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thegreencanary · 2 years

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Exit night.

Based on this request!:

Summary: you fell asleep with your best friends and boyfriend around when nightmares from the upside down come. Only one person can calm you despite everyone who is trying.

A/N: This is my work and I don’t give anyone the permission to post it anywhere claiming to be someone else’s. I worked hard on this, if you enjoy it please interact. Requests are open.

Paring: Eddie x You (Fem!reader) featuring Best friends Robin and Steve

TW: Talk of violence, gore, upside down scary, cursing

A/N: I’m working through my requests right now! I’m sorry for the delay!

Family dinners, that’s what you called them. Once a month you insisted that everyone, Hopper and Joyce included, came out for a dinner. No one in Hawkins understood what the gang had gone through and it was a good time to get stuff out to people who could understand it. Originally it was for Billy to realize he wasn’t alone when he came back from the Starcourt incident. He’d never be the same after that but he needed to know he wasn’t alone. Slowly the dinners just turned into therapy for everyone. Eddie needed them most recently because he was still healing from the incident with the bats. You were so focused on his recovery and his healing that you didn’t realize the trauma that happened to you. You watched the love of your life get ripped to shreds and technically die. You saw the deep cuts, and you carried him to the hospital with help from Steve. You were covered head to toe in his blood as you waited to see if he was going to come back; yet you didn’t deal with any of it. Repressed emotions have a funny way of showing up.

Yawning, you cleaned up the plates from family dinner. Pretty much everyone had cleared out except for you, Robin and Steve. Eddie was taking some of the munchkins home but he was gonna come back for you soon. Steve took some of the plates for you and eyed you suspiciously. It was pretty obvious by the bags under your eyes that you hadn’t been sleeping.

“Y/N, want to stay for a movie? I brought Overboard from the store. It’s supposed to be cute or something.”

Robin handed you the VHS. You liked horror movies like the rest of the gang, but recently it was hard for you to watch them. A romantic comedy sounded a lot better.

“Eddie said he was gonna come back and pick me up…”

The movie looked really funny.

“You know you both can just stay here. Robins probably going to crash here too, right?”

Robin gave a ‘duh’ look to Steve and he motioned with his hands.

“See? Just stay and relax. Eddie won’t mind. He likes stealing my food anyways.”

True. Steve always packed the fridge really well when his parents fucked off to some random ass place. You knew he hated being alone and he loved to host. Smiling softly you simply nodded.

“Sweet! I’ll pop it in, you can just relax on the couch and mom over here will finish cleaning up.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“At least call me Dad Jesus fucking Christ. Why am I friends with you two?”

“What did I do!?” You laughed softly. Robin just chucked a dirty napkin at him and headed to the living room to pop in the movie. You helped Steve a little bit he shooed you away from the kitchen.

“Thanks mom.” You chuckled as he spewed some profanities at you. Grabbing a big ass blanket you moved to the bigger of the three couches and curled up in the corner. Robin tossed you a pillow and winked as she started the movie. You felt a heavy presence next you you.

“Now that is a good hairstyle.” Steve mentioned about the lead actor.

“Good lord Steve.” Robin rolled her eyes and started on one of her famously long but quick rants. Something about how the mullet was so dumb looking but you couldn’t focus. Almost immediately you fell asleep, comfortable around your best friends. The warm blanket lulled you into dreamland…which is exactly where you’d been avoiding.

Recently your dreamland was the Upside Down. Often you were just running, not looking back but just pushing forward. The emptiness in your lungs burning your whole body and your legs screaming to stop; but you kept running. Tonight, you weren’t running, you were in an open field. It was a corn field that was by your apartment. You know it well, last summer the farmer decided to plant hundreds of rows of flowers instead. Eddie danced with you under the moonlight in those flowers, it’s where he told you he loved you. The first time you two admitted how much you’d fallen for each other. Now it was barren, scorched and dried out. There was…something in the middle of it. Everything in your brain told you to run, but your legs moved forward. Closer…clooooseer until you recognized something. A severed hand, with the silver rings you knew and loved so well.

“No…”

Now you were sprinting again, Passing one of his legs you tried to remain focused…until you saw it. Eddie’s head was detached from his body. A bat snaking it’s demonic tail around his neck and pulling it apart. Eddie looked at you and screamed out, causing you to scream to him.

Robin was shaking you but nothing was happening. Not even halfway through the movie you were sweating in your sleep. Your breathing was ragged and you looked pale as fuck. Steve freaked out and got cold towels to try and cool you down, but when you screamed he panicked. Robin jumped into action but nothing she was doing was bringing you back. They both got scared that even though Vecna was gone…maybe he got to you.

——————————

“See you later kiddo. Don’t forget to start your campaign for Hellfire! You won’t be a good Dungeon Master if you’re late!”

Eddie scolded Dustin as he dropped off the last kid. You’d convinced Eddie to let Dustin try and take his place in case you and Eddie ever needed to miss a Hellfire night. Will was a really good option as well, but the way Dustin pined after Eddie made him want to give the kid a chance. Driving back to Steve’s, Eddie was thinking about you. You looked exhausted at dinner tonight but anything he asked you, you just ignored it. Eddie finally felt like he was getting back to normal, the nightmares stopped and he was able to go about his days without feeling like he was being watched. He noticed you getting worse and worse.

You’d stopped spending the night with him, and most likely stopped sleeping altogether. You never talked to anyone about what happened to him. Eddie knew it took a toll on you, you saved his life but you just said you were fine. Hell, when he had his nightmares you’d sing him into a calmer sleep. He just wanted to help you but you just wouldn’t let him. The metal head found himself sighing as he thought about you. God he fucking loved you, but sometimes he felt useless.

Pulling in Eddie was whistling, thinking of date ideas to cheer you up when he heard your scream from inside. Damn near kicking down the door he found Robin over you, trying to wake you up and Steve pacing back and forth.

“What the fuck is going on!?!”

“We don’t know Eddie! She dozed off and now she’s broken out into a swear and we can’t wake her up. She’s been screaming and shaking.”

Steve opted to not tel Eddie you were screaming his name and crying. The tears had stopped but you were still panting and whispering Eddie’s name.

“Move Robin.”

“But-“

“NOW……..please.”

She glared at him for a moment, but moved. Eddie immediately situated himself behind you and wrapped you in a hug. Gently he started speaking in your ear, small whispered that only you could hear. Almost instantly at the sound of his voice, your breathing slowed. Gently, your boyfriend kissed your cheek and started singing a slow and soft version of ‘Enter Sandman’ by Metallica.

————————-

You were watching Eddie get ripped to shreds and nothing you did could save him. Every-time you reached for him a bat cut you open. Your body was exhausted but you wanted to fight, for him. Suddenly a warmth surrounded you; like the sun. You felt safe and the Upside Down became brighter, and slowly it became Hawkins. Eddie’s figure faded as his sweet voice filled your mind. The paralysis you felt began to lift and fresh air filled your lungs.

Lurching forward, you woke to strong arms holding you back. Robin and Steve looked frightened and you realized it was all a dream.

“Y/N…what the fuck was that??”

Steve was worried for you but the voice of comfort that came from behind you calmed everyone in the room.

“Not now Steve.”

Robin eyed Eddie.

“How the hell did you do that? I was shaking her for like a minute and a half.”

You chuckled weakly but snuggled closer into Eddie. He was quiet so you spoke up.

“He’s my safe space Robin. If he’s okay, I’m okay. I just needed to know he was okay.”

Steve rolled his eyes but he was happy you were okay. Robin quirked an eyebrow but let it be for the evening. Eddie whispered softly into your ear.

“We will talk about your nightmares later baby. You can’t keep acting like everything is fine.”

A heavy sigh filled the air but you knew he was right. There was an awkwardness to the air but Robin wasn’t the subtle type.

“So I’m uncomfortable now. I’m gonna play the movie so we can focus on something other than the mental breakdown that Y/N doesn’t want to talk about right now.”

You could kind of tell that Steve and Robin were upset you hadn’t trusted them with what was going on in your head. Adjusting your body, you were still attached to Eddie but you patted the seat next to you.

“Come on. When I’m ready, I’ll talk. For now I just want to be with my best friends and my boyfriend. Okay?”

Eddie smiled and kissed your cheek. He’d be here when you were ready. Steve sighed and sat on the floor in front of you and Robin sat beside you. God you had no idea where you’d be without these weirdos.

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A/N: I hope the anon likes it!! Sorry if there are spelling errors it’s 2:50am and I’m on my phone. Thanks for the request!! ❤️❤️

#eddie survives #eddie x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things #steve the hair harrington #steve harrington #robin buckley #robin stranger things #steve stranger things

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rotshop · 3 years

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help girl i just woke up and im already thinking abt mag s/o again. anyway please consider ;

[ tw body horror, some brief light gore and violence ]

[ note ; reader is SLIGHTLY described. the only thing mentioned is that they have a noticeable, identifying scar on their face

hank + mag s/o

-he knew you even before the boombox incident. he doesn't even really remember how you two first met, he just remembers that you started talking to him and then just kinda kept coming back. at first he wasn't the biggest fan of you since he was 'doing just fine on his own,' but...he admittedly was already really attached to you. they've never been much of a talker and that's especially noticeable to you at that point in time but ,,, they respond enough with signing, nodding / shaking their head, or the occasional speaking that you're able to carry some conversations pretty well.

-he doesn't really. have. a lot of people in his life. you're really his only real close friend, it's kinda hard for him to fully wrap his head around it so !! they chose not to, instead focusing more-so on whatever it was you were rambling to them about that day.

-not super sure of where to put this lmao but ummm ehe . he's actually surprisingly touchy with you????? like. you've hung out at his house a few times and he just like. you'll start out sitting next to each other and you'll end up either laying with your head on their chest or vice versa . its . a little funny . you tease him about it a little and he just flicks your shoulder. also traces your scar a lot if you'll let them, they're not entirely sure why they do it, they just . like asking you about it occasionally.

-also you have scary dog privileges. they might look like any other grunt at that point but they're still tall as fuck and idk man !! something abt getting a blank stare from someone who towers over u would probably make u shut up and mind ur own damn business.

-again, he's not super good at fully recognizing / acknowledging certain thoughts and feelings of his but . yknow. he can definitely tell he at least worries about you a lot more than he would some other grunt he just met. he can definitely tell there's a reason he doesn't mind you touching him, whether by grabbing his hand to go show him something or just placing a hand on his shoulder or arm (most likely arm, again. hes tall. ). they can definitely tell there's a reason that they find themself genuinely enjoying your interactions.

-after the park thing you don't see them for a long time. everytime you try and call him the lines dead, everytime you try and ask others about him you just get choice words, all in all you're pretty much lost on the entire thing. sure, you know what happened but . it just never sits right with you. it doesn't help whenever people ask questions about them or give you wary looks because of your association, half steps back when you take one forward.

-anyway. yeah nevada goes to shit and you get magnified for the aahw. by now you just. don't really talk about hank. surprisingly, you have a little more of your old memories than the average mag !! congrats. problem is they're all foggy enough that you only really distantly decipher them. lmao. you aren't super high on the ladder but you're a pretty tough mag to beat. you're well known enough that other mags tend to hang around you when there's not much else going on. v2 mags especially think it's fun to mess around with you by jumping on your back or otherwise clinging onto you . idk man u've got like . a little family here .

-at one point or another there's an outing youre on that ends up going wrong. you get split up from the rest of your unit and are forced to hide out in some old abandoned building while you wait for backup. you're a little too injured to try and walk all the way back, a heavy gash on your side preventing you from doing too much in the moment. when you hear heavy steps on concrete you're able to give some sort of noise of relief, turning your head to look over your shoulder at whichever agent in your group had finally found you-

-you're instead met with red goggles and the end of a gun.

-any kind of relief is snatched away, you know damn well who it is by just the bit you can see in the dark alone. even standing in the shade between two windows (one of which you were sitting by, probably how they seen you in the first place- if that's the case though, it's a little weird they hadn't just shot at you through it.) you knew it was him. you're already stumblingly forcing yourself up to as much of your full height as you can manage, taking some kind of defensive position even as one of your hands ghosts over your gash. the throbbing pain of it and the feeling of blood sticking and running down your skin is enough that you can't seem to focus on the fact that he won't stop staring at your face.

-it doesn't take long before your legs seem to fail you, forcing you forward a bit as you kneel in some sort of attempt to keep upright. you're too busy hissing under your breath and screwing your eyes shut in pain as your hand covers your side to notice your company stepping forwards. you're snapped back to attention when there's a hand on your face, fingertips digging into your skin as they yank your head down a little further. you know you should be grabbing him, that you should be digging your claws into his torso and ripping him clean in half, throwing whatevers left aside and leaving. you know thats what you were told to do, what you were told they deserved anyway. yet, you aren't. instead, you're just giving some warning growl as you stare at them. you notice how the end of the gun is pointed away from you, how their touch seems to outline the mark on your face.

-"If you try and hurt me, I'll kill you." That's the only real heads up you get before he's crouching down and shoving your hand out of the way, grabbing something from his pocket to get to work on you. you don't fail to notice how little attention they're paying to you (aside from the focus on your wound, of course), that you could just rush forward and slam them into the ground if you really wanted.

-ok im skippin g ahead bc this is already way too goddamn long for hcs DEJWJCS

-anyway. it's a complicated relationship for a while. the others tend to avoid you a little but he just keeps showing up around you. they keep staring at you and just hanging around in your general area. it's not that much of an irritant if you ignore all the weird emotions and thoughts it keeps bringing to the forefront of your mind, forcing you to once again try and meddle with your memories.

-eventually he just starts walking over to you and sitting down next to you. sometimes he doesn't say anything at all, just sitting there and seeming to wait for one thing another- he never seems to find whatever that is, as he always gets up and leaves without a word at some point or another. then they start talking, its just little things at first, point-blank statements you can't say much on. sometimes they're just saying they and the other three will be gone for a bit othertimes it's some half-demand to let them look at the stitches they did on you (semi-related, he's not good at them. the stitches are pretty rough. at one point or another sanford has to redo them properly lmao)

-but then there's one particular night. they do the normal thing, come over, sit down next to you, not say a word. this time though you note how they're facing you. instead of some reminder or a demand for anything, he's pulling his ask down and asking a simple question. 'What do you remember?'

-it's a long conversation. he's talking more than he normally would by a long shot, occasionally stopping whenever his words seem to especially fail him and get stuck in his throat. you don't even really remember moving around, or even him pulling you in any way, you just know you somehow end up laying next to him with your head on his chest.

-whenever the memories do seem to click into place, it's hard. you have a lot of choice words for them yourself, months of being left alone without a word bubbling up with a vengeance, they listen to them. while some mags (such as yourself) do have the ability to speak, the san and dei don't think they've ever heard one with that much emotion in their voice. they've especially never seen a mag just break down like you do, they're both tensing up a little from their far away spot when hank's walking closer to you. instead of you lashing out or swiping at him though, you just sit there while he wraps his arms around you (as best as he can at least, it's a little difficult but he's able to get them around your neck and reach his other hand behind you well enough). you're eventually doing the same to him, though it's more so just your hands resting on their back.

-it takes a good while for proper trust to be rebuilt along with an honest, proper explanation from hank that only you're privy to. eventually though, there's enough trust that you're able to hang around him again without narrowly avoiding an argument or anything. they don't like being super affectionate or 'vulnerable' in front of the other two, so most times they prefer being in your or their room. also they're still touchy lmao, doesn't help that you're mag sized now and so they just want to hold you . its hard to explain, he's never been super affected by others heights and even when he is it's usually a negative thing for him but . for some reason . he just likes being shorter / smaller than you lol ,,,,,,,, hope you like holding them a lot bc that's what you're gonna be doing

-holy shit these are long so . i think .i am going to stop here.

#hank j wimbleton x reader #madcom x reader #madness combat x reader #madcom imagines #madness combat imagines #rot writes #hank 'jmy s/o is twice my size and could turn me into a fine wine if they really wanted to and i love them for it' wimbleton

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ramble-writes · 3 years

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Hola <3 I love your work!! I would love to see your take on Danny Johnson (ghostface) with a Gn or male S/O who is also a slasher! I hope you have a good day! <333

What's funny is that you caught me at a good time of a dream I had I was a killer. Couldn't speak for shit but I had a scythe :v And you kinda strike me as a duel wilder so das what u gonna get gods i need to write more Anyway enjoy this tiktok too lol. Also from now on any sort of Entity mentioned is Sock nao LMAO unless otherwise. And Imma go for a male reader here.

A Killer for a Killer

TW: blood, mention of attempt of r*pe, minor gore

Don’t forget to like, reblog, and follow if ya wanna see more! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

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It was a gift you were given from the Entity. A gift of a single mori. That sausage bodied lizard had dragged you a charm of a green head for whenever you feel the need to use it... Which you did upon the next trial you went into.

It was in Coldwind Farm: Torment Creek. The artificial sunset lighting honestly felt warm on your face before you tugged up your scarf to focus on the task at hand. Moving forward, you progressed into the cornfield where you hoped to catch sight of a survivor so you know who you’re going up against. The sound of a gen being worked on caught your attention that you got low into a crouch, then lept up and crashed down onto not one, but three survivors. Bill, Felix, and your least favorite: David.

You hit someone, hearing one of them cry out and feeling the warmth of blood on your hands. Looking up you spotted Bill hobbling away in a hurry with his hand holding his now injured arm where you see the damage you caused. A gash from his bicep that spans to the back of his shoulder.

You didn’t give chase, instead you went and chased after Felix. The more injured, the more harder it is for them to heal each other to survive. Catching up with the German man, you brought your blades down to create an X gash on his back, smiling at the way he cries out . He stumbled over his own feet from how blinding the pain was and landed on his back that he yelped. With a grunt, you flip him over to grab him and slung him over your shoulder to make your way to the nearest hook.

A gen went off which drew your attention and you made your way over. You saw a flash of blond and heard the familiar sound of legs flopping around in boots. Looking over, Kate was running off with a toolbox in hand. You went to go chase after her, that was till a bright blinding light went off that you couldn’t see. You took the time to furiously rub your eyes before looking around to see David. Great. You remember vividly that the last time you had an interaction with him that he socked you in the face hard. And some... “attempts” were made had you not grabbed his throat and ripped it out with your bare hands.

A growl rose in your throat that you lost track of the others. Th others noticed and did their best to hurry along to not witness the oncoming slaughter. Dwight can vouch for it when he saw how you had ripped into the brute and shoved his heart into his mouth. He only had gotten as far as removing your pants and grabbing at your dick, but you had reacted fast upon realization and a knife to the shoulder had got him to get off. End result was blood that coated your arms up to your elbows.

You couldn’t kill him yet, so you were stuck with hooking him for now. Felix, the ever observant, slowly made his way over while taking glances at David and carefully got your attention. The way your head snapped to glare at him made him jump a bit before clearing his throat.

“Would... Would you like for me to unhook him?”

You realized what he was going to do and the tension in your shoulders relaxed a bit before nodding. The German went over and unhooked the Brit who had started to struggle when he noticed the sudden alliance. Blondy made a run for it from the other’s wrath, but he didn’t get far as you brought one of your knives down hard on his back which knocked him flat on his face. His scream broke out when that dirty, bloody hook slipped back through the hole in his shoulder, but it tore open more that he tearing of muscle was audible.

Once again, Felix approached and looked to you as David started to struggle from having to keep those horrid claws of the Entity. It’s strange how such a small lizard is also an old eldritch being that feeds of the suffering of others, when the reptile likes any kind of bugs or veggies in his little gullet. But you didn’t question it. Sock is fun to keep on your shoulders and watch struggle having to get over small ledges.

David was off the hook again, but he wasn’t safe from you. Felix made a run for it the moment you advanced forward. Mind you, he went off on the brute when Dwight told the others what happened. His words were met with retaliation and slurs like calling him a “Nazi” due to Felix’s German roots.

Along with Felix, Bill and Kate had escaped thanks to the luck of a key being found. That left you with David, which you took your sweet, sweet, sweet time to make an example of him. You may have gotten some “inspiration” from a certain killer with how you made his still living body a display. Gut torn open, intestines pulled out and formed to make the Star of David to mock his name despite it being a common name. As a last show, you had cut off his dick (which you cringed after realization) and stuck it in his mouth as the very life faded from his eyes.

Trial over, back wandering a sort of forest that serves as an in-between for those without realms, you felt satisfied. You felt eyes on you, watching your movements even though that’s common in this hell. A shift of wind, a soft whisper of words that sounded amused graced your ears.

“That was quite the show that was put on, my dear~” The voice purred. Strong, yet gentle arms wrapped around your waist to pull your form close to a more sturdy one.

“My pretty boy all gory and satisfied I bet~”

This made you chuckle as you turned your head to see the familiar mask of the Ghostface pushed off to the side to show one half of his face.

“And I’d do it a thousand times over. Didn’t know you were watching, Danny.”

The taller man let out a low breathy laugh before tilting your head up more with rough leather gloves holding your jaw to then grace your smiling lips with his. The kiss was deepened when you managed to loop an arm around his neck, a hum rumbling in his chest that you snickered a bit and broke from the kiss.

“I may have drawn some inspiration from you on leaving a lasting impression on people~

“I’m touched~ And honestly, I think a sort of prize is deserved.”

You arched a brow, only to let out a yelp when Danny picked you up and peppered your face and jaw in kisses and nips to your neck. You didn’t need to question what the prize was. With Danny, it’s obvious since the sight of blood and dead gazes get a rise out of him and drive him mad like a male rabbit in a rut. But hey, you never minded a single bit.

#nsft #blood #gore #tw: r*pe #my writings #danny johnson #ghostface dbd #ghostface x reader #x reader #male reader #david king #felix richter #bill overbeck #kate denson #askz #anon #sock the skink #HAHA TIS DONE #hoooooo shit i did it

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fairfowl · 3 years

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Lie There and Breathe pt 2: A Poor Choice of Watchmen

A horde clone oc story (part one here)

Tw: mild gore, cult indoctrination

The next time that the clone awoke it was to a feeling of coldness. The bandages that were wrapped around his head had become soaked.

The clone reached a hand up to touch the wet cloth over his face, wondering if someone had poured water over him while he slept, but as consciousness returned to him he realized that it was more likely blood. The wetness had dampened the bandages, and then dripped down onto the thin pillow under his head. It was very unpleasant.

The emptiness in his mind seemed to amplify the pain from his wounds, leaving the frantic signaling from his nervous system to echo around inside his skull rather than travel outward into the hivemind as intended. He missed feeling his brothers, and being felt. He missed the comforting thought of Horde Prime Feeling him and Knowing him as an extension of his own glorious self.

It was no wonder, the clone thought, that other species were so desperate and primitive. How could one be anything but when left trapped within their own mind?

He was already tired of being alone.

The clone took a slow breath, and listened for his brother The Breather beside him. He quickly isolated the familiar rasping sound from the chaos surrounding them. The wheezing sound was quieter than it had been, and the clone reached out, hoping that his companion had not been moved further away. His talons at first met empty air.

The clone strained further, partially lifting himself off the cot as he reached blindly across the void.

Eventually he found what he sought.

The soft strong skin of a fellow clone.

It appeared that while the clone had slept someone had come and propped The Breather up in a half sitting position. The clone noticed that his companion's breaths seemed to come easier from the change and wondered at the improvement as he traced The Breather's arm from wrist to shoulder.

He scooted as closely to the edge of the cot as he could manage, still too weak to sit up on his own, and rested a hand on his companion's arm.

"You should wake up Brother." He said softly, his voice rough from disuse. "I don't know what's happening but with two of us we will stand a better chance than one."

The Breather slept on, each breath long and slow. For his part the clone found that he didn't mind.

"That is fine." He said aloud, feeling silly and slightly hysterical. "I will keep watch for both of us, I-"

The clone stopped abruptly, as the tide of panic lapped at his mind once again. For all that he had been blind since first awakening the darkness seemed to become more menacing the more that he thought about it. The clone shuddered but soldiered on, continuing his one-sided conversation.

"Although I am a poor choice of watchmen at the moment."

He needed to remain calm. If he kept his wits and didn't panic he and The Breather would still have a chance.

If he stayed calm then they might survive.

He did not stop to wonder when he had become they. All the clone knew that he wanted both of them to make it through this, although for the first time he did not know what the future held. It had all seemed so simple before, he would have served Prime for the length of his existence, whether he perished in battle or simply reached the end of his useful life. Now Prime was gone and the clone was still shocked by his own urge to continue living.

On an impulse, the clone stretched further across the void to hold his companion's shoulder bracingly, craving the grounding physical contact-

And promptly toppled to the ground as his cot overbalanced, the wooden frame falling on top of him with a crash.

For a moment all he knew was pain. His head rung like a struck bell, and warmth bloomed upon this wounded face, mingling with the now cold fluids that already soaked his bandages. Smaller sharp pains pulled and stung across his body. The clone was surprised to find that he had yet more injuries, he had been so distracted by the persistent pain from his eye and face that he simply hadn't noticed. Not until he moved.

Still the discovery of his collection of cuts and scrapes was immediately overshadowed by the new bruises that he had surely just gained.

The cot was heavy, pressing hard onto his back and legs, and the chaotic noise of the tent had fallen to a hush.

"Are you okay?" Someone was beside him, kneeling down to his level. The clone briefly considered yelling but decided that it wouldn't help. Instead he simply scoffed and tried to lift himself from the ground.

After a few moments of futile struggling the clone felt two arms grab him beneath the arms, hoisting him up and righting the cot with a set of practiced movements. His head spun.

He listened through the relative silence for The Breather and concentrated again on the repetitive rasping noise as he was set down on the cot in a seated position, his legs dangling as counterbalance while the stranger supported his shoulders.

The new person was talking to him, but he did not hear them. The clone was too focused on breathing in time with his companion, slowing his heart rate as his head continued to spin. Eventually he regained control of himself, and tuned head towards the person beside him.

"Hi" they said, their voice low and soft, as though they were speaking to a frightened animal. The clone had already guessed that the person interacting with him was Etherian but now he was sure. They smelled like grass.

"Hello" He responded, feeling out of his depth. Was this one of his new masters? Did they know the extent of his damage? Maybe they were also someone conquered by the Etherian Princesses and the She-Ra.

“Hey,” they greeted again, the clone did not understand why but said nothing “You took a pretty bad fall there, do you think you reopened any injuries?”

Now the voice was hesitant, as though the speaker was afraid of him. Before the fall of Prime the clone would have thought them correct to be afraid, but now he lacked the will to lash out. Truly without Prime he was a pathetic creature.

“I- I think my face is bleeding again…” Indeed the warmth that had bloomed against his cheek felt as though it was dripping downward, mixing with the fluids that already soaked his bandages.

“Yeah, yeah those definitely need to be changed.” The Etherian said, a hand still holding the clone’s shoulder to steady him. “What do you think, Master?”

“I think they should have been changed a few hours ago.” The clone startled as a wry voice chimed in from a few feet away, not far from where The Breather continued to sleep. “This one’s been shuffled off to the corner, but his head wounds will get infected if we don’t clean that up. They might be infected already.”

“Okay, I’ll rewrap them.” The first voice replied. The clone felt a new hand grip his shoulder, larger and less gentle than the first, as the Etherian on his side hopped up and walked away, their footsteps vanishing into the noise of the tent.

"Master…" He said slowly, concentrating on The Breather's quiet rasp as his heartbeat quickened. Fear coursed through him but he refused to relinquish control. "Are you to rule over us now that Horde Prime is dead?"

The very words felt blasphemous, but after so many hours of lying blind and helpless with no idea what was happening The Clone found that he had to know.

"Oh! No!" The person beside him replied, his hand tightening against the clone's sore shoulder. "No no, not until you're no longer my patient at least."

The gruff voice chuckled.

"I am a Master Healer of Mystacor, you may call me Master Mendus, or just Mendus if you’d prefer.” The clone nodded, unsure of the meaning of most of the words he’d just heard but doing his best to absorb them anyway. “Dawn, the one who helped you up, is one of my apprentices. I’ve assigned you to her care.”

As if on cue the footsteps returned, and the soft voice with them.

“I got the supplies. Master, can you hold him up while I unwrap his face?” The second Etherian—Mendus—said nothing, but the clone felt him shift, and the air moved as Dawn stood directly before him.

Slightly overwhelmed by the sudden attention of two alien beings the clone felt himself stiffen up, holding himself as straight as he could manage although still relying on Mendus’s hands to keep upright. Panic still hovered at the edges of his consciousness like a threat, but he held himself together to the best of his ability.

If he lost control now he could be punished or taken away, and The Breather would be left alone. He would not leave his helpless brother to the mercies of their captors.

Dawn’s gentle hands reached up to his face and the clone suppressed a flinch as he felt her slowly begin to unwrap his bandages. Throughout his entire stay within the healing tent he had seen only darkness, swathed in bandages and blood, but as they were peeled away light shone through his right eyelid, green and dim but present nonetheless.

His heartbeat quickened, and the clone felt his claws scrape wood as he gripped the edge of his cot.

Layer by layer the bandages unwound. They stuck over his left eye, but each time they did Dawn sprayed them with a cool liquid that wet them enough to come apart without pain. Eventually cool dry air touched his face and scalp for the first time, and the clone found that the only thing covering his eyes and wound was a gauze pad that stuck there, held by the gore beneath it.

“This might hurt.” Dawn warned, spraying more of the fluid directly onto his face. The liquid penetrated the bandage and stung as it entered the wounds on his left side, he could feel fresh blood welling up and dripping down his cheek. The clone could also feel himself beginning to shake as the gauze pad was carefully peeled away, exposing the wreck of his face to the open air.

And for the first time since Horde Prime’s defeat the clone opened his eye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for tuning in to the continued adventures of Chamomile and Calamine the clones (AKA the clone and The Breather)

This time Chamomile actually speaks although he hasn’t much to say, we also meet two new characters

Master Mendus is exactly what he says he is, a healer from Mystacor who has taken responsibility for the hospital tent where our heroes currently reside. He’s a good man...or a good fawn as it were...

Dawn is one of several of Mendus’s apprentices and is currently responsible for both Chamomile and Calamine, she’s a dutiful gentle young doe. She will be Chamomile’s first real link to the Etherians and will help him and Calamine as they go on. Despite her sweet nature she is isolated from her family and seeking out connections

#spacebats #horde clone oc #horde clones #spop #she ra and the princesses of power #the horde #she ra #hordak #mystacor #original #i contributed #my fic #chamomile the clone #calamine the clone #horde clone ocs #spop oc #post series #Lie There and Breathe

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narcolepticelf · 3 years

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Hi my names Damien (but you can call me anything from my pronouny! ) I primarly use He/They,but neos are listed there as well ^-^ . I don't really have a carrd yet but I'll make one eventually. I do art [ #zzz.img ] !

Most recent art Here [c!quackity las nevadas finale art]

I interact from my main [ @sunflowerseraph ]

!! Icon creds here. !!

If ur breaking mutuals lmk pls ^_^ !! More under the cut

Greatest hits: eret answered our ask, I've met Karl,Austin, Boomer, and Ted !

I main Foolish,Punz,Quackity,Wilbur,Sapnap,George,Karl,Tina,Techno ♡ and other non dsmp/Osmp/mcyt streamers (Sneegsnag,Boomer Slimcecicle Ted) P much chucky sammy? :) idk what else to add here but uhmm yeah! Just ask me who I like ig ^0^

We are a system! If you ever see someone sign off/tag with an emoji and you don't know who they are don't hesitate to ask! Friends can ask for our SimplyPlural. We have a Twitter (Main-NarcolepticElf , Alt-SeraphimSyss and Priv-PunzMaleWife ) we also have a marvel/dc/darkhorse/comics/etc twt under KonshusAvatars !!

I almost always try to tag my blog for easy navigation and triggers (for example: blood tw, tw blood, blood) or for specific characters (for example: c!sapnap, c!sapnap art, cc content, cc art ) hope that makes sense! Lmk if u need anything trigger tagged and I'll do my best to remember it!!

Hate proshippers with my whole heart. Please don't send heavy angst/gore regarding c!tommy !!!! Always happy to talk about characters from the dsmp!

Ok. Heavy stuff ig ! I don't talk much on the dream situation because I have My own issues/problems/trauma things lol! Don't pressure me to talk abt it. Don't send me asks or links or "proof" or "evidence" or whatever. I don't have a positive view of CC Dream anymore. But if I see anyone trying to start shit with Cc/C Dream Introjects I will slay you with my sword. Just bc I don't interact with Cc dream content anymore doesn't mean I have dropped The rest of the dsmp/mcyt streamers! I still mildly enjoy lore, but my Hyperfixation on the Dsmp as a whole has greatly diminished (its BEEN dying, even before the whole drm situation.) I'm not really gonna comb my whole blog for like mentions of him or whatever to delete because that's 1: tedious 2: tiresome and 3: time consuming. And I am constantly tired and busy with Real Life Things. 👍 anyways idk what else to put here but !! Thank u all ^_^ !!!!!

This blog mostly runs on a queue, and it may have old content in it! I'll probably delete anything that Bothers me, but I don't check it often.

#info #temporary while i figure out a new carrd n stuff :]#just wanted to add creds for my new icon #putting tags here for navigation ->#zzz.txt #zzz.img #zzz.doodles #liveposting.txt #art #fav #video #q #cc art #cc content #<- end of tags i can think of rn!

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amintyworld · 4 years

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It’s a Wonderful Life, Tommy - Dream SMP Holiday Oneshot

A/N: So this started as an imagine that I wanted to do a bullet fic for, but I got carried away and kind of, sort of, wrote an 11-page fic? So, sorry for the extra setup at the beginning. It’s inspired off two of my favorite Christmas movies: ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ and ‘A Christmas Carol’ and I ended up with a pretty good even blend of the two, and I’m pretty proud of this. Here’s my Christmas gift to the fandom, I hope you enjoy! So, grab your hot cocoa and Christmas cookies, settle into a blanket and enjoy this holiday tale. -Minty

Summary: After a nasty fight with Tubbo combined with Tommy’s worsening depression, its Tommy’s final straw as he decides he’s ready to give up. But, it looks like Tommy’s condition and situation has gotten some supernatural attention.

TW: Suicide attempt, talks of suicide, heavy blood and gore, manipulation and blame, major character deaths(?), insanity. (Please tell me if I need to tag anything else!)

-----------------------------------

Imagine it’s Christmas Eve but he didn’t end up going with Technoblade and he’s still alone. He’s still as depressed as ever, and on top of all of that, he had an argument when Tubbo tried to visit that ended worse than anything Tommy ever imagined.

Tommy’s trying his best to enjoy the holiday and ends up wandering around, stumbling upon Technoblade’s house - where Ghostbur and Techno are both singing carols while decorating a tree. Tommy’s heart aches with loneliness as he quickly leaves before anyone could see him through the window. No one had left him any presents (Dream burned them all secretly) and he kept looking over Dream’s gift - a white porcelain mask with eyes and no mouth, like Dream’s. Dream claimed in his note that things were getting dangerous and it was to keep him safe and hide his identity. Something about it felt off, though.

He didn’t want to assume the worst of his friend, but it seemed more like a gift Dream wanted him to have instead of something he wanted. That’s why after a while of just holding it and tracing over the details with his fingers he put it away in his chest. He climbed his tower again and was getting ready to aim for the top of a tree, done with everything - with trying to hope when everything he ever had, his friends and family, were gone. He kept searching for a point to his suffering and found none, so he decided to finally end things for good.

A voice called out to him. It was Phil.

“It’s not really the season for giving up hope, now is it?”

Tommy was of course startled, as a floating spirit in the form of what looks like Philza, his dad, flying and floating in front of him... with wings? Tommy is trying to compose himself while trying to discern whether or not his ‘thing’ is real - touching his shoulder only to touch absolutely nothing, yelling at it to see if it’s a demon, while the spirit is nonetheless, unimpressed. “What are you? Are you really Phil, or am i just... hallucinating again?”

“I am quite real - you can call me your guide of sorts. I’ve taken the form of your loved one to make you feel more at ease. Anyway, Tommyinnit, I’m sent here to stop you from jumping from this pillar.”

“Why exactly should I listen to you? For all I know, you’re just another weird vision like Tubbo was. I’m really tired of my messed up mind, just go away.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Tommy. It’s my sworn duty to step in here, for your behalf.”

“My behalf?! I assure you, whoever you are, I’d be happier dead than to live without anyone who really cares about me.”

“How about a deal then? I will show you three places, events, and if I can’t change your mind, I’ll leave you alone.”

“No lying?”

“Why would I?”

“Okay, sure.” Tommy still didn’t think any of this was real, but he was honestly curious where this weird dream was going. The Guide took Tommy’s hand and told him to trust him, and they both jumped, Tommy yelling, confused, as he fell, fell, fell, preparing for impact and probably death, instead of falling into... snow?

He shivered and looked around - how is the sun up, it was the night a few seconds ago...? The Guide took his hand with a comforting smile and led him through the trees when Tommy froze in his tracks. A house... he KNEW that house. “Look familiar?”

Shouts nearby made his head whip around as a snowball raced toward him. He braced for impact, but it didn’t hit him. Instead, it hit a tree trunk behind him. Laughter filled the air as he heard a familiar voice behind him yell. “HA, your aim is shit, Tommy!” He saw a young version of Technoblade rush through the bushes, and... that was him... a young version of him in the trees, snowball in hand, angry at his missed shot.

“Yeah, well I still have the high ground, you arsehole!” He noticed a young Tubbo next to him, a snowball in each hand wearing a green coat that was way too big for him. He laughed, remembering it - Phil didn’t have money for a new coat for Tubbo that year, so he gave him his older one to use, and the poor kid kept falling over and tripping on it. Tubbo handed Tommy another snowball as they both pelted the snowballs down as Techno rushed into some cover behind a rock.

“This is Christmas by the lake, where Phil grew up. But, how can I see it, that was over six years ago-?” Tommy turned to the guide who showed him who his whole body turned translucent.

“In order to show you events, we must travel to that point in time, but we’ll only be observers, we can’t interact with them.”

Tommy looked over as Technoblade pelted Tommy with a snowball hard, making him lose his balance and fall to the snowy ground below. “This is unreal, it’s so clear, how can I recall this in a dream...?”

“I told you, I am a spirit Tommy, your Guide.” Looking around at it all, Tommy couldn’t help but to start to believe him. The smell of gingerbread filled his nose from the house as Wilbur walked out, his hands in the air.

“Okay guys, Phil told me to tell you to come inside-” Before his older brother could even finish his sentence, three snowballs hit him square in the face. “Hey, I’m not even playing!”

“You’re in the kill zone, Wil!” Tubbo shouted from the treetops as if that would explain everything.

“Ugh, why are you all so annoying-”

Techno smirked, looking over at his brother from his spot covered by the rock. “Aw, come on, don’t be a buzzkill Wilby.” Wilbur stopped at the nickname and turned with a fire in his eyes.

“I’ll show you buzzkill-!” He shouted as he threw a snowball at Techno, running for his own cover.

“Look at you, surrounded by your family, your best friend - it seems like you all love each other a lot.”

“Well, of course, we’re family.” Tommy paused, realizing what he said and quickly correcting himself. “At least, we were.” He watched the scene unfold - Philza called them in for cookies and cocoa and they all rushed into the house. While running, Tubbo tripped on his coat and fell again, and Tommy saw himself stay back and help Tubbo to his feet with a smile.

“I bet Tubbo appreciated your friendship, especially then.”

“Well, I knew what it was like to be the new kid in the family, you know? It’s awkward and weird at first to settle into. You’re by yourself for so long it’s hard to get used to being around people all the time who give you so much affection.” He walked over toward the window and looked inside - Phil put on some Christmas music that blasted through the player and Techno covered his ears, begging for something different, making everyone laugh. Wilbur pulled out his guitar as Technoblade practically slammed the ‘stop’ button on the player.

“All of you look close.”

“We are- were,” Tommy said. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter, none of this does - even if they cared for me and loved me then, doesn’t mean they do now.”

“I thought you said family loved each other no matter what.” The Guide said smoothly. “Why would it make sense for them to stop loving you now?”

“I don’t know...” Tommy breathed, his mind confused and questioning. “Maybe we’re not family. Maybe we... maybe we never were. Anyways, you’ve shown me enough of this to count for the deal, let’s just move on.”

“Hold on, we’re gonna miss my favorite part.” The Guide said as Philza came in with a Santa hat.

“As per tradition in the Sleepy Boys Incorporated Household, me - the Grand Master - shall decide who gets to receive an extra special gift to open before Christmas Day.” Wilbur bounced excitedly on the couch, and Tommy crossed his fingers as they waited. “I have tallied the points-”

“I still think there’s no point system-” Technoblade mumbled as Philza continued.

“And this year, the wearer of the special Santa hat goes to... Tommy!” Phil said as he tossed it over to the boy, who smiled widely. “For your extra help around the house and chores, this year’s for you, buddy.”

“Yay, Tommy!” Wilbur said from the couch as Technoblade smiled and nodded in approval. Tubbo clapped and cheered - this was the first year Tommy had ever been given the hat. Outside the window, Tommy crossed his arms and looked at the snow, knowing what was going to happen next. Young Tommy smiled wide as he clutched the Santa hat in his hands. He looked over to Tubbo for a moment, then to the hat, unknown thoughts in his head. Then, he handed it out to Tubbo.

“Here. You can have it.”

Tubbo looked confused. “But Tommy, you worked so hard for this - you did extra chores, you helped out Wilbur when his beanie got stuck in the tree... you didn’t curse for an entire week!”

“I know.” He smiled, turning into a smirk. “But, you know, if it was that easy for me to get it this year, I can always get it again. And, since it was harder for you, if I don’t give you the hat now, you probably won’t get it until you’re Phil’s age.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Philza shouted as he carried in a large gift-wrapped box to set on the table.

“But Tommy-” Tubbo tried to interject, but Tommy threw him the hat.

“Come on, I insist,” Tommy said, and the two best friends hugged each other tightly. Outside, Tommy looked at the scene, pressing his hand up against the glass, his heart aching uncomfortably, not being able to tear his eyes away from the tender moment. He turned to the spirit, emotion, and anger on his face.

“Tubbo exiled me, he burned his compass, he didn’t show up to my beach party, he didn’t even come to see me.” His eyes looked cold. “He’s NOT my best friend, let alone my friend!”

The spirit looked calm. “I see.” He slowly turned and began to walk away into the forest swiftly, leaving Tommy scrambling to catch up.

--------------------------------------

“Spirit... Guide... whatever you are, wait up!” Tommy shouted as he sprinted after the figure through the trees, suddenly being caught by his shirt before he fell into the water. He looked around and noticed he was in L’manburg - the moon just how he left it when the spirit took him to the past. He noticed the Chinese lanterns, the dock, the houses - it wasn’t just L’manburg, it was New L’manburg. The spirit walked up the steps silently and Tommy was quick to follow. “We’re in the present, in L’manburg, but why?”

“I thought you’d be curious to see how your former friend is celebrating tonight - a look without the trouble of trying to hide or break the rules.” The spirit said simply, before holding out his hand for Tommy to take. “Hold on tightly, please.” Tommy gripped the spirit’s hand as he was dragged through a few walls, freaking out a bit until he realized that he was in the same state as a ghost, or like the spirit called it, an observer - so he couldn’t suffocate.

Whatever Tommy was expecting, it certainly wasn’t this. A room filled with torn posters of Technoblade pasted along the walls calling him all sorts of bad things, and a wooden table in the center with four people sitting around it, Tubbo among them. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea anymore, Big Q. With what Dream’s done to Tommy, what if he gets caught in all this?”

Quackity looked upset, his eyes narrowed. “Tubbo, this is our one and only chance to get revenge for our country, and you’re saying to stop all of our work for the small chance, chance that Tommy will show up?”

“He’s a L’manburg citizen, Quackity. As president, it’s my job to protect every citizen-”

“You’d sacrifice the country, Mr. President, everything we’ve worked for, for one person?!” Quackity snapped. Tommy looked on with piqued interest, noticing how both Ranboo and Fundy sunk down a bit on their chairs from the building tension in the room. Tubbo got up and leaned in so he and Quackity’s faces were inches apart.

“Yes, I would. I’m not going to be responsible for anyone becoming a ghost on my account, Quackity.” Tubbo snapped. “I draw the line at risking innocent lives.”

Tommy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Even after they yelled at each other, screamed at each other, he... he still... cares?

“I’m questioning your true loyalty to your country, Mr. President - it seems your loyalties lie elsewhere. What kind of President wouldn’t be willing to do anything, make any sacrifice, for the betterment of the country?”

“One like Schlatt. Wilbur maybe. But not me.”

“Then, Mr. President, you’re nothing but a traitor.” Quackity said, pulling out his sword and pointing it at Tubbo. “I’m taking you under arrest.” Tubbo slowly put his hands up, looking over to Fundy and Ranboo, who both looked distraught and stayed silent.

“Quackity, you’re insane. You’re going to destroy L’manburg to kill Techno and Dream, you’re going to destroy everything we’ve worked to save.” Tubbo protested, but his cries fell on deaf ears as Quackity forced him to give him his stuff and armor.

Tommy’s mind whirred. “Tubbo still cares about me. Even after everything, he’s still my friend.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I...I can’t believe it.”

“It’s a shame you don’t think the same of him.”

Tommy was quick to respond. “I do, I have, it’s just he’s done so much against me - he burned the compass, he didn’t show up to the beach party-”

Tommy looked over just in time to see Quackity close the jail cell loudly - there was barely enough room for Tubbo to sit or even stand. Tubbo’s hands clutched the bars. “Quackity, don’t do this. Do you even understand what Dream and Techno are capable of?!”

Quackity glared at him. “Of course I do, which is why I need to dispose of them since our leader is too much of a coward to do it himself. Come on guys, we have a festival to prepare for.” Fundy and Ranboo were silent as they passed him, bowing their heads in shame. Tommy walked closer with the spirit to see him pull out...the compass...

The enchanted compass, the matching one to the one Tommy had in his own chest. The one Dream said he burned. That didn’t make any sense, Dream said he- Dream. “Are you tricking me?”

“Why would I do that, Tommy? We made a deal.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense, Tubbo shouldn’t have the compass, it’s supposed to be burned!”

“Ah. Maybe that was the claim that led you astray?”

Tommy silently looked down at Tubbo as he held the compass in his hands, tears welling up in Tubbo’s eyes. “Guess you were right, Tommy. I’m so sorry…” Tommy had no words, thoughts running through his head. This didn’t make any sense. Dream wouldn’t lie to him, he’s his friend. Even so, emotion welled up in his eyes as his stomach formed in knots.

“Dream wouldn’t lie to me. Stop trying to trick me, I know this isn’t real.”

“But I promised you I’d only show the truth, didn’t I?”

“But this can’t be true - Tubbo’s compass is supposed to be burned, he’s not supposed to cry for me, he's supposed to hate me, they’re all supposed to hate me!”

“What if they don’t, Tommy, and they never have?”

“Even if they didn’t...even if they cared, I’ve caused too much trouble - all of this started because of me. So, wouldn’t it be better if I was gone?” The spirit held out his hand to Tommy.

“Do you want to find out?”

--------------------------------------

After a few moments of hesitation, Tommy took the Spirit’s hand, and quickly was dragged upwards through the wall, into darkness, the spirit’s wings taking them up, up, up, and suddenly… he found himself on the ground. Thunder rolled in his ears as a light shower of rain began to fall toward the ground. He was on a mountain, and his hands gripped the soggy grass between his fingers, feeling the realness of it all. He looked around for his winged spirit but found no one. L’manburg stood around him, and he walked down the dock, noticing a crowd of people gathered around a memorial of sorts.

Curious, he crept closer. Who’s memorial was it? It looked nice too - a small stone cover from the rain, vines and flowers growing all around it. He started to worry - did his death cause someone else’s? He looked over at the crowd - he noticed Skeppy holding Bad close as he cried, and there was Puffy and Ant, who looked dazed by it all, their faces solemn. Oh, over there was Quackity - he crossed his arms and looked to the floor. Fundy sat next to George and Sapnap - his eyebrows furrowed in thought. George held Sapnap’s hand in comfort as tears slid down their cheeks every now and then. Punz and Ponk were in the back.. Oh, there was Ranboo!

His half-enderman friend was shaking, as Ghostbur stood at his side and did his best to comfort him, though even Tommy could tell the ghost was more than distraught over it all. Tommy walked closer… wait, was that Technoblade?! What was he doing here…? Isn’t he wanted in L’manburg? Even more surprising, was the tear staining glisten in his eyes - Technoblade was crying. It was an odd sight indeed to see his tough friend weep, but Philza was at his side to pull him close, tears rolling down his cheeks as well.

“He was a hero for L’manburg, and made numerous sacrifices for our country. More than that, he was an uncle, a son, a brother, and a friend to many who knew him.” There was Tubbo, speaking at the podium looking the saddest Tommy had ever seen him. His hands gripped the wood tightly as he shook slightly. “Though he was not with us for long, I think it’s clear to see when I look around this room he touched more lives than he knew. He was brave, strong, and an inspiration to many as someone who encompassed the true values of our nation.. He may be gone, but will always live on in our memories and in our hearts.”

Tommy’s heart dropped as he read the sign: ‘Tommyinnit, joined July 2020, died December 2020. A friend taken too soon.’ This was his memorial, all of them were here… this was HIS funeral! He noticed how Tubbo’s shaking grew more noticable as tears streamed from his eyes that left drops where his speech was prepared. Philza walked up and they both hugged each other tightly, Phil rubbing his back as Tubbo let out a sob and the two walked back to sit with the rest.

Slowly, one by one people began to walk up to a buried spot on the ground - his green bandana was tied tightly to the side as it waved in the wind like a flag. He watched as Ghostbur walked up and left some blue flowers at his grave. “I hope you’re happier, wherever you are. Here’s some blue - I got extra so you won’t run out.” Tommy’s eyes threatened to spill with tears as Ghostbur put a hand on his gravestone. “Both Alivebur and I love you very much, and we’ll miss you a lot, but don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine! I’ll try to take care of Tubbo for you, okay?”

“Okay..” Tommy choked out as a tear slid down his cheek. Ranboo walked up to sit next to Ghostbur, silent. Ghostbur gave him a hug, which he returned before Ghostbur left, walking back into the crowd of people talking.

“I really should have noticed it sooner, shouldn’t I?” Ranboo said. “I should’ve been there more, did more, did anything… but I… I’m so sorry, Tommy.” His hands were shaking as they reached out toward the gravestone but stopped short of touching it. “You did so much for me, you protected me, and I… I couldn’t even do the same for you. I’m a pretty bad friend, aren’t I?”

“No, no.” Though Ranboo couldn’t hear him or see him, Tommy put his hand on Ranboo’s shoulder as he tried his best not to try, sniffling. “You were the best friend I could ever ask for. You were there for me whenever I needed you. This isn’t your fault.”

Both heard steps behind them and turned to notice Techoblade standing there, no clear emotion in his face. Ranboo quickly left, intimidated by the pig hybrid as he disappeared back into the crowd. Technoblade took his crown off as he approached, kneeling in front of the gravestone, silent for a few moments. “I wish we were closer. I wish I would’ve been there to help you before it was too late. I… I wish you knew how much I loved you, but I guess we’re both too similar when it comes to admitting something like that, huh?” Technoblade smiled a bit before it quickly fell. “I know I didn’t agree with your choices, but that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t help you, I should’ve let you know that.” Tommy stood, stunned at Technoblade’s words - that he loved him, that he’d miss him. Techno pulled out a folded cloth. “I was going to give you it for Christmas, but Dream had other plans. I’m sorry, it’s the only present I saved from the lava.” Technoblade set it down next to the flowers. “It’s a cape like mine, see? Wilbur kept telling me how cold you were in exile. Partly it was because of that, the other part was because I was too annoyed when you kept trying to steal mine-” Technoblade sniffled, a few tears going down his cheeks that landed in the dirt below. Philza walked up and gave him a tight hug.

“Shh, Techno. It’s okay. I know he would’ve loved it.” Philza said, comforting his eldest. “Now go talk to Ghostbur and make sure he doesn’t wander off with Friend.” Techno just nodded, taking one last look at the grave and placing his hand on the stone, turning and walking off.

Philza was by far the quietest one of all, running his fingers over the soft green bandana and the top of the gravestone. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he took out a small photo in his pocket. It was an old Christmas photo from so long ago - Technoblade had Tommy up on his shoulders, Wilbur was standing at attention in a salute, holding back a laugh as Tubbo chased his scarf, Philza taking a sort of selfie with the camera, the chaos showing in the background. He wedged it in Technoblade’s cloak. “Here, don’t forget us - the good parts of us.” Philza said softly. “Don’t forget that we’ll always love you, no matter what.” Philza wiped away a few tears from his eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll ever know why you did this, and I don’t think I’ll ever really know. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good father to you, and I hope you’re at peace wherever you are.” Philza took a deep breath getting ready to leave when a loud crash interrupted him.

Tommy, still trying to compose himself and wipe away his tears from his family and friend’s sentiments, looked up in surprise to see Tubbo pissed off, being held back by Technoblade and Puffy, Ghostbur trying to calm him down. Dream got up from his place on the ground, a large crack forming on his white mask. Tubbo yelled, shouted and kicked. “He doesn’t GET to be here, he’s lucky I don’t kill him right now! He’s the one who killed him, he doesn’t get to go near him again!”

Ghostbur looked nervous when Tubbo smacked the blue he offered out of his hand. “Tubbo calm yourself, please, for Tommy-!”

“I didn’t push him off that tower, did I, Tubbo?” Dream’s words were sharp and calm, traced with anger. Everyone fell silent, as Dream approached the President. “I didn’t do anything, if anything, he died because of all of you - you could have stopped me, you could have visited, and you did nothing-”

Without hesitation, Tubbo decked him across the face, his mask flying toward the ground, and suddenly blonde messy hair and piercing green eyes started down at him. “You told him lies, you manipulated him, you made him think he was alone. We may have not done much, even if we knew what you were doing, but at least we didn’t drive him into that depression, Dream. That’s all on you, and you fucking know it.” Tubbo pointed a finger at his chest. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here after everything you did to him. I don’t want you here and I know that he sure as well wouldn’t either.” Tubbo’s eyes narrowed. “So you either leave or we’re settling this right here, right now.”

“Are you threatening me, Mr. President?” Dream smirked. “Not a very wise decision - I’ve beaten you before, I’ve taken everything away from you and watched you beg for mercy.”

“That’s what you don’t understand, Dream.” Tubbo said. “You’ve taken so much away from me I have nothing left to lose.” Dream pulled out his sword but a heavy smack from Tubbo sent it to the floor. “You underestimate just how far I’m willing to go, Dream. You think you’ve seen me upset, seen me angry? You haven’t seen even a fraction of it. I will stop at nothing for Tommy - I don’t even care if you kill me, all I care about is that you’re going down with me.” For the first time in his life, fear flew across Dream’s face.

“Tubbo. Leave Dream alone, he’s not worth it.” Philza said as he turned Tubbo away from Dream and glared down at him. “Just get out of here, Dream.”

“Tubbo never really was the same again after you left.” The guiding spirit turned Tommy’s attention to the side, where he sat at the top of the dome memorial. “You mean a lot to him, and losing you after L’manburg fell to Dream, it was the last straw.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Dream owns L’manburg?! That’s impossible, Tubbo would never allow that to happen.”

“He didn’t.” The spirit replied. “Quackity led the charge against Dream and failed, nearly destroying the nation again before legally surrendering it to Dream. Ranboo was going to let Tubbo out of his cell to help, but when he didn’t hear from you he decided to check on you instead and found your body. As always, Dream traded Quackity L’manburg for something he wanted more than anything - the power to revive Schlatt.”

“Revive Schlatt?!” Tommy’s eyes widened. “Dream knew how to do it all along. So why didn’t he revive Wilbur…?”

“It wasn’t of use to him.” The spirit said. “When you died, L’manburg died with you. Philza fell into a deep depression after losing two of his sons to his own hands, and Technoblade… he went mad.”

“Technoblade went crazy…?!”

The spirit pointed around the corner as they jumped once again, landing on the dock as screams of agony echoed throughout the country. Tommy looked around in disbelief as red blood splattered the ground. He noticed Niki run past him toward the bridge, terrified. A dark shadow passed overhead and Technoblade landed in front of her with a wide smile and crazy eyes. “Where are you going, Niki…?”

“N-nowhere, I was just going to go fishing…”

“Really…? If I knew any better, I would have thought you were trying to leave.” Techno’s eyes narrowed. “You know how Dream feels about people breaking his rules.”

“Technoblade, I’m sorry, please… I promise, I won’t come near the docks ever again-!” Niki pleaded as Techno’s laugh echoed through the walls, turning into… crying? Technoblade sobbed as he leaned on his trident as a sort of staff. Niki approached, sympathetic.

“I want him back, Niki. I just want him back.” Technoblade said. “I’d do anything for him, any goddamn thing…” The crying stopped as Techno looked up, eyes full of anger. “Even if that means ripping the guts out of some lying two-faced bitch who didn’t care enough to save him. Come here you little-!” He charged at Niki, and she took off again, screaming, crying for help.

“N-no… Technoblade stop-!” Tommy cried, but Techno didn’t hear him as he snatched her up and beheaded her in one rip, sending blood everywhere. Niki’s painful screams filled his ears.

“Tubbo managed to take Dream down, and they both died in one of his death traps. Now, thanks to his manipulation, Technoblade is a bloodthirsty warrior with no master to serve. He clings to the bit of sanity he has left, not being able to deal with the guilt of being responsible for your death, so he blames others.”

“This can’t be true. Surely if I died some good would come from it.” Tommy said.

“The only good that would come of your death would be Dream’s, who thanks to Tubbo died much earlier than he was supposed to, and in turn saved his people from another tyrannical ruler.” The spirit said. “As for Ghostbur, well…”

Tommy turned around to notice Ghostbur flying around, wondering in the bloody mess of L’manburg that was too eerily quiet for Tommy’s liking. The spirit was gone again, Tommy was alone. He followed Ghostbur as he stepped over dead bodies and looked inside houses. “Hey Technoblade?” Ghostbur called, looking around. “Hey Techno, I have a fun idea to prank Tubbo with, where are you?” He opened the door to Philza’s house. “Philza? Philza Minecraft?!” He called. “I can’t find Techno, do you know where he… oh, you’re not here either.” He knocked, door to door, calling out for everyone, but it was dead silent. “Quackity?! Niki…? Fundy, where are you?!”

Tommy reached to grab Ghostbur’s hand. “They’re not here, Wil. They’re dead.” But Ghostbur didn’t notice him in the slightest.

“Tubbo?! Fundy…?”

“Ghostbur, they’re dead. You gotta stop, they’re not here.” Tommy said solemnly. “They’re dead because of me, but you gotta stop looking, they’re gone-”

“Sapnap? Bad…?”

“Wilbur please.” Tommy begged. “They’re dead, you have to move on.”

“George…?”

“They’re dead, WIlbur.” Tommy snapped, beginning to cry. He looked around for his spirit friend. “Spirit, can you hear me? I want to go back, please let me go back. I don’t want this to happen, please! Can I change it? Is there still time?! I want to live!”

-------------------------------------

When he opened his eyes, he was in his bed in the tent, the morning sun just peaking above the horizon. He wiped a few tears off his cheeks. Was it all a dream… was it not real…? He scrambled for his calendar - Christmas Day. There’s still time. He could fix everything! He searched in his chest for the compass and his discs as he packed a bag - he looked over the mask for a second, before rushing outside and in a fit of rage, frisbees it into the ocean and watched it sink to the bottom. “Fuck you, Dream.” He cursed, feeling freer than he had in weeks.

He grabbed his bag and ran off into the forest toward the snow covered house he knew, picking up some blue cornflowers along the way. His heart felt light as he hummed Christmas carols, running along the path he knew until he saw Technoblade’s house in the distance. Running up to the door, he knocked, smiling. The house was decorated beautifully, and when Ghostbur opened the door he smiled. “Hello, Tommy!”

“Hey Ghostbur!” Tommy smiled. “Sorry it’s a bit early, but I just couldn’t wait to come over and say Merry Christmas!” Technoblade came over to the door, looking extremely confused.

“Tommy…?” Technoblade yawned before Tommy crashed into him with a hug, only making the older increasingly confused. “Um-”

“Merry Christmas, Technobade.” Tommy said happily, handing out the blue flowers to Ghostbur, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. “This is for you.”

“So much blue!” Ghostbur shook with excitement, taking the flowers in his hands. “They’re so pretty, thanks Tommy!”

“You’re welcome.” Tommy said, feeling a sense of dejia vu from it all. Technoblade smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wanna come inside? I was just about to make breakfast.” Technoblade’s voice was gentle, and for the first time in a long while Tommy felt really happy. Techno ushered him inside by the fire, insisting that he was turning blue out in the snow without a jacket. Ghostbur realized too quickly that Techno didn’t have a vase for the flowers, but with a bit of help from Tommy, he was beginning to weave a flower crown. It was nice to revisit that - he remembered how Philza taught them all how to weave flowercrowns when they were younger, and how to make an acorn whistle, which he quickly regretted. Tommy laughed as he remembered Phil’s face as all three of them whistled all the way home so loud they scared away any animals within a 100 mile radius, for sure.

Techboblade was quiet but content, relaxed, and happy. After a nice breakfast of eggs and toast - the first good breakfast Tommy had in ages, which he finished in record time - Wilbur stood under the tree to open gifts excitedly like he was a child again. As they all settled in, a quick knock on Technoblade’s door interrupted them. “Hello- Oh… hey Phil.”

To his surprise, Tommy and Wilbur couldn’t see their dad at all behind the large pile of wrapped boxes in his hands. His breaths were labored as he spoke. “I hope I’m not late-”

“No, no. In fact, you’re just on time.”

“I was looking for Tommy’s house everywhere and then I realized I went the wrong way, and then he wasn’t there-” Philza began, walking in as he noticed Tommy sitting on the floor. “Well, there you are.”

“Here I am.” Tommy said with a sheepish smile. “Do you need help with that?”

“Please.”

After all of Phil’s gifts were added to the growing collection under the tree, his father pulled Tommy in for a quick hug. “I’m glad you’re here. Christmas wouldn’t be the same with you, you know.”

“I’m glad you didn’t forget me.” Tommy admitted softly, and Phil squeezed around his middle a little tighter.

“Never.” Philza whispered in response, making the younger tear up a bit at the words in joy. When they both pulled away Tommy wiped his eyes, not being able to help his bright smile. “Alright, we’ve got some presents to open, don’t we?”

“We may have to do mine first, I didn't have much time to wrap-” Tommy said as he grabbed his bag and searched. Wilbur proudly showed off his Blue flower crown with glee, making the other two smile at his child-like cheer. Technoblade stilled as Tommy held out a diamond for him. “I’m sorry, I was in a bit of a hurry, I know you have netherite, if you don’t want it-”

“I love it, Tommy.” Technoblade said as he took the diamond and held it in his hands. “It means a lot to me you’d give me it. Thank you.” The two shared a smile before Techno’s face turned into a smirk. “Plus, you’re poor, it was the best you could do, anyway-”

And, as Philza admired and thanked Tommy for the stone sword, Tommy couldn’t help but notice a figure in the window, a figure he thought he’d never see again. His Guardian Spirit, looking inside from the window at the scene with a warm smile. As the spirit looked inside the joyful house, Tommy could distinctly recall a voice in his head echoing words that he’d never forget.

“It’s a wonderful life, isn’t it Tommy?”

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sophiasharp · 4 years

Text

Well this is barely coming out before the new killer is released and this entire thing is deemed irrelevant, but at least it’s done! I don’t remember who it was and I don’t have the post saved, but before we had confirmation of who the killer was for A Binding of Kin, someone suggested that it may be the Witch from L4D. I can’t tell you why, but for some reason that idea and what that would mean for Bill just possessed me. I wrote the majority of this in one day and then just let it sit unfinished for a few months until I had the time and mental capacity to finish it, and then spent even more time putting off editing it, but at least it’s here now. Quick disclaimer, I haven’t personally played the original L4D or its sequel, nor have I read the comics, all the stuff I wrote about lore-wise was based off of the info in the fandom wiki. Also, I wrote this in second person? For some reason? Idk why it just seemed like the right thing to do. Anyway:

Retrieved

Tw: cannon typical violence, blood, gore, cannon typical minor character death, foul language, possibly ooc character interactions but I tried my best.

Your name is William Overbeck, Bill to your friends. About three years ago, you gave your life starting up a faulty generator so that your friends, you family, could escape to safety from a mindless horde of monsters. That should have been the end for you, but… it wasn’t. Instead, you woke up to new people, new faces for you to protect while living in a brand-new endless hell. Well, no, actually. Some of the others here call it hell, but that’s not really what this is. Hell was where you came from, where the world was slowly being wiped out by a plague that turned innocent people into walking nightmares. Hell was what you left behind to save the people you care about. Hell isn’t here. This place, even with its endless, repetitive death, could never match what you went through back there. And in some twisted way, you’re thankful for that. Knowing that you’ve already been through worse brings a sick sort of comfort with it. The worst is already behind you, it can’t hurt you again, and if this monotonous void of death was what it cost of what little you cared about in that world being kept safe? So be it.

… until.

It was a day like any other in the fog. People congregated around the campfire in different groups, talking and bantering amongst each other, when suddenly you felt a telltale shiver go down your back. The call for a trial. You look around you to see the others you’d be taking the trial with. Dwight’s eyes are wide and looking around, so safe to guess he’s coming. Kate gets up off her log and does the same cursory sweep of the campfire as they did. The odd thing is that that’s it. There’s no one else. “Shit,” you mumble to yourself. Only three people being called can only mean one thing: there’s someone new that’s been brought to the realm, likely along with a whole new horror show to accompany them, and you happen to be the lucky few chosen to greet them. You suppose it has been a while since the newest girl showed up, that Rakoto woman, and that you all were due for a shake-up in the formula. Feeling the sneaking suspicion that things wouldn’t go as smoothly as one would hope- trials with new people never do- you go over to your personal pile of supplies and take out a skeleton key, a gold token, and some blood amber. If you’re lucky you won’t need to use it, but something tells you this isn’t gonna be a lucky trial. You only have a few extra seconds to burn some bloody party streamers before your vision begins to fade, your body becomes less and less corporeal, and you’re taken off to the trial.

The trial grounds are new, but somehow not as new as they should be. It’s a heavy forest, common trend in the Entity’s Realm, but there’s something familiar about it. You’ve been here before, haven’t you? No, no you can’t have, you’re imagining things. What you aren’t imaging is what looks to be the remains of a small camp tucked to the side near the trial walls. Upon further investigation, you find a pile full of several different types of ammo, some medical supplies which you doubt could be of any use anymore, and a baseball bat. You pick it up and it’s strange how eerily comfortable it feels in your hands. Testing its strength, you strike it against the nearest tree. It promptly shatters. Of course the Entity would never let the survivors get any such advantage over the killer.

You keep walking around the new realm, still no sign of what fresh new horror you’ve been stuck with yet. It puts you on edge. Finally, you find Dwight on a generator, already a good way through in progress. You ask if he’s seen anyone yet, he hasn’t. You join him on the generator and finish it quickly. The two of you go forward and continue to explore the new environment. You take out the key and try to sense anyone or anything else, but nothing. Eventually you and Dwight find a set of railroad tracks, which you follow to the center of the map. An abandoned train station greets you there, and once again a foreboding sense of deja vu tingles at the back of your head. Finding a generator in one of the decrepit rooms the station offered, along with another pile of miscellaneous ammo, you and Dwight begin work again. It’s when you get about halfway through that relative silence is pierced by an ear splitting screech. You feel the atmosphere grow denser, a sign that someone has been injured. You’re not paying attention to that though. You’ve suddenly been taken out of the trial entirely as your mind brings you back to your old life and your old friends.

You remember now, the four of you had come to this station after the military camp you’d found was overrun by infected. This was where the line ended. There had been a doctor with you, but he hadn’t made it. After some tense debate, you’d all decided to try your luck finding a boat and waiting out the apocalypse on a deserted island. It was that decision that led the team to finding an abandoned boat, hoping to find a way off the mainland, only to be confronted by the shrill cries of a horde of-

The sound of Kate falling to the ground takes you out of your stupor. No. That’s not what this place is. That’s not who you heard. You’re just imagining things. Get ahold of yourself and focus. Your teammates need you.

It doesn’t take long for Kate’s voice to once again echo throughout the station, her aura contracting in pain before hanging limp on a meat hook. You decide to go get her off and leave Dwight to finish the gen. You’re beaten to it, however, when you’re about halfway to her. You think for a second that Dwight abandoned the generator, but just as you do the machine you both had worked on sounds off in the distance. That leaves only the new guy. Whoever they are, it’s good to know they’re the more altruistic type. Your heart sinks as you hear the same nauseating scream from earlier and the air grows heavier with another injury: Dwight, probably. Sure enough, it doesn’t take long for the leader’s scream to echo and even less for his body to be left hanging on a hook. He’s closer by this time, so you double back and makes your way over. On your way you hear no telltale heartbeat but instead the faint sounds of mournful weeping in the distance. Once again, you’re shaken by the familiarity of the sound, that night on the boat once again surfacing in your memory, but you shake it off. That’s not it. That can’t be it. Maybe all this time living in constant abject horror is finally getting to you. Either way, you’re just getting sidetracked. Stay on task. Get Dwight, finish the gens, get out.

You finally make it to the leader, the coast seemingly clear, and with a grunt you manage to take the young man off of the wicked curve of metal before the mandibles of their captor could fully appear. Bandaging his wounds, you try to ask what the killer was, what they looked like, anything, but your questions were left unanswered by your companion who in fact didn’t even hear your question. A killer leaving a survivor deaf wasn’t completely unheard of, sometimes the Hag could put that effect on her traps and recently the Cannibal learned how to do the same when throwing a survivor to the ground, even sharing how to do it with other killers. But this killer just got here. They can’t have had time to learn how to do that yet. This must be a more innate ability then; perhaps something to do with the screams?

After you finish bandaging his wounds, Dwight scurries off elsewhere to keep looking for a gen, or maybe even the new survivor. You don’t really know. Either way, you continue searching around the place, and eventually find a new generator and start work on it. In the distance, a different generator goes off. Good. Just two more to go then. We can do this. That small bit of hope is dashed when once again you feel more survivors get injured, two in succession. They must have been working together. As you’re working, you begin to once again hear familiar cries, this time of rage and fury rather than mourning. You want desperately to shrug it off, but you can hear it coming closer, the killer’s heartbeat beginning to sound, and to your right you find Kate running desperately in your direction, trying and failing to lead whatever the monster is off her trail. You dive behind the tree your generator was next to and just as you’re trying to figure out what to do, you hear the singer go down mere meters away from you. The sounds the creature emits turning back into sobbing for just a second. It’s not picking her up. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and look around the corner of the tree to face whatever creature was waiting there, and your heart stops.

The gaunt, gangly frame of what used to be a woman stands over Kate’s groaning form on the ground. Pale blonde hair, leathery white skin, sunken eyes, and blood-stained, wicked claws where hands probably used to be combined with its downright pitiful crying make the thing utterly unmistakable for anything else. Three whole years after first coming to this God-forsaken place, you were once again confronted by a Witch.

It doesn’t take long for you to find out why it’s leaving Kate on the ground. Once again raising its voice in rage, it lunges onto the young woman, not unlike what the Hag might do, only now it mounts on top of her form in a very familiar display, thrashing and clawing at Kate’s torso, rendering it nothing more than an unrecognizable mess of blood and flesh. While it’s distracted, you opt to flee before it has the chance to notice your presence. A mori on its first day in the realm. Not completely unheard of, especially with killers that had a background with their accompanying survivor, but still not a good sign. It was more than likely that if he were to be caught again, Dwight would be a goner. Looks like the key you brought would be coming in handy after all.

After waiting for the Witch to abandon the area you’d been working in, you come back to the gen and try to make up for lost progress. You make it about halfway through when you feel another survivor get injured, and only a few seconds later you hear someone go down. It’s a woman’s voice. One you could have sworn you remembered. ‘No, it’s not her,’ you try to reason with yourself. She’s still back home with the others. Maybe watching the world burn from the safety of an island, maybe still looking for a place to live in peace, maybe already dead in a ditch from infected, the point is that she can’t be here. However, as your mind is racing, an agonized scream cuts through the air, one you can no longer deny you’ve heard before, long before you ended up here. You don’t waste any more time with the generator, leaving it for Dwight to maybe find, you beeline for where you see the aura of her body hanging across the map. Why is she here? How is this possible? Why now? Couldn’t the Entity have been satisfied with just you? Questions are swarming around in your head but eventually they all fall flat as you make it to the hook and you see her. Same red track suit, same brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, same jeans coated in dirt, same beat to shit sneakers. It was unmistakable that the young woman hanging in front of him was none other than Zoey.

Her eyes were screwed closed in pain, soft groans and grunts of pain slipping out. There’s a long gash across her torso and you really wish you could have just ten minutes where everything in your life wasn’t crashing spectacularly together, maybe give you a minute to collect yourself before it all comes crumbling down around you, but it occurs to you once again that you don’t have time for that now. You’re stuck in what now might as well be hell, one of your teammates was slashed to bits by a monster you thought you’d left behind and who was once your closest companion, practically a daughter to you, is now hanging from a meat hook and by God you cannot let her die there. You faced hell once before, you can do it again. With clarity you haven’t had since this nightmare of a trial began, you run up to the hook and hoist Zoey off the jagged, rusted metal and back onto the ground. For the first time since you’ve found her, Zoey opens her eyes. “Jesus, what the hell was- “And she finally looks up at you. Her eyes widen and for a moment she just stares before pushing you away and scrambling back, still clutching her bleeding shoulder. “No. No! Stay away from me!”

“Calm down, she’ll hear us, remember?”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you get away from me!

“You’re bleeding out, we need to get you out of here before- “

“I said get away from me! I don’t know who you think you are but you have some nerve trying to use him to get to me.”

“Zoey, what the hell, you have to let me help you-”

“Screw you, you’re not him, you’re just some weird imposter, as weird as everything else has been in this place!

“I know this is confusing, but you have to listen- “

“Are you deaf? Leave me alone! He’s dead. He’s dead and gone and you have no right to try to talk to me like you’re him because you’ll never be half the man he was- “

You’ve had enough of her rambling, you’re wasting too much time as is and it’s already so much to handle, so finally you just walk up to her and hug her. She tries to bat you away, but it’s only halfhearted and eventually she sinks into your arms and starts crying. You try your best not to break down as well. The two of you stay like that for a while, just holding each other. Finally, Zoey calms down enough to talk and sniffles out a shaky “You should be dead.” You nod your head “I know, I should be, I don’t know why I’m here either, and I wish you didn’t have to be here with me.” She looks up at you. “Where the hell are we anyway?” You struggle to answer, but while you do you hear Dwight go down in the distance. Shit, you hadn’t even noticed he was injured. You take your companion’s wrist and start marching away from the hook the two of you were still nearby. “I can’t explain now. We’re running out of time. Let me see your shoulder, and stay close.” She nods reluctantly. Soon after you finish tending to her wounds, you hear your bespectacled friend’s pained screaming in the distance until the air goes quiet once again and the death is felt in the air. Zoey tries to give some sort of condolence, but you stop her midway. “He’ll be fine.” You say. She looks at you incredulously. “Death doesn’t really stick around here, not in the same way it didn’t back home though so I count my blessings. I’ll show you when we get back to camp, but for now just keep your mouth shut until you see a big metal hatch sticking out where it wasn’t before.” Her eyes widen, eyebrows rising up her forehead, still not entirely believing what you were saying, but as you began to walk away, she quickly followed behind nonetheless.

By some stroke of luck, you managed to find the hatch not long after. You opened the hatch and, after proving that it was safe- or at least safer than staying with the Witch -brought Zoey through the tunnel and back to the campfire. The young woman wasn’t entirely convinced by Dwight’s introduction to the realm. You couldn’t blame her; even now it was hard to process that she was really here. But still, being there to introduce her to the group, help explain the new odds she would be fighting, even just her being there made you feel something, a mix of things really. Something in between outrage, sorrow, denial, relief, comfort, but above all else, determination. Until now, you’ve been borderline content where you’ve been. You’d accepted your fate, almost. You still fought like hell every damn day, of course you did, but just surviving was getting too easy. You’d nearly forgotten that escape was an option, even if no one was certain it was even possible. But you remembered now. You have people to save, not just from the everyday threat of death, but from this entire hell hole. You have a future to work towards, one that doesn’t involve living under the tendrils of an overpowered spider. For your sake, and the sake of your friends, old and new. You refuse to let them be left behind.

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celestialscarlet · 4 years

Text

Guardian Angel

So this isn’t anything especially novel, but I wanted to elaborate on Phil and Will’s interaction before the explosion, with a little bit of everyone mentioned. It’s pretty much just angst and sad, so enjoy!

(I used all pronouns for Eret, but I kept them consistent through paragraphs for clarity.)

TW// Character death, vague description of blood and gore, assisted suicide (?)

_________________

A guardian angel. Phil had tried to take the role, but now it felt so unfitting. Guardian Angels succeeded in protecting their charges, and all he had done was be complicit and silent. He had tried to watch over his family. But fear had kept him back. That he’d ruin the few precious thing he had to care about. But it was Hope too. Hope that they could take care of one another. When Techno had come in and joined them, when it was the three of them, his sons, he thought it’d be ok.

But now he was here. A nervous flutter was all that alerted Wilbur of his entrance. But his son barely turned, there was a cruel smile on his face.

But it wasn’t cruel, was it? No. It was an attempt to be cruel, but Wilbur didn’t have the capacity to be cruel. Not anymore. All he could be was hollow. There was only empty in his eyes, that portrayed a tired that could only be felt by those who’d gone through as much as he had.

“What are you doing,” it was quiet. An rage simmered underneath the surface, but maybe not towards the man who stood opposite to him, but at himself.

He should’ve done something. He was here watching. Philza saw the big picture as everyone was still scrambling to put together the pieces.

“Do you know what that button does, Phil?” Wilbur asked with a haphazard gesture.

“Yes.”

Silence lapsed, as Philza tried desperately to think of anything to say that hadn’t already been said. To convince him. Wilbur moved towards the signs that had been posted all around the room.

“Have you heard the song?”

He didn’t even get a chance to answer before Wilbur continued.

“There was a special place Philza. Was. This shell of L’manburg is not the sanctuary I had tried to build.”

“Not yet, but it could be. Tubbo’s president. Let him prove to you, let us all prove to you that this can be different.” Phil reached out and tried to close the gap, but Will recoiled as if he had been struck.

“Do you know how many times I’ve come here,” Wilbur asked his voice shaking with rage. His first slammed against the stone, just above the button. Phil flinched almost imperceptibly, but Wilbur had caught it.

“You don’t even trust me. Good. No one should ever trust anyone. Not Tubbo, not Techno, not Eret, not Dream. Especially not me”

The faint explosions of fireworks were muffled by their position underground and yet the noise seemed to only further agitate Will.

“Look at them, celebrating. They don’t even know I’m in here. They trusted me, they’re fools. I told them all. I told them what would happen,” there was a scoff, and Wilbur turned his back to Philza. His knuckles bled white, and hands were shaking.

“Just take a step back Will, it’s not too late. L’manburg is here. We’re all here,” the winged figure could feel himself losing his son. He could feel Will spiraling.

He offered a hand, and his wings spread slightly. Hope. Almost. There was hesitation now. A single tear traced its way down Wilbur’s check. Philza could see the shine.

“There was a traitor before, you may know him. He had a saying...”

It was never meant to be.

His hands shook nervously, he swallowed. This was the best thing.

“The chests are empty Eret.”

“What is this?”

“Why do you look nervous?”

Silence was their only answer, well that and the press of a button. As the walls started to shift and change, Eret stumbled backwards and pressed himself into the chamber that had been made for safety.

Then all he heard was screaming, the sound of swords tearing into armor. Blood stained the ground. So much. Too much. What had he done? Then he heard laughter. The sound of men celebrating their victory. Bile rose in his throat. He caught a glimpse of torn bandanas and ripped uniforms. It had been a slaughter. The coup de grâce. Better to end the war now, before it really started. When the ending was inevitable anyway...right? He had to compose himself. He was king now. He didn’t regret what he’d done. He didn’t regret it. He didn’t...

As she walked back into the open, she felt a clap on her back from Dream. It took everything in her not to flinch away from the touch.

“We’ll have to get you a crown now your highness. How does it feel?” A smile split across his face. A broken one, a hollow one, put on more to convince himself that they’d done the right thing.

“Good.”

They paused before continuing.

“Down with the revolution boys. It was never meant to be.”

Philza heard the hissing, and on instinct alone he reached forward and pulled Wilbur back into himself. His wings spreading around them both. He felt the wave of force pull at the muscles. Debris shredded the feathers. Ringing filled his ears, and Phil stumbled, pulling them both backwards. Eventually, when he hoped things were safe, he drew them back best he could and peered out. A hole had been torn into the wall, he watched the carnage and what was left of L’manburg.

Alex laid on the ground, burns covering his body. Closest to the blast and had suffered for it. One of the champions of the war, he had only ever wanted to do what was right.

Tommy held Tubbo, blood coming from hidden wounds. Calling out hoarsely for the very man that had caused all of this. Because he knew it had been Wilbur. He knew, but how could he believe it?

Eret stood with Nikki and Fundy. Their crown was long gone now, placed upon another’s head. They lost and continued to lose. A horrible sense of déjà vu filled them. This was their fault; they should never have been a traitor. L’manburg had been doomed to violence because of them. Horror almost dropped Eret to their knees, but Nikki and Fundy help them up. They were all in this together again. Past sins were forgiven.

Karl pulled Sapnap out of rumble, laughing from the shock of it all. He couldn’t even stand to look at the state of Alex. His fiancées, both barely holding on. Wet tears tracked down his face.

George rushed on to the scene trying desperately to help those injured and made his way over to Quackity - the two discarded Vice President together again. The crown fell off his head, and George barely gave it a passing glance, not being able to bear the thought of the weight.

Ponk, Purpled, Punz, and Antfrost tried desperately to push the fallen rumble. Half in a state of shock, while the others were barely able to see through their tears. They all had injuries of their own, but they couldn’t possibly spend a thought on that. Not when Sam and Bad were trapped underneath.

Techno was stepping away from the crowd as if they had made a decision of their own. Pulling the mask further over their own face. This scene, a tragedy to most, was not a surprise to him. War ignored no victims, spared no innocents.

He was so unphased, he ignored Dream who was watching with a mad grin on his face. Laughing not out of shock, but because this had been the plan all along. The puppet master had always known this is how it would end. Because what better revenge for that loss all those months ago, then to drive a man mad into blowing up the very thing he’d fought for – and take out any threats at the same time.

Phil took it all in, unable to comprehend the pain. The loss. The suffering.

“What have you done Will,” Phil’s hand went to cover his mouth. Tears numbly falling from his eyes. Not even he had escaped the damage. Sparing a glance at the wings that now hung on his back, he felt a pit in his stomach. A guardian angel who couldn’t do his job, well he deserved to lose his wings.

“Phil,” it was soft, pleading.

Turning back to Wilbur who was crumpled in a heap at one of the walls left standing, he closed the distance between them.

Crouching down, Phil placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Kill me.”

Will forced his father to look at him. Pulling Wilbur into a hug, he felt a head rest on his shoulder.

“Please.”

A hand drifted to the sheathed sword at Phil’s waist. All he could see was their anger. The anger when they all came into the room where Wilbur laid now. They wouldn’t understand, Phil had only just barely begun to grasp it.

He remembered watching his first steps. Watching Wilbur sloppily spar with Techno. As they continued to grow up, Wilbur slowly begin to teach Tommy, and take in Tubbo. He remembered the first war they so valiantly fought. The van, the walls. Watching it all. The Declaration, the election, the highs and the lows.

“You’re my son. I’ll always love you. I’m sorry,” and with that he made a final decisive motion.

Phil felt his son bleed out in his arms, and stayed there. Through the fighting, the withers, the panic. He couldn’t protect him in life, but now - maybe now he could protect him. When he finally did get up the courage to leave and face the rest, Phil turned to give one last look. And maybe, just maybe he had felt the ghost of a touch in his shoulder. Forgiveness... or maybe he had just imagined it.

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doctorstrangeaskblog · 5 years

Note

How do you make a successful ask blog? I want to start one for a different marvel character, but I don’t think I’d have anyone to interact with, and idk how to make it like yours, cause you always seem to have stuff to respond to

It’s easier when it’s a famous character, of course. I have some steps.

Create the blog with a good icon and header

Write your rules in description or create a rules page.

Use icons, screencaps , your drawings, cosplay or gifs to reply, whatever you use, don’t reply only with text because it makes things boring and it’s hard to figure the expression of the character, etc.

At first, add some content to your blog by posting and/or reblogging things related to your character so the fandom will know that you exist.

During the first days, things are quiet because nobody knows your blog exists.

So send yourself asks or ask a friend to do so in order to start the blog and show people that you reply asks in roleplay.

If you want to roleplay long threads, made a side blog for that. Ask blogs in my opinion work better when they’re more objective.

Interact with other ask blog who are open to such interaction.

Make a queue that will post itself a number of times per day, so your blog remains always active (it’s hard when I’m busy, but I try).

Don’t post too much at once (I know I do that a lot, but it’s because I like anyway, I know I lose some followers sometimes while doing that but anyway, I like).

Tag the person who sent the ask (I know I’m so lazy and only do that to people when the ask is old or when it’s roleplay…) so they will see you replied and send more asks.

If using someone else’s gifs, ask for permission before, or use Tumblr search results gifs or make your own. The same for icons.

Try to stick to canon. You can manage other verses if you want, but do your best to stay in character and explain every time something is not canon so people won’t get confused.

Reply duplicate asks anyway, the answer doesn’t need to be the same as the other.

Study the character you’re rping, so things will be in character.

Give your character moods, like, sometimes he’s angry, sometimes he’s patient, etc.

Make your character get affected by the asks he gets, it makes things more realistic, like, if someone sends Stephen a happy ask, he’ll feel happy (if there isn’t anything sad affecting him) and his mood will be happy for a few asks ahead, etc.

Remember your character doesn’t need to always say the truth, he can lie, he can be too sad to reply, he might not want to reply, he might talk too much or too little depending of his mood.

Add characters who are related to yours in the ask blog, even if they’re secondary, that will give some context.

Block and report haters, spam and things of the sort. You don’t have to lose your time with them and they’re just mean.

Take screencaps of the asks you receive and post them like text posts, I don’t know why, but apparently text posts or image posts tend to get more seen than just replying the ask directly. I don’t know why, but some themes display the asks terribly, so taking screencaps sort of guarantees the ask will be understandable. Some blogs hide the icons of the sender etc. and that’s not visually pleasant.

Use tags. Don’t spam just one tag all at once, but remember to add relevant ones, like I use doctor strange, dr.strange, stephen, stephen strange, marvel, ben, benedict, benedict cumberbatch, avengers, avengers infinity war, iw, infinity war, magic, sorcerer, wizard…By using different tags in different moments, there’s more chance people will see your posts and you won’t overload any of the tags.

Remember to enable asks otherwise people won’t be able to send messages.

Choose a cool theme that has to do with the character.

Add links to separate your content and make things more organized.

Be nice to people. Don’t attack anyone, and don’t make your character attack anyone. It’s okay if it’s during a roleplay, but in real life situations, try to be polite, if you offend someone, just apologize and if someone is hating on you just block them. Try to keep a sweet, calm atmosphere for people, and that includes avoiding talking about polemic things.

Tag nsfw things (sometimes I forget) and if Tumblr says a post of yours is nsfw while it’s not, appeal. When you appeal, Tumblr will check again and correct their mistake.

Don’t post offensive things, and be careful to not trigger phobias (avoid putting gore or scary pics, and if you do, tag it with trigger warnings (tw: spider, tw: blood, etc.).

Don’t rp inappropriate things with people who aren’t ready for that, report if you see someone rping smut or gore with minors or harassing other blogs.

Remember to be responsible, like, if someone messages you they’re depressed, tell them to search for help, go to a doctor, etc. Never stimulate hate, sadness and things of the sort in real life situations.

If it’s inside a roleplay story, it’s okay for the character to say or do bad things, as long as it’s part of the story only and doesn’t have to do with polemic things, racism, religion etc.

Don’t impose verses on other blogs, but talk and plot with the other user first to see if they accept the idea. Like, it’s annoying when someone sends me an ask saying/acting like Stephen did something while I didn’t agree with that. You control your character and the other users control theirs.

Avoid toxic people and try to not spam other users, only if they want to, like, I love being spammed with asks, but some users don’t.

Be patient. Ask blogs might take some time to start receiving asks, but don’t give up.

Tertiary and not very famous characters take longer to get asks, and that’s normal, it’s not because you’re bad or anything.

That’s what came to mind now. I’ll add if I remember something.

#ask blogs #ask blog #how to make an ask blog #askblog #meta #hints #tutorial

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boldbravery-blog · 6 years

Text

RULES

DISCLAIMER

I do not own anything that I post on this blog unless otherwise stated. I don’t own the Harry Potter franchise in any sense, nor any of its characters. I do, however, own all headcanons made for Godric and his history, so do not take those either. I own the graphics I make as well, which will be tagged as such.

CREDIT

I do not make my own icons, I have them saved from various sources on tumblr made for supplying rpers.

WRITING

I’ll write anywhere between one-liners to full on novellas, but I usually go for something in the middle. Either way, you don’t have to match me. I prefer quality over quantity, but be mindful of the fact that receiving one line to several paragraphs can be discouraging.

Smut is up in the air. I and my muse are of age (in most verses), but I haven’t really written it before. So, fade to black is likely what will happen, if it happens.

Sometimes I take a million years to reply, sometimes I take two seconds. It all depends on the muse I have at the moment.

FOLLOWING & EXCLUSIVITY

I have become uncomfortable following those who are sixteen years of age or younger because of age difference. It has nothing to do with writing ability or anything like that, I know you are all fantastic writers but there difference in the stages of life a minor that young and I are in even though I am not that much older. I will not be following those under sixteen. If you are currently sixteen, then I will be very selective in following you.

If I do not follow you back, it is likely because I have seen you post something that shows any bigotry or something similar. If you don’t have a rules page, I am more hesitant to follow, but may still do so. Additionally, I prefer to have some information about your character on your blog, especially original characters, but again it is not necessarily a deterrent. There is also the possibility that I don’t see our muses interacting or meshing well together, or I follow a lot of people and don’t really have the time to follow any more.

Recently I have been more confident in my writing (well, I’m trying anyway) so I welcome Godric Gryffindors following me! You will have to be the one to follow first generally, as I know that duplicates can make other uncomfortable.

I am selective and private, which means I am particular about who I write with and I only write with mutuals.

In terms of exclusivity, I no longer practice it. However, I now have mains, which is a rather specific term for me. I will take up the three interpretations of a character (canon or an important figure in Godric’s life; i.e. an important person he met in his travels), and three OCs with a specific face claim. Also, I will be ship exclusive with only one interpretation of a character. In some cases, if it makes you more comfortable, I will go singularly exclusive with you, but there needs to be a lot of ooc communication before I agree to this.

SHIPPING

I love writing ships, and I’m always willing to test one out. I tend to be able to see potential for a ship if it could happen, but never think that I am trying to force it on you, because I don’t like when that happens either. Above all, though, I ship Godric with chemistry and he is pansexual. Never be afraid to approach me about starting one!

I will not ship with muns who are under eighteen for my own comfort and, in the off chance of more sexual themes occurring, I don’t want to get in legal trouble.

THE DO’S

Send me in character memes if we are mutuals.

Send me out of character memes if we are mutuals or not.

Turn an ask meme into a thread as a new post.

Start multiple threads with me, even if we already have a lot.

Have fun!

THE DONT’S

Godmod.

Send anon hate directed at me or my followers.

Use me as a meme resource. If able, please reblog from the source. It clogs up my notifications and I really don’t like that.

Steal anything relating to Godric.

Tell me I am writing my characters wrong. Godric is almost solely headcanon based since there is basically nothing known about him in canon.

TRIGGERS

I don’t have any personally, but if you have any, feel free to tell me. I tend to tag it as “trigger tw,“ “trigger,” and “trigger //“ for you to block. I tag the usual things, NSFW, gore, blood, etc. but if you need something specific tagged, let me know and I will do my best.

MUN

What’s up, I’m Blossom, I’m nineteen, and I never fucking learned how to read. I am college student with a part-time job so I have a very busy life. I am hella shy and am very intimidated by others, so that’s probably why I haven’t talked to you first. Laura Marano is my face claim for any general ooc related responses. Thanks for reading my rules!

OTHER BLOGS

fairglenned - HP OC

inventivum - Cornelius "Lewis" Robinson

rvbatosis - Multi-Fandom OC Multi-Muse

allemor - MCU Frigga

#* pages !

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rotshop · 3 years

Note

*slams into your inbox* I just read through mag reader and Deimos headcanons again and I love it. I would def be interested in seeing more! (Also are you sure you don’t wanna hold his hand? Even just a little?) -Echo

gonna do a funney little mix of ideas here ,,,,, lol ,,,,,,,, also yes i am sure <333 i go 'hey check out this funny fish' and then i hold his head underwater.

[ tw brief, light violence, body horror and gore / blood ]

context

auditor + mag s/o ;

-OK OK HEAR ME OUT .

-you weren't originally an aahw project. while they're definitely the biggest company of sorts around there's still a few others that are like them but not exactly them hanging around nevada. you happened to be in some facility they decided to raid due to them having some possibly useful information regarding the anti-aahw . she's definitely a little less than enthused to get a call from her agents that she should come check this out but ,, when she lays her eyes on u that immediately melts away

-he's VERY very curious about you. keeps you close which is kind of nice bc it means you're treated pretty well but also it means a lot of being watched. audi just has like. a habit of unconsciously ''''''''studying'''''''' you. they're always noting little behaviors of yours down mentally and asking you little questions abut how you came to be and what abilities you hold.

-believe it or not he actually DOESN'T want you in fights. she knows you're incredibly capable but the thought of you getting too involved in a bunch of clawing and tearing again makes her get uneasy. she just prefers for you to stay by her side, with the excuse that you're a body guard of sorts for her (you aren't, she's got several other, more disposable mags that serve that role just fine.).

-HOWEVER. there is one time where he doesn't get an option in that. a few contractees and dissenters attempted a raid on the base audi was at, hoping to try and get some sort of bargaining chip to make deal with. before they can even really attempt to try and land some sort of hit on them you're already pouncing on the nearest grunt, blood already spurting and painting the walls red in mere seconds of your arrival. it honest to god shocks her into stillness, her just watching motionlessly the entire time, only really moving once to dodge some limb you'd mindlessly thrown her way after tearing it from its socket. WHILE SHE IS IMPRESSED ,,, she still scolds you a little for being reckless while trying to scrub the blood off of you with a wet rag, huffing that 'you could've gotten seriously hurt' if you were any less careful >:/

-however he does do the thng where he like. cups both sides of your face and then presses his forehead against yours. you have to lean down a lot for him to do so but still. sighs a little while brushing his thumb under your eyes and tells you to be more careful from now on.

-auditor is not immune to favoritism and it shows. someone brings it up (shakily, of course) and she just shrugs and goes 'idk what you're talking abt' while petting you who's got your head on her lap. said person promptly gets 'dismissed' after.

-hates whenever anyone tries to put some kind of muzzle on you, even if its just for the jaw dislocation thingy it still makes him go kind of '>:|' . he'll let them for like. a day at MOST (unless you keep trying to get it off, then chances are he's just gonna take it off for you. nobody really bothers asking / trying to get it back on you bc he just sends them a sharp little glare before they even can. if you REALLY need it that bad then he might try and convince you to keep it on a little longer or otherwise take your mind of it, he still feels really bad about it tho . )

sanford + mag s/o ;

- :)

-you two knew each other before he dissented / you became a mag. worked pretty close together and were just close in general !! you didn't know dei super super well since he worked in a different area but you two met a few times and hit it off pretty well.

-anyway ! he doesn't take your magnification well. at all. the first few times he saw you after it were the worst, mostly because those few times were primarily because you were lashing out at agents for one reason or another (mostly maltreatment from guards / people being shitty in general) . for the first while its so obvious that you're just exhausted from what's happened to your body that was NOT meant to become this, that you're tired and on edge from not being allowed any real rest. it makes him feel fucking terrible to see how awful of a state you're in and know that there's next to nothing he can really do to help.

-it especially hits him when he notices the other little changes. there's some specific moment where he's holding onto you far too tightly, clutching at the back of your jacket while he does his best to keep composed. you always had this habit of giving a half jokey hum of some stupid little joke or even just a 'what's wrong, big guy?' whenever he seemed off or tense, he can't help but make note of the lack of real response from you in the moment other than you wrapping your arms around him as well. another time, maybe he tries to make some little inside joke after something reminded him of it, looking back at you with a little smile. it hits him with a special punch to the gut when he notices your confusion, you just can't recognize it. you don't remember it anymore. you don't remember a lot of your old self or interactions anymore.

-you two end up getting split up at one point or another. orginally, he'd planned to run away with you and deimos buut,,, one way or another, you weren't really able to get out. he goes looking for you a bunch but eventually he has to stop when it gets to be too much and he can't find any real sign of you, he's quiet for a long time after it.

-HOWEVER . he does eventually find you in some abandoned warehouse him and the others had planned to look for supplies in. the entire time he's in there he keeps hearing sounds he thinks are just dei or hank but every time he asks or comments on it they just give him a look of confusion or a little 'what are you talking about?' it puts him really on edge, it's worse when he's in one of the further corners, digging through a few boxes and desperately trying to ignore how much it feels like someones there. anyway umm lol its just you ,,,, ehe . it takes him a solid minute to process that its you but as soon as it clicks he's yelling your name and running up to hug you. doesn't even stop to think that you could totally tear him a new one right then and there he's just too happy to see you. dei and hank both come rushing over after hearing him, dei recognizes you too and is just kinda 'oh hey !! friend !! :D' while hank stands there and just kinda stares.

-is able to take you back to base without too much argument from the others. he does his best to fill you in on everything that's happened in hopes you'll explained what happened on your part too. even if you don't he can't be too upset since he's just too gd happy to see you again ,,,, chances are you stick around him a lot . deimos is nice but u don't remember him super well and hank makes you uneasy lmao . its ok he thinks its funny though, just laughs a little whenever you stand in his doorway in silence until he notices you :)

#rot writes #sanford x reader #auditor x reader #madcom x reader #madness combat x reader #madcom imagines #madness combat imagines #echo anon #oughghghgh sleepy .......... snsnsnsnsnsnns

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