Shut down. Wrapped his tail around himself. "Ah, great, another one of these," he heard Dream mutter, before his own heavy breaths drowned out any sound.
He killed Tommy. He killed Tommy. He killed his best friend. He killed his husband's best friend. His hand shot up into his mouth, fangs digging into his palm as he hyperventilated, eyes wide, pupils narrowing into slits. His tail darted from side to side, and eventually stinging tears started pricking at his eyes. Vaguely, he heard a voice, but he couldn't- he couldn't possibly make it out over his heart pounding in his ears.
"Ranboo!" a voice shouted over the chaos. A hand clasped down on his shoulder, but he didn't respond, just shut his eyes, shook his head, let the tears streaming down his cheeks burn him. He was being irrational. Why was he doing this? Why was this happening? Why was-
He heard, before he felt, the crack of the back of a hand against his cheek. The sound stunned him into opening his eyes. The pain made him try to listen to Dream, out of fear. Why was he afraid? He shouldn't be afraid. He should feel better. "Calm down, Boo. Jeez," Dream muttered. Vaguely, Ranboo wondered why he called him that. Tubbo called him Boo. Everyone else called him Ranboo, because that was his name. How did Dream even know he was married to Tubbo in the first place? How did-
"Are you gonna listen now?" Ranboo nodded shakily, and Dream pulled away finally finally finally. "Good." Dream's gaze rested on Ranboo's eyes for an uncomfortable period of time. Ranboo didn't like eye contact. He looked away. "You have to stop being so avoidant, Boo," Dream chided, but he didn't look back.
Then Dream sighed, stood up and returned to his desk. When had he left it? When had- "You seem pretty torn up about all this, huh?"
Ranboo shrugged. Nodded. That's what he was supposed to do.
Dream frowned. Looked down at his notepad. Scribbled something. Looked back up. "Have you considered offing yourself?"
"What?" Ranboo sputtered. What an incredibly forward thing to say. What a thing to say to your client, who's presumably paying you to make them feel better.
"I mean, it just seems like you're all out of options here," Dream said with a shrug. "Y'know, everyone says suicide is the coward's way out. And you've always been a coward."
He was joking. It was an awful joke. It was a horrible joke. That's just how Dream was. He made awful, horrible jokes. But Ranboo's chest felt tight. "I saw you bite your hand. I saw all the water burns on your fingers. I know you already hurt yourself. Why not go that extra mile?" His throat closed in on itself. He couldn't breathe. "Is it because you're too scared? I mean, I've heard about what hell is like. It's not exactly pleasant."
Dream's voice coiled in like a snake, hissing into his ear before the venomous strike. "People like you don't go to heaven, Ranboo."
He couldn't remember anything after that.
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Welcome to the Blue and Orange bracket!
Welcome to the bracket for all of your blue and orange characters!
Submit a character that is both blue and orange, or two characters that together form a blue/orange duo right here!
I stole this idea from was inspired by blogs like @redandbluebracket, @redandgreenpoll, @purpleandyellowshowdown and @ourple-battle!
Guidelines for submissions:
Using a fairly loose definition of orange and blue here. Teal is blue, brown is orange. Red is not orange, and purple is not blue.
Submit as many characters as you want, but only submit them once. I'll know if you spam the submissions. I'll know.
Fictional characters only! However, fictional characters representative of real people will be accepted if they are distinguishable from the real person.
The bracket will have 16-64 spots, most likely. This is subject to change.
In the case of a perfect tie, a rematch will be posted.
Submissions will close on March 5th, unless there are not enough submissions to produce a bracket.
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