#quackity thirst

[fairytsuk1]

hips don't lie | (s)

pairing: alex quackity x reader

words: 2.5k

warnings: sexual content, drinking (of age), sexual dancing, mild voyeurism, mild public sex, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, pre-established relationship

summary: alex knows you think he's hot. when you're all out and about, the pressure builds till you both can't take it anymore.

The two of you dressed in tandem, slipping past each other to apply perfume and perfectly tie a tie. Still, neither of you could hide the longing glances at the silhouette of Alex's body or the whisper of promise accentuated by your curves. Alex watches you work through your make-up routine while he sits on the bed, already ready.

"Is–what's his name–going to be there? Roier?"

Alex stands and draws close to you, crowding your inner bubble and resting a chin on your shoulder, "yeah, but he'll probably be busy with Sabi. Did I tell you how good you look in this dress, hm?"

You have to remember that you have somewhere to be when you feel Alex's hands possessively glide down the bones of your hips, circling back to your ass and squeezing.

"You did, actually, when I bought it," you smirk at him through the mirror, clipping in an earring, "don't get handsy. We need to leave soon."

"I'm not getting handsy! I'm just appreciating your body. I mean, how could I not?"

Alex says it so genuinely, lips quirked up as he wraps his arms around you comfortingly. You know he means every compliment, every embrace, every little instance reminded you that he truly loved you. The two of you glance at each other before your lips are joined in a heated kiss that your boyfriend eagerly accepts. A dominant hand splays across your lower back, tugging you chest to chest; his free hand slips down and grabs a handful of your behind, "Alex!"

"Sorry," he cheekily laughs, pecking your lips softly once more, "let's get going."

He leaves your heart beating and thighs squeezing together most unfairly. He was so devastatingly attractive, with a demeanor that made you feel like a princess. Your lips twist into a pout while you punch his arm, "that's what I've been saying, actually!" 

"Oh, is that what you were saying?"

Your boyfriend's already grabbed his keys as wiggly fingers tickle your waist in the doorway. Alex feels his heart grow as you laugh, hair messily bouncing as your lifted lashes fluttered at him, "stop it! You're gonna ruin my hair, Lex."

He heeds your request, unlocking the front door to your shared apartment before pausing before you.

"Hey, I love you," he says.

The blush starts at your cheeks before encapsulating your head in flames. It's so mushy, brown eyes round like boba sparkling at you as he lets himself have a moment of vulnerability. Your hand comes to cup his cheek, and you feel as if you're precisely where you need to be, your thumb coming up just short of the mole under his eye.

"I love you too," and your empathetic eyes begin to well.

As in tune with you as always, Alex is quick to wave away tears by pulling you close into the warmth of his side.

"Don't cry! I didn't say that just for you to cry. Besides, how can you cry when we're having drinks tonight?"

Alex's ever-present excitement for drinking doesn't go unnoticed by you; it's enough to wipe a lone tear and peck his jaw, "nothing could ever stop me from drinking with you. I still watch that video of you doing karaoke that one time!"

"God, please don't talk about that! Ugh, I can't believe you still even have that. It's horrible! You have blackmail on your phone, literally."

Your conversation delves into nonsense, bantering and lightly ribbing each other the whole car ride. His hand, of course, stays on your thigh the entire ride.

-

You're a few drinks in and realize you severely underscored Alex's attractiveness that night as you took him in during a minute of group socialization. He'd been steadily killing it the whole night, a hand leading you from the small of your back and laughing with people as if he'd known everyone for years. It wasn't easy showing up as a streamer's plus one, but he knew how to make you feel accepted and relaxed.

Now, however, you're starting to get a bit needy after far too many glasses of red wine and a lingering hand on your inner thigh. Alex is faring even worse. It was as if the combination of alcohol with your high-libidos led to a fantastic product of pure lust. The two of you knew there wasn't a more inappropriate time to disappear to the bathrooms. Still, every look was supercharged with arousal and wanting. 

People from the QSMP crowd your table, infinitely singing praises at your boyfriend's table. Rafael, or Cellbit, says something about dancing, and your mind is plagued by thoughts echoing what you wanted to do most. You needed to show Alex how much you wanted him.

Alex beat you to the chase, "Let's go dance!"

"Okay," your skin is flushed from intoxication, and Alex's touch against your palm sends electricity up your spine.

It's a bit crowded moving to the dance floor, but soon, you find your own spot in the crowd where there's just enough breathing room for you and him to be face to face. It feels intimate, just slightly swaying together. Then, his hands are skimming the edge of your dress and sliding right up to your hips.

You lean in close, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear, "not too much PDA for you?"

"Not at all. I mean, it's better than ripping your clothes off and fucking you right here," his hands bring you so close that your hips are flush, "that's what I really wanna do to you right now."

A breath is caught in your throat as you discreetly sway with the group. His cock slowly begins to press against your thigh as he looks at you with pure need. There's no doubt your panties are soaked with arousal as you imagine how he'd feel, leaving bruises on the contours of your hips, pulling you back against his cock as you struggle to barely hold yourself up. 

"Alex, I want you so bad," you whisper into his ear, "and I can feel you. I wanna suck you off."

The fact you're speaking so lewdly with no one catching on makes both of your pulses quicken. Practically in the distance, the DJ changes the song, and you take the opportunity to use Alex's aroused shock to turn in his arms.

"Let's just go to the bathroom real quick and–"

"Let's just dance for a second, yeah?"

He doesn't even have the chance to rebuke you, too entranced by how you teasingly sway your hips against his now prominent bulge. To others, it just looks like an average couple having an intimate time; only God knows how much Alex is thinking of the softness of your cheeks that press into his thighs, the way your hips effortlessly tilt the same way you would be riding him at his desk. You act so nonchalantly like this, but he's the only one making you moan and whine while he sucks on your wet clit like a man starved.

You only tone down your seductive dancing when his hands wrap around your middle with no wiggle room. Alex holds you in place, and your eyes want to roll back in your head from the way he lightly presses your lower stomach against him. He always feels so massive behind you like this, like he's in total control of your body which makes your clit pulse.

"You can be so naughty sometimes, I'm so fucking hard in my pants now. It's all your fault, you know," he whispers hotly in your ear, "Why don't we go to the bathroom for a second, baby?"

"But I'm having fun dancing," you brattily reply, tilting your jaw up to stare at him through your lashes.

He gives you a plain look, and the submissive bone in your body leaves your legs shaking. 

"You could be having much more fun getting fucked by me, getting split open on my cock. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to," he drops the ultimatum, but the both of you already know your answer.

"Take me to the bathroom," you mumble, pressing against him.

Within moments, your boyfriend has come up with a lame excuse: "Yeah, she's feeling a bit sick!" The two of you are speedwalking to the private bathrooms and clicking the locks shut. Once safely secure, affirmed by the slide and click of the lock, Alex is quick to make work of your body and fiercely bring you into a makeout session with him.

It's hot, messy, it's so wet the way your lips collide against each other. The tension finally builds up and culminates in gliding your tongue against his as he works a knee between your legs. You knew you needed him, but your body was buzzing as his hands cupped your breasts roughly, "ah, fuck. I'm so horny."

"How do you think I feel," he groans, sucking a mark into your neck, "I feel like a teenager, about to come in my pants over your fucking grinding."

Alex's hand cups your jaw to bring your lips together again, tugging on the delicate skin as he drinks you in, "you're fucked up for that, you know?"

"I know, but you like being teased."

"I don't! I really don't," he mumbles, pulling off his suit jacket and hanging it on the door hook, "I should really get you back."

Your boyfriend says it as he manages to pull the cups of your bra down, freeing your chest from the confines of your chest. The cold, naked breeze leaves you aching to cover up, but Alex soothes your pebbling nipples with the warmth of his mouth and slick of his tongue. It feels too good, moans squeaking out of you as he tweaks and sucks at the puckering buds.

He always wants to make you feel good, which means learning everything that made you tick as he absolutely ravishes you. Your nipples were always so sensitive, your fingernails scratching his scalp like the pleasure was crawling out of you like a woman enchanted. 

"Yeah, babe? You like it when I play with your pretty tits?"

"Yeah, yes! The way you touch my nipples feels so good," your words come out, exhaled in pure relief, and it is a relief.

You needed his hands on your body, kneading plush skin and making you feel oh-so-good. Alex beckons you away from the door, lifting you up by your hips to seat you on the counter's edge. You're closer to his height now, and there's a brief moment of sweetness as you reconnect by standing flush against each other. He's fully hard now, desperate for you.

"I need you so bad, fuck," he sighs pleasedly.

Manicured hands unbutton the top buttons of his shirt, soaking in golden-tanned skin that gleams under the bathroom lights. Alex catches the sight of the two of you in the mirror, and his thighs shake with the empathetic rush of pleasure that courses through him just seeing the state of you two. Messy hair, make-up smudged, clothes absolutely and unmistakably disheveled. 

Neither of you could wait any longer, "wanna fuck you from behind. Turn around for me, please?"

Once you're entirely on display, you have a front-row view in the mirror as his hands glide over the curve in your lower back before reaching your cheeks and spreading them. Your creamy hole is fully on display, and Alex shushes you when you whine, "Don't stareee."

"Hush, just be patient for a second," he doesn't even take his eyes off your pussy, "I can't appreciate my girlfriend?"

You want to bite back sassily, but then the head of his dick catches on your clit, leaving your jaw-dropping in a dramatic display. The man behind you chuckles lightly, gliding the tip between your sticky folds to thoroughly coat his cock in your wetness, "what was that?"

"N-Nothing, just hurry up!"

Biting your lip, you try to jerk your hips back, but Alex's hand keeps your lower back firmly pinned to the counter, "I've been daydreaming about this since you got ready."

Alex gives you no chance to try and speak, plunging the tip in your pussy and stretching your thick walls. You know he's barely inside you, barely begun to dick you down. Still, you're already gutturally moaning, "Fuuuck… yes, lex–mmf!"

He gives you time to adjust, shallowly thrusting his hips with a hand on your hips. You're already trying to suck him in, and he's barely a few inches inside! It's heaven, and you can see the way his black hair cascades in his face as he slowly bullies his fat cock into you.

"God, fuck! You're taking me so well; this pussy is squeezing me so tight," he groans, eyes locking onto yours in the mirror as he starts to thrust earnestly, "Oh fuck yeah, take my cock, baby."

There's a loud 'pap' that echoes through the room as Alex works his hips into yours, steadily burying his cock deep into your folds and dicking you down expertly. The room grows hot and heady, the scent of sex permeating the air as Alex skillfully pounds you against the counter, "Talk to me, baby. Actually–fuuck. Look at me, babe."

Your hand grips the counter fiercely, but you can still look up to watch as Alex drags his dick through your walls over and over, "Filling me up so good–wanna cum so bad. I wanna be good–oh! Uh-huh, 'jus wanna be good for you."

Alex feels his balls constrict as you tighten around him, feet on tip-toes as you draw closer and closer to your orgasm. 

"Cum all over me, babe. Let me make you feel good, fuck yes. Just like that, honey."

All you can do is hold on as each thrust winds you up closer and closer until stars are bursting behind your eyelids. You cum with a cry of Alex's name, legs shaking as your pussy creams till there's a white ring around the base of his cock. The feeling of your gummy walls squeezing his dick and your words as you cry, "shit, Alex! Make me cum, oh god. I-I'm yours, fuuuck!"

He cums with a loud groan, hips slapping against your hips once, then twice as you feel him spurt his load against your pink inner walls. Your fluids mix together, spilling out of your hole and leaking down your thigh. The both of you fade in and out of existence, the power of your shared release leaving the two of you reeling as his cock softens inside you.

Your man stays inside of you until your breaths have calmed and come to a slow. He gently works his cock out of you, slowly pulling out as you hiss, "Shh, just stay here, babe. Let me get a towel."

"What time is it?"

A gentle hand comes between your legs to wipe up any excess mess. You jump as he swipes over your clit, an action that Alex giggles at.

"Definitely time to go."

The two of you stand side by side in the mirror, horrified. 

"My hair!"

"My dress! You totally screwed it all up!"

"Nuh-uh, that was all you, babe! Do you think everyone's gonna know?"

You would've said yes and promised that no one would know a single thing. But your eyes zero in on his lips' red, swollen state. The way his shirt is unbuttoned just enough to spot a red mark carding down his chest.

"Oh, babe… absolutely."

Alex whines, but you feel delighted.

[stonermujer]

Quackity valentines day headcannons??

Shower sex would go crazy. Being bent over and manhandled as he fucks you how he pleases. His cold chain grazing over your skin.

Or being woken up early in the morning with his leaking throbbing, cockhead pushing through your folds and sliding in.

Lots of chocolate and flowers fs. Like those big ass chocolate boxes with a bundle of all of your favorite flowers.

Cuddling all day and then getting ready for a nice dinner to end the day.

(Defo got your back blown out after)

[fireheartwraith]

Red winning a second day in a row proves that they've made a comeback from day 1 and that day 2 wasn't fluke, so I hope green goes after blood 🩷

[its-gjera]

Re-watching Jaiden and Roier's QSMP streams and I can't stop thinking about how fiercely Bobby loved Jaiden.

Bobby, the most violent and chaotic egg on the island, would behave like an absolute sweetheart whenever his mother was around. Toning down his thirst for action and chaos for her sake

Like how Bobby usually punches players so that they pay attention to his signs, all except for Jaiden.

From how he punched her once and immediately regretted it and apologized.

Taking out mobs that get even remotely close to her.

Bobby drawing his gun whenever anyone posed a threat to Jaiden (Such as when Quackity demanded to be taken to her) and even threatened Spreen after he stole some stuff from their home.

Pointing his gun at Mariana whenever he made fun of her (Jokingly of course)

Catching hummingbirds and gathering flowers for her.

Asking her if she was ok during the nightmares and constantly reassuring her that he was okay.

Teaching her Spanish and encouraging her to learn more.

Him being visibly excited whenever she logged on and jumping around her in circles whenever he sees her.

How he threw a small tantrum when Roier told him that she wouldn't be coming back for awhile.

Always helped her in whatever she needed.

Bobby would gladly fight anything and anyone as long as it meant his mom was safe. He loved his mamá so much

I miss our mama's boy so much...

[lowkeyrobin]

hiii can i ask for hcs of quackity and his s/o being it couple? like other ccs are constantly bringing them up and hyping them bcs they're giving couple goals, or just fans getting them to trend on social media all the time idkk sorry if weird

oooo okay!! ; and dw this wasn't weird at all! it's fine lol ; thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy 🫶

QUACKITY ; it couple

summary ; you and quackity, through your shared fanbases and friends, have become the online it couple of the month

warnings ; language

word count ; 379

y/s/n = your ship name

masterlist

the hype and popularity spiked again once the qsmp had a random popularity spike after korea was introduced into the smp

then quackity started trending on tik tok and then you did once you posted a new video with him on your channel

getting the jake webber / tara yummy / johnnie guilbert treatment 💀💀 tik toks couple of the month

"Hey, Alex, I think we're trending again!"

"We are, cause you're so beautiful, Y/n/n."

"Shut your goofy ass up"

anyways, your friends loveeee sending you both edits and fanart

especially ones that make you look so hot together and shit

the tik tok edits go crazy

a solid hour of tubbos tubbathon is just reacting to y/s/n edits

they also love hyping you two up

from fit checks to cute couple moments, they're always hyping you up 💯💯

"ayeeee go! go! shake that ass! QUACKITY SHAKE THAT ASS" ; from roier and foolish

niki, foolish and tommy are probably your biggest hype men, in comments or on stream LMAO

god forbid one of you mentions having a favorite song or shared song you like /pos

the edits AGAIN lmao

you dressed as aesthetics of music you listened to for a video but never addressed it on stream so again, the edits LMAO

so many of you to emo/punk music and so many of him to rap/hip-hop (take this with a grain of salt ok...)

anyways, insta posts and stories together>>>

Twitter white boy of the month? more like Twitter it couple of the month. fuck them

dude streamer awards 😨😨😨 /pos

yall looked so good. head to toe, you fucking KILLED. IT.

the fanfic writers have been inspired. the people who paused their fics are all back solely for a streamer awards chap bc yall were being a little wink wonk the whole time /ns

you were just being adorable in general

nevermind the vids u posted of karaoke in the car afterwards

so many edits of you and alex making like thirst traps LMFAOOOO

anything for the fans 🙏🙏🙏

then you publicize a playlist titled "hot stuff w Alex 💯💯" and the world BREAKS.

don't care don't care

mostly like hot girl motivation + banger songs from the 2000s

like rihanna, jay-z, plus some newer kinda stuff like victoria monet and 21 savage LMAO

anyways that's all I got idk I'm sick and have 0 braincells

[galatoma]

actually I will say that the lack of knowledge on one another is really fucking both tubbo and quackity over. because like, tubbo doesn't know quackity that well so he really does think quackity is capable of skinning someone, even though we as viewers know how cringefail he is, so tubbo is already thirsting for vengeance. as for quackity, he doesn't know how much of a thorn in the federation's side tubbo is and thinks he IS capable of being a traiter who helps the feds, and thus immediately treats tubbo with distrust and ire.

unfortunately, because theyre both allergic to talking to each other in ways that arent accusatory they might accidentally (or purposefully, in an act of revenge) be pushing each other into the very actions they already believe the other is doing

[slxtmeri]

𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

mcyt

i wont write/tolerate posts about scat, piss, vomit, or age play.

george

all posts have been removed. FUCK george not found, tons of love to caiti. support the victim, always.

sapnap

-

dream

thirst post - nsfw

thigh riding with dream

karl

virgin!karl headcanons - nsfw

quickies with karl, and after?

wilbur

all posts have been removed. FUCK wilbur soot, tons of love to shubble. support the victim, always.

quackity (sfw + suggestive only, no smut)

bf!quackity hcs (req)

bf!quackity hcs pt.2 (req)

quackity with a clingy s/o hcs (req)

quackity with an s/o who has adhd (req)

charlie slimecicle

chuckle sandwich members after a long trip - sfw & nsfw headcanons

schlatt

ask to @bvnnyblood - edging + overstimming during oral

nsfw schlatt hcs

jealousy - nsfw fic

housewife for schlatt headcanons - sfw & nsfw

housewife smutshot - coming soon

chuckle sandwich members after a long trip - sfw & nsfw headcanons

pegging schlatt - nsfw

schlatt when you're on your period- sfw

ted nivison

period hcs - sfw & nsfw

soft dom ted headcanons - sfw & nsfw

chuckle sandwich members after a long trip - sfw & nsfw headcanons

ted with a oral fixation - nsfw

several?

beach day - punz + foolish x reader smut

chuckle sandwich members after a long trip - sfw & nsfw headcanons

[yumejoshi1]

Quackity: "So I woke up today and I was thirsty, so I got up to get a glass of water...nothing...so I got another glass of water...nothing, and another one, nothing. Then I realized, I have thirst of ✨BLOOD ✨

(Please remind this man gets two hitted by flies)

[bigboobyhalo]

q!quackity will post a thirst-trap selfie captioned “who want me” and gets absolutely zero interactions, no likes no replies nothing at all. maybe like one pqrt. meanwhile q!BBH will post a casual selfie of him next to like a kind of weird-looking tree captioned “look how weird this tree is O_o” and get hundreds of likes and tons of over-enthusiastic replies saying how that tree really is SO weird and he’s sooo smart and handsome for pointing it out and wow he should be like a tree scientist or something because of how smart and also pretty he is

[fairytsuk1]

sitting your pretty ass self on alexis’ cock while he’s on a call with someone who is live 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

teasing alex on a call ...

alex laughs boisterously across the hall and you smile automatically. even just knowing he was around made your heart stammer in your chest. it wasn't just that, though; you saw him before the stream, and he looked more than good. actually, he looked incredible.

he had donned his typical black and gray beanie that left black wispies flying out from under it. it's even better as his gold chain revealed a black t-shirt hanging low on his chest. was it getting hot?

"i'm gonna go live," he pecks your cheek, "be done soon!"

but that was hours ago! and the more you thought, the more you remembered how good it felt to run your nails across his scalp. to feel his hands pull you closer to his chest...

your feet were already taking you down the hall. before you knew it, your phone was abandoned on the kitchen counter. alex is calm when you slide into the room. his eyes lock onto yours for a split second before he's cursing back into the mic. then, "hey babe, what's up? i'm still live!"

he doesn't let his surprise show as you plop into his lap, "i know! been watching."

alex takes a moment to make a quick joke, but thankfully everyone else is too distracted with their chats to notice how his breath hitches. how he slams the "MUTE" button to snake his hands under the cotton of your tank top.

"babeee," he sighs as you scooch even closer, rolls your hips just a bit harder.

"shhh, i think someone's saying something to you, alex."

alex struggles to tear his eyes away from yours. you urge him with your hand to the mic and he throat bobs, "i-i'm here! i was just too busy playing the game!"

your hand palms him slowly and teasingly. his voice cracks slightly in the mic, and he's pushing his hips up into your hand. it's so sexy to feel him harden under your silken touch. the way he fills out his sweatpants is absolutely intoxicating, "fuck, go under please..."

he whispers into your ear with a demanding voice but you smirk.

"hush, just let me fuck you, yeah?"

the raw dominance in your voice sends a shiver down his spine. you listen, spit slicked hand wrapping around his thick cock. alex keens, fingers gripping the arm handle with a ferocious grip as he tries to keep himself under control, "fuck, okay, okay. please fuck me, shit...!"

"you're still live, and sounds like your friends are getting impatient, honey."

"th-they don't care, they'll think I left," and your hand twists around his leaking tip, "oh! oh my god."

"talk to them, baby."

"c-can't," he mumbles.

"talk to them. do your job," you suck a dark mark on his neck while pulling him out, "you can do it, baby."

his voice is shaky as he nods, eagerly watching a stream of spit dribble from your tongue to coat his dick. it feels so intimate the way you slowly stroke him with a wet click.

you know it's killing him. he throbs in your hand and his voice is more meek, more far-away, "sorry, i'm just a little--"

you struggle holding back your moan when you sink down onto him. your teeth sink into the juncture of his neck as he stretches your dripping pussy out. you've taken him so many times that's so easy, but you always feel the stretch of his girth when you take him for the first time.

"--a little tired!"

alex squeaks out and you can't help your quiet giggle when you plop yourself down in his lap. again, then again, and soon his desk chair is squeaking lewdly.

"fuck me, yes! feels so good. your pussy feels too good," he buries his face into your chest, clinging to you like a bear, "fuck, mami. you're so dirty, riding me while i'm live?"

" i already know you like it," you wheeze, hand ripping off his beanie to tug him by his hair into a lip-lock, "already know you love fucking me, fuckk! oh fuck, stretching me out so well."

it's so lewd how you can hear the boisterous laughs of his friends, the fighting and the jokes; all at the same time you fuck yourself silly on your boyfriend's cock and he practically drools over your tight, wet walls squeezing him.

"i'm gonna cum, oh shit! babe, w-wait," he tries to stop your desperate hips or clenched thighs but it's no use.

"wanna feel you fill me up, need it. needed you so bad, fuck, alexx!"

and you vaguely hear voices calling out to alex among your own. he's so close, balls tightening and mind hazy. he can barely breath as his lungs constrict.

"'m so close, baby. cum in me, need to feel you breed me," you wheeze, "please, alex!"

alex cums in hot white ropes. you feel him paint the inside of your walls and you nearly spasm from pleasure. it's so hot and your teeth tug his bottom lip hard enough to taste copper. your orgasm washes over you in a huge wave that leaves your every limb shaking. neither of you can even speak as the stream falls on dead ears.

it takes a moment to remember to take a deep inhale. your mixed releases spill down your thigh and leave messy droplets on his sweatpants. alex himself is no better, lips agape with eyes closed.

alex's eyes meet yours looking like swirls of honey. you know he's feeling vulnerable, feeling sensitive. your hand cards down his face and you leave soft pecks on his freckles.

"that was... baby, that was insane."

"i know, baby boy. you did so good for me. i fucking love fucking you."

alex giggles a shy laugh into your cleavage. another person calls out to alex, and finally he's regathered enough energy to sit up and unmute.

"yeah, i gotta go! yeah, yeah, i'm fine. i just," he pauses, "i just had to take care of something for a sec."

[mikaikaika]

In typical fashion, Quackity logged in, was almost dying from thirst, ran around tying to steal water, and then fell in a lava pit and died in a cringefail manner

[faehrys]

foolish just… is dtkqs y/n like dream invites him to the dsmp then a while later he becomes closer with everyone and quackity keeps trying to kiss him and when they meet up he gives him a rose and films him sleeping and he becomes best friends with karl to the point that karl convinces him to move to his city then sapnap moves in the same house with him and for some reason george is always mean to him but secretly watches his thirst edits on tik tok oh this is perfect

[sardonic-the-writer]

—the red festival

SUMMARY | the day that november sixteenth became known as the red festival in history books was the day you watch your life crumble to the ground

PAIRING | various x reader

REQUESTED | no

WORD COUNT | 10k+ words

WARNINGS | gore, death, explosions, november the 16th, etc

AUTHORS NOTES | no use of pronouns but characters use nicknames of various types. toots, mamacita, dude, etc. i've really missed just going over lore and torturing c!characters

🧨 Masterlist 🧨 Navigation 🧨 Rules 🧨

In this world, everyone was a drunk.

It didn't have to be alcohol that got them there—though in some cases, that was just it. No. In this world, you had seen people be driven to the edge by a variety of things that wasn't just a bottle of scotch. A pair of discs could do it. The feeling of blood dripping down a sword. Deep rooted ambition to be the ruler of nationwide kingdoms. A thirst for pride. Separated they seem so different. But put them together and it was all the same thing—sinners after their sin, blindsided by their own passion.

You hated that word. Passion.

The emotion was a dangerous thing. Almost entirely akin to fire in ways. A small flame was hopeful, but infective. Hardly able to do anything. However, with just the right amount of it, as long as it stayed reasonably contained, you could do amazing things. Shape the earth, sway the people, change the very rules to the game. But too much, and everything burns. Burns until all that's left is ash and charred bones.

Your bones had been burned enough to where you tried not to make those mistakes.

Dead eyes and a pair of nervously pursed lips stared back at you through the cracked mirror on your wall. Fingers nimbly adjusted the tie around your neck, hiding the slight tremor in them.

Schlatt—the leader of Manburg, your president—had required you to wear a suit to this evening festive. The order extended to all the cabinet members, even the vice president. He had requested the handywork of the beat tailor around. A woman named Puffy, who had been as kind as can be to you during the brief fitting that was required.

The suit and its accessories were all entirely red, different shades of the hue donning you from head to toe—ranging from ruby and rose to a deep crimson. When asked about the peculiar color scheme, Schlatt had given some sort of faint response about him not being upstaged as the only one in all black. To remind the people who was really in charge. You hadn't pressed anymore, just taking the suit and returning to your room until the next cabinet meeting.

It was where you stood now, a day later. Staring at yourself while tying the final knot on your tie, grimacing as you made the connection between it and a noose at that moment.

A hollow knock made itself at home on the surface of your mahogany door. You swiftly crossed the room to crack it open, expecting a disgruntled Schlatt to be staring you down. But you found a slightly shorter man instead, the feeling in your chest loosening as you saw the familiar blue beanie.

"Ready?" Quackity asked you, a slight dull in his otherwise bright eyes. He looked very uncomfortable right now in his suit and bow tie. The only clue that this was still the Quackity that sang songs about dicks on his wooden guitar to you was the lapis cap resting on his raven locks. And even that was out of place. It was a wonder in itself how he had managed to convince Schlatt to let him keep it included in his outfit.

You couldn't help but wonder if you looked as alien as he did in your own garb. You pushed the anxious thought down with a swallow, the effort of it harder than it had been a moment ago.

"Hey Big Q. Is he getting pissy? Are we running late?" His name didn't even need to be said. You both understood the message.

A quick glance on the clock at his wrist confirmed your suspicions as Quackity nodded, smiling shakily at you.

"Si. Last I saw, he had been downing another bottle. Scotch this time. I remember what happened last time he drank that, so I figured I'd busy myself and come get you." Quackity held his arm out to you as an offering as he spoke. You took it, closing your room door behind you as you both began to walk down the spacious hallways leading away from it.

"Ready to beat some ass?"

You shot a confused look at him before breaking out into short laughter. He had always been able to coax the sound out of you—a growing feat, considering the events of this past year. Perks of making genuine friends in a shitty position you suppose.

"Seriously? In the middle of everything, all you can think about is that little boxing event?" You chuckled as Quackitys grip on your arm tightened around you, bringing you closer to his side as he spread his other arm out dramatically. He mirrored your brief excitement, looking down at you with a toothy smile.

"I've been waiting a whole year to kick some ass man! Show everyone I'm not some useless nobody that's only around because of their pretty face. Or whatever else Schlatt says about me." The last part was more of a bitter mumble, the stench that surrounded the ram hybrids name dampening the mood.

"Hey." You knocked a fist into his shoulder softly, attempting to cheer yourself up as well as him. "I'll be rooting for you. If you want, I can bet on you. A million to one odds you get beaten, I reckon. Ducks can be pretty mean when they want to." The last part was a poor joke, but Quackity still smiled at it nonetheless, the soft yellow wings on his back twitching subconsciously at the mention of them.

"Don't bet everything, mamacita. After all. The Blade is going to make an appearance." He scratched at the back of his neck anxiously, releasing your arm from his own as you both noticed you were at the end of the lengthy hallway. Now all was left was to open the giant doors, gates were a better word for them to be honest, and step out into the sunlight.

"I remember." Your voice sobered up as a flash of pink and red crossed your mind, the memory of a golden crown and a piglin skull surfacing.

"Are you sure this plan will work?"

You were both speaking in whispers now. Quackity's hand was placed on the handle of the doors in front of you, and your knees were locked in place; the both of you ready to bolt. It was a dangerous thing to even think about these kinds of things within the capitol of Manburg, much less say it out loud. You quite liked your head on the top of your shoulders and didn't plan to have it chopped off anytime soon after all.

"I trust Tommy. If he's sure this will work, then it will." You barely whispered. Quackity frowned at your sentence, looking into your eyes as if he was searching for something. But if he found what he was looking for, he didn't say anything.

His eyes dropped to the floor as he sighed, eyes closing.

"This needs to work." His grip on the doors handle tightened to the point where his knuckles were white. Your own hands formed fists at your side, nails leaving marks in your skin. "This has to. I can't keep doing this dude. I'll go insane."

"Yeah. Me too Big Q."

And with one final look between the two of you, gazes somber and heavy as the air before a storm, the doors opened. And you went to greet the people of your nation.

The screams of the crowd around you were like those of a wild animal.

You sat in one of the many front rows, posture still as it could get. Your mouth was drawn into a thin line, watching—what had Schlatt called it, the pre-entertainment? —as one of your only friends and the president of this damned national circled each other like vultures.

Quackity looked like he wanted blood. You didn't let the smile on his face fool you for one minute: after all he had gotten quite good at faking those. From the moment he had stepped into the makeshift boxing ring, he looked like he wanted to rip Schlatts heart out. Rip it out, roast it over a fire, and fucking eat it.

Schlatt on the other hand was unreadable. All the gaudy jewelry he was always seen wearing was still on. Chains of gold and silver dangling from the sharp tips of his horns. Rings glinting with the little blood that had been shed from the fight. The smile on his face outshone the glimmer coming from them though.

He looked, well, happy to be beating the shit out of someone. Anyone. Although you hadn't expected anything else from the very man that had exiled two completely innocent people.

As a drinking cup flew past your head in the direction of the ring, just missing its mark, you had a brief thought. Wondering if the true animals were in the ring right in front of you, or gathered in the crowd you sat in so silently. The very notation that it was either made your skin crawl.

"Pretty cringe if ya ask me."

If your back could have straightened up anymore, it would have. Instead, you were left with a wide eyed expression, looking over to your left to be met with a grinning man twice your size, twin pink braids resting against his extravagant red cape.

You could barely force a sentence out.

"Yeah." You coughed lightly. "L plus ratio and all that."

The infamous Technoblade had always been an enigma to you. Depending on who you asked, you were either extremely lucky or extremely unlucky to have the weird bond you did with him. It wasn't friendship—far from it. You knew he didn't really do friendship. It was more so a strong understanding. That neither of you were to overstep on the other. To take advantage. And while that rule was mostly in place for you, because you both knew if Techno wanted to he could take everything you hold dear in a heartbeat, it worked just fine. Still. That didn't stop you from getting a little anxious around the widely dubbed Blood God.

For fucks sake. That sword at his hip looked sharp enough to cut pure netherite in half.

Techno snorted at your equally as dry response, leaning his head down to rest it in the palm of one of his hands as his eyes watched the still ongoing fight.

"Yuuup. They asked me if I wanted to try a round in there with one of em." He shook his head for a moment, and you understood why. The thought of him versus anyone you could think of was almost laughable. "I turned em down 'course. Didn't feel like stirrin up trouble before the festival."

You were just going to have to get used to speaking in code today, apparently. Technos sentence didn't carry a lot of weight for anyone but you. But maybe it was the way his red eyes were now trained on you that had you mindlessly shuffling in your seat.

"Damn. And to think I didn't bet on Quackity winning all of them just because I knew you were coming."

He laughed at that again, his baritone tone. overpowering your own.

"Saved yourself some money. Would've been nice for clout though. Always need clout."

"Yeah. Clout." You echoed back.

"So." Techno drummed his fingers on the edge of his knee, still looking at you through the stark white holes in his skull mask. "Everythin' ready for me?"

Ready for you? You wanted to say. You mean ready for the murder of a tyrant? Ready for quite possibly the very thing that could bring everything we've worked for down in one ugly swoop?

"Yeah. It's ready."

He nodded with understanding. For a moment, his hand reached out near your back like he wanted to pat it, but he stopped at the last second, awkwardly returning it to his side as he stood up stiffly.

"Gonna go check out the dunk tank." Techno cleared his throat. "If you see Fundy wandering around soaking wet later, you know where I was."

He didn't waste another second standing in between the mass of warm bodies, slipping away without so much as another look at anyone as far as you could tell. His ability to leave without even being seen was beyond you. Today, that would be crucial.

You didn't linger much longer either. After Schlatt pulled out an axe, calling over to Quackity that it was over for him, you left the area with a sympathetic look to your friend. Both of you knew Schlatt wouldn't do anything too brash in the eyes of the public. And while you guessed he didn't consider banishment three minutes after winning an election brash, outward murder was up there on his barely existent no-no list.

It was enough to drive you away from the arena at the very least.

"—ou can do th–"

"—ome on don't be a pussy Tub–"

"—you've got this."

Your aimless wandering found a target as a voice from your left drifted your way. Either the alleyway it was coming from had become sentient and named itself Tub, or a familiar brunet was pacing around it talking to himself.

You thought the latter.

Sure enough, the moment you got far enough down the dingey hallway, you spotted Tubbo in his own red suit. The ends of his coat sleeves were already fraying despite the tough material, and you didn't have to look long to find out the source of it. You remembered he had used to do the same thing to his old L'Manburg uniform; pulling at loose threads until Wilbur would take him aside and sew it back together with the few supplies they had, softy scorning him all the way.

You had a feeling Wilbur wouldn't be doing anything of the sort these days.

"Hey Tubs."

The kid in front of you jumped at your sudden appearance, quickly whirling around to face you with as serious of an expression that he could muster. Your attention was drawn to the small bumps on the top of his head—horns, you had come to realize over the course of their appearance—before flicking back down to his green eyes.

"Is something wrong? Did they find out? Is Tommy okay?"

The whirlwind of questions tumbled out of his mouth shakily. For a moment you felt like facepalming yourself. Of course he was going to assume the worst. You had just walked in on his nervous pacing with the leftovers of a somber expression on your face, curtosy of Schlatt and his diamond axe.

"Yes bossman, everything's alright. Trust me. I just heard you an wanted to make sure you weren't losing your mind." Your weak attempt to do damage control worked, watching as your words doused the nerve educed wildfire behind Tubbo's gaze.

It hurt you to see him like this. Not just because he was worried about things he shouldn't even be involved in, although that was true. It was rather that he was simply here. With a stupid fucking uniform on and what seems like the weight of the world, or at least a very populated nation, on his shoulders. You had seen men, even kings and queens twice his age, collapse under the threat of the very same thing.

If there was one thing you wanted to do today, it was to get him out of here. Back with Tommy. Where he belonged.

"It's going to be okay right?" One of his fluffy ears, a product of his hybrid genes, flicked down slightly in questioning. The way he looked at you, like you had all the answers in the world, made you believe for just a moment, that you did. That everything really would be okay. That come tomorrow morning he, and maybe even you, would be far far away from here.

Then you looked down at his trembling hands before being thrown out of your fantasy.

"Believe me Tubbo. The biggest battle you're facing right now if the one with your own mind." You smiled the biggest you could for him, dodging the question entirely as you went to muss up his hair. He responded with a playfully whine, lightly swatting at your hands with his tounge out until you stopped.

"Now come on. If you're lucky you can see if Niki's still selling pastries before our speeches."

That certainly got him going. You had to bark out a laugh as you tripped over your own two feet with the effort of trying to keep up with him as he bolted out of the alleyway, smiling.

Luckily Niki had still been selling some of her cooking, although all that had been left was a few slices of red velvet cake. The lady had given it to both you and Tubbo for free despite your stern orders not to do that, ushering you away with the excuse that your speeches were to begin soon to get out of you paying.

"Alright." You did a quick check offstage after waving Niki goodbye as she went to her seat, now speaking to Tubbo and Quackity, who had arrived with a bloody nose and triumphant grin. Apparently haven beaten Schlatt at least once during his boxing spree.

"Notecards?" You fixed Tubbo with an expecting gaze as he patted his suit pocket for security. For a moment you thought of mentioning the red cake dusted around his mouth but thought better of it.

"Check!"

"Strange lettuce metaphor?"

"Check!"

"False loyalty for Manburg?"

"Check."

"And our hype man?" You turned to Quackity, who was already looking at you smugly with a pair of finger guns.

"Right here mamacita!"

Tubbo's brows furrowed for a moment.

"Mamacita? What does that mean?"

You felt your neck flush as Quackity looked at you before bursting out into laughter, embarrassment flooding through your veins.

"Don't worry about it Tubs." You grumbled, face flaming as you jabbed Quackity in the ribs so hard he gasped.

"Ay ay! Easy on the goods!" He giggled. "Besides, I could call you a whooole lot worse than mamacita."

"He sure could."

Just like that your shoulders tensed and feet set themself at a center. Tubbo and Quackity followed suit, watching as you cleared your throat to address the newly arrived president.

"Schlatt." You nodded with as much respect that you could muster right now. The smell of booze and smoke didn't miss your calculated senses as the goat man sneered—or was that a grin?—in your direction.

"Mr. President." He corrected you for the millionth time since you had started working under him.

"Mr. Schlatt then." And like always, you met his demand halfway, taking nervous pleasure in the way his eyes narrowed every time you tested his patience.

He grumbled but did nothing more. Simply making his way over to Quackity's side and throwing an arm over his vice president harshly. As always, he looked all but mildly interested. Like all this was underneath him. It was strange really, how much he claimed to despise Wilbur. They were both so alike in the end. Both businessmen with ambitions that reached for the stars. Both mortals who held them at the position of a god. Both atomic bombs with an expiration date that refused to acknowledge that fact.

"I hope you pussies are ready to wow everyone." He cackled gleefully; eyes unblinking as his cold gaze fell to your own. "Blow them away, even."

"Yeah well—" Quackity pried himself away from Schlatt, although didn't stray far at the glare he was sent. "—we just need you to get it started. Everyone is waiting for you."

Schlatt just rolled his eyes. "Sure. Send your fucking boss away why don't you, Flatty Patty?"

Much to you and the others relief however he dragged himself away toward the stage steps, checking his appearance out in the reflection of the black tarp like curtains that drapped around all sides of the stage: save the front.

It was all you could do now to not grab Tubbos arm and run in the opposite direction. You had made too many promises to do that though. You weren't going to ruin it all by running away now. And you were most certantly not about to abandon her. L'Manburg meant too much to too many people, yourself included.

You listened to the screeching feedback of a mic as Schlatt stepped onto the stage and into the veiw of hundreds of people, tapping the microphone to make sure it worked.

"Uh, hello everybody!" The tumultuous roar of applause that greeted his words was like a splash of poison to you. "And welcome to the festival of Manberg! Manberg’s festival!"

From your stance you could see the orange form of Fundy jumping up and down not too far away from you, hat going slightly askew as he yelled his praises.

Quackity joined in, faking an excited giggle just loud enough for the mic nearby to pick up.

"Yes sir!! Yes sir!" He glanced at you as a reminder, and you plastered a perfect PR smile across your face at the look. It was all about keeping up appearances to the very end after all.

"Awesome!" Schlatt grinned. "I’ve invited all the citizens of Manberg and some very close friends of mine to enjoy the festivities that have—that this, uh, nation—something—I don’t know."

"Yeah, the thing!"

"Basically, I just wanted to throw a party! You guys know me—" The whistles and shouts of the crowd didn't stop even at his lackluster speech, only growing. "—I'm a nice guy! I enjoy a good party, y’know? So, uh, I decided to put one together for you all."

There goes Fundy again, his tail wagging with anticipation as he looked up at Schlatt like he was his savior. You remembered a time when he had looked at Wilbur like that too.

Come to think of it, so had you. At least until those frantically written letters from Tommy had started to come by crow in the dead of night.

"So we could all partake in this—in this beautiful count—in the f—in the fruits of this beautiful country!" Schlatt hiccupped.

"I'm going to be honest ladies and gentlemen. Let's get all the boring shit out of the way. None of you came here for the politics or the government stuff, although maybe Techno did—" His malicious joke fell flat as he singled out the warrior; whom of which was easy to spot as all the seats in the crowd surrounding him were empty, people too afraid to sit near him. He simply offered a short and awkward laugh, fiddling with one of his many weapons. Seemingly to pass time.

"—so let's get all that out of the way with some speeches? Yeah? A bit off schedule but who the fuck cares am I right!"

With the way everyone shouted their approval to him, you had no doubt that they would agree with everything he said in that moment. You would be lying if you didn't say that the thought made you sick to your stomach.

"Now let's get our lovely Secretary of State up here!" Schlatts voice boomed. It was nearly impossible to miss your cue as the words wrapped you in a tight squeeze, expelling all the air from your lung like a boa constrictor. Or maybe that feeling spawned from the way Schlatt was looking at you, blood red eyes dragging over your face with a sudden soberness.

Wooden steps creaked under your weight as you climbed the few stairs it took to get on stage. Instead of meeting the crowds prying eyes, you stared straight at Schlatt. Who you found had, again, already been looking at you with a self satisfied smirk.

His fingers brushed yours as he handed over the mic, leaving prickly feeling like thorns in their wake. One of his hands went to cover the mic as he bent down to whisper in your ear, lips pulled into a cruel smile that could seem genuine from afar.

"Fuck this up—" He hissed through clenched teeth. "—slander my name—" His grip on your shoulder tightened without you knowing it had even been there in the first place. "—even so much as think of mentioning your little friends on the rooftops of my city—" He pulled back to look you in the eyes. To watch as they drained of any hope you had garnered before stepping out into the open. "—and I kill everyone."

Then he left.

Was this the feeling Daedalus had consume him as he watched his son die? As he watched the boy who flew too close to the sun fall through the bitter winds and delve into the unforgiving sea that would become his grave?

It sure seemed like it.

"Hello, fair and prosperous members of Manburg." You settled for rotating eye contact between the only pink haired members of the crowd, refusing to look at anyone else but Techno and Niki as cold dread set in.

"It has been a challenge, working for this nation." Some whispers followed your words, no doubt speaking on the fact that you were one of the original founders of L'Manburg, and there for your word was the be scrutinized. "But it has been a privilege."

You watched from your pedestal as Techno raised an eyebrow slowly in your direction. Your speech was beginning to sound more and more like a death sentence and less of a political declaration. Although, hadn't Schlatt made it that way the second he revealed the knowledge of your plans? And hadn't you set it in motion the second you mistook him for a foolish drunkard, unable of sniffing out what you had been planning.

"Your leader—my leader—JSchlatt has done a great deal for this nation. Tearing down our countries ensnaring cage—" Your shaking hand extended to present the sight of the lack of obsidian walls, earning a few murmurs of appreciation in the process.

"He has turned us into a self-reliant nation, dependent on no one but ourselves." You swallowed as you thought of what you were supposed to say next. No, it wasn't what you had planned last night hunched over your desk, still believing you had a chance to get out of here with your friends; but rather what Schlatt had laid out for you moments ago. A choice.

Shall you die a rebel? Going out in flames with your friends, never to be resurrected again? Or would you live a reluctant traitor? Turned away by the only people who you knew still cared, and taunted by your enemy?

One last look at Schlatt was enough to make up your mind. And he knew it, spreading his lips into a shit eating grin that stretched ear to ear.

"And because of these new developments in our economy, I have come to realize the truth. That I, one of the cofounders of this land, hereby renounce all notions of the dead nation of L'Manburg—" You heard gasps ring from the crowd like an executioner announcing your fate. "—and pledge myself to the great Manburg!"

You finally saw what Schlatt had been talking about the moment those words left your lips. Two cloaked figures, one much taller than the other, stood on the top of a nearby building. Only one of them had their hood down, the expressionless face of Wilbur Soot—a madman living in the shell of what had once been your most trusted friend—staring you down without a word.

One look at the crowd below you told you all you needed to know. Nikis face was stained with angry tears, Fundy looking at you with an expression similar to the one someone would make after being slapped in the face. Even Techno was gone. Come to think of it, he had been gone for a while now, surely driven away by your betrayal, even if it was fake.

And as the cold hand of the devil rested itself upon your right shoulder, maniacal laughter spilling from his lips, you heard the words that would take your second life.

"I really didn't expect you to go that far toots" Schlatt snickered, not even caring that the microphone was picking up his every word. The nickname he adorned you with made you snarl, earning a laugh from him "Really a nice effort to keep your friends alive. Can't say the same for you though. Techno? You can come on out now big guy."

You pinpointed the exact moment your heart dropped to your toes as the Blood God appeared out of thin air, a crossbow pointed straight between your eyes. A few particles, no more visible than the smoke from a hot mug of tea, rolled off his shoulders and arms in waves. An invisibility potion then. A damn good one too from the looks of it.

"Oh." You spoke with surprising calmness, voice soft. "Thats where you went."

"Sorry." He rumbled out an apology, shrugging like he was discussing what to have for dinner with you and not preparing to shoot you point blank "He offered me more money. And blood."

"I really wouldn't try running if I were you by the way. Heard this guy can kill anything from over a mile away with just a rock." Schlatt patted Techno on the back with a twisted sort of pride—like a hunter displaying a trophy—and you watched as the pinkette stiffened. None of the friendliness he always showed you anytime you would happen to cross his path. Just the dead eyes of a mercenary with a job to do.

"Any last words, oh dear secretary of state?" Schlatt clapped his hands together with a sickly sweet smile, canine's sharper than ever as he looked down on you.

You took a breath.

"Wilb—"

"Too late!"

And then your world exploded in stars of red, white and blue.

You really hoped no one would ask you what being dead felt like.

That would be a real pain in the ass to talk through.

The closest you could get to describing it was silence. Not just in the normal sense. Although that were true as well. Nothing made a noise in the black surrounding you had found yourself encased in. One could speculate that it might be the darkness of a coffin, your dead body buried in it for all eternity. But you immediately knew that wasn't true. The soupy expanse before you stretched out for miles and miles in each direction. You didn't know how you knew that, you just did.

You had been here once before. When you were but a mere five years old. The time in your life for chasing balls down the street into traffic and scaling trees as high as your mother would let you. Ironically it had been neither of those things that had gotten you killed. Rather, it was the prick of a rusty nail from your banged up red wagon you had loved at the time. You hadn't known it then, but from that point on, it would take a week for you to die painfully, your body failing prey under the hands of tetanus.

Maybe if you had known what was to become of your future, what was to become your very destiny, then you wouldn't have waisted one of your lives on a stupid fucking wagon.

It wasn't long before that serine silence was broken with the muffled sounds of yelling. If you stretched your ears hard enough, you could barely make out the sounds of explosions. Screaming, pleading. You couldn't tell if they were echos of your last moments, or simply the aftermath of it. Both seemed plausible in that moment as you laid there, floating everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

"—ind our way."

"—xplain to them–"

"—uck off bitc–"

It was fitting that the last sense to come back to you was sight. After all, you had been killed with a shot from a crossbow no less than two inches from your eyes, the ammunition consisting of some stupidly over powered fireworks.

But it did come back. And wherever you were certainly wasn't your bed—the spawn point that had been set ages ago within the walls of L'Maburg turned Manburg. That was evident enough with the way a sky full of colors blazed overhead, smoke purging its normally beautiful hue.

"Hey. Hey! Holy fucking shit balls! Their awake!"

There was only one person that thick accent and crude language could belong too, and you had been long overdue for a visit with him.

Your vocal cords strained for a syllable to grasp onto, failing pathetically as a weak zombie like groan fell from your lips.

"Bruhh. They just died and are already tryin' to try hard life again." A vice directly in your ear chuckled, and you couldnt stop the feeling of dread as you pinpointed who it was.

"Woah, hey. Calm down man. I'm not gonna hurt you or anythin'." Technos grip around you tightened as he kept you from wiggling out of his arms. You heard Tommys loud protests for him to stop manhandling you and eventually Techno sighed, releasing you from the bridal position he had you in—presumably because you had been dead moments ago and weren't really able to walk on your own.

Of course, your legs gave out almost immediately. Against your better judgment, you grabbed onto Techno's plush red cape to steady yourself, drawing a grunt from him as he was jerked back slightly at your added weight.

"Go—" You panted with the effort of speaking, feeling like you could down an entire gallon of water right now. "—fuck yourself Technoblade."

"Yeah, okay I deserve that."

"Holy shit!" Both of your attentions turned to Tommy as he stared at your wobbly figure with his jaw open.

Techno silently asked permission to rest hand on your shoulder, and when you shot a scathing glare his way be backed off, although keeping a close enough distance for you to grab onto his cape.

"Hey Tommathy." You sounded awful and everyone knew it. The words coming out of your mouth were less like words and more like nails on a chalkboard. Not fingernails, literal nails. Like the ones you hammered into coffins.

Okay. Not the best analogy at the moment.

"Here, take this." Tommy patted his pockets for a moment before looking at Techno with a small grin, laughing nervously. The taller man just grumbled something inaudible, rummaging in his own pockets for a moment before bringing out something and beginning to hand it to you.

"Wait no I want to give it to them!"

Techno paused and you could almost hear him rolling his eyes with a small smile as he tossed it over to Tommy, who then proceeded to proudly march what you now knew was a bottle of water over to you.

You heard Techno sigh as he watched you spectate the glass of clear liquid. You didn't care. Let the pink bastard be annoyed. You were allowed some suspicion. He had just killed you after all.

"You don't think that if I wanted to kill you again—" Again. There it was. "—that I would have done it already?"

"Yeah well to be fair, I don't really give shit." You popped the cap with one of your thumbs before tilting your head back to down the entire glass, dropping it on the grass beneath your feet when you were finished.

"Alright I deserved that too."

"Wait a minute." Finally, your legs had started to feel more like some half-frozen jello concoction instead of pure jelly, just enough to where you could weakly push yourself off Techno's cape. Which you think both you and he appreciated. "Where are we?"

The trees and fauna that surrounded you were alien in nature. Of course, you knew that you were in a forest, but you had spent your entire life on this server and had never once seen trees as tall and wide as these. It hadn't been smoke blocking out the beautiful blues of the sky earlier like you thought, but instead clusters of thick branches: the leaves preventing any sunlight from reaching the three of you.

"Well, we were supposed to be at our super secret top base a couple minutes ago, but then you woke up." Tommy puffed his chest out at the mention of his hideaway. A faint name you hadn't heard in a few weeks came to mind, and you let it roll off your tounge as you realized where exactly this forest lead.

"Pogtopia. You're taking me to Pogtopia."

Tommys prideful grin and Techno's overwhelming silence only confirmed your fears.

"No. No you can't fucking take me to Pogtopia. Certainly not with him." Your words tumble over each other in a verbal avalanche as you jutted an aggressive thumb behind you at Techno, really hoping that he was still there and that you didn't look like an idiot pointing at nothing.

"I told ya they wouldn't like it."

"Shut the fuck up Big T, I'm trying to work here." Tommy snapped. And for a moment you could see the fear in his baby blue eyes. It was so hard to remember that he was just a kid sometimes. With Tubbo, at least his boyish face made it easier for others to remind themself that he was still a little kid. One that had been thrust into the harsh spotlight of the world. But Tommy? Little Tommy that had been so eager to grow up and be like his Wilbur? He had been pushed away from the limelight from the very moment L'Manburg's construction had begun. He was the waterboy, running around both literally and metaphorically behind the scenes trying to keep everything together. Loosing what had little childlike quality he had about him in the first place.

In some ways, Tommy was still a scared child. But in most? He was now a soldier with too many scars to bear. And he would have to live with all of them for the rest of his last life.

So you took a breath and steadied yourself in the moment. If not for you, then for Tommy. The boy that could outshine Helios himself.

"I trust you Tommy. I told Tubbo that the day of the festival, however long ago that was. I don't know right now and personally I don't care. So if you think that taking me to Pogtopia really will do some good, then let's go."

Tommy blinked at you once. It reminded you of the way a raccoon would, tilting its head gently while looking at a bag full of chips it wanted to steal. But Tommy wasn't a raccoon, and you weren't a bag of chips. You were just two people that had been through hell and back and then to hell and back again.

"Yeah." He spoke softly, and for a moment you thought you saw his eyes gloss over as he sniffled before the blonde turned away sharply. "It's not far from here, so you shouldn't have much trouble walking. Unless Mr. Blade here wants to, uh, carry you?"

"No."

"Yeah okay. Thought so."

"Will you at least let him, fucken, explain what happened then?"

Your eyes narrowed as you stared down Tommy, before eventually grunting with reluctant nod.

"Not much to explain." Techno shrugged, his many accessories clinking together with the effort. "Schlatt found out 'bout our plan and I had ta make some last minute changes. Couldn't tell ya, you were too close to Schlatt at the moment. Really am sorry 'bout the whole fireworks thing."

"Did he really make an offer to you? For blood and all?"

"Mm. Yeah. I accepted at the time ta keep up appearances, but it came in handy when things went south."

Tommy nodded along with Techno's words, occasionally backing him up with a yeah! Or, that's right!

"So you're telling me." You squinted. "That you really didn't want to kill me?"

"Ehhh not really." Techno shook his head. "I like blood sure, blood for the blood god and all that, but you're alright."

It might not seem like much of a compliment, but you knew when I came to Technoblade that any form of praise was to be appreciated.

"Alright." You finally relented. "Just—don't do it again."

"Wasn't plannin on it." He snorted. And with that you all set off again.

Tommy really hadn't lied about the distance it took to get to Pogtopia. The walk hadn't taken much longer than a simple ten minutes, half of those ten slowed by your constant need for breaks and water. You hadn't remembered dying being this annoying after coming back to life—which you still had question's about regarding why you hadn't spawned in your bed—but then again you had been five. And considering you couldn't remember where you put your own shoes half the time, it wasn't a surprise you had forgotten about the side effects. The very annoying, very exhausting side effects.

Eventually you noticed the changes in your surroundings. Animal sightings were few and far between now—the something going for any kind of colorful plant life. Even the birds had stopped singing, leaving the three of you to walk in an eerie silence that was occasionally broken by Tommys warbly singing—a habit he had picked up during the war you recalled. Now all that was left were trees that were getting bigger and thicker with every step.

All of it led up to one big crack in the ground, Tommy stopping at the bane of it with what could only be described as a tense smile. As you looked over his shoulder and down the edge, vertigo gripped you by the neck and shook you around like a rag doll. You had to scramble backwards, only being able to catch a glimpse of winding staircases leading up and down the walls of mother nature's natura crater.

"Home sweet fucking home. Hope you like potatoes."

Spoiler alert, you did like potatoes. You liked these ones quite a lot actually.

After getting over the fact that they had been grown with dirty rain water and expired seeds, you had taken tentative bites from the first healthy food you had laid eyes on in months. When you were back at Manburg, under the constant watch of Schlatt and all his cronies, you had grown distrustful. That extended to everyone from the servants that were required to clean your room (you had made a hidey-hole for important things inside the foundation of your bedframe) to the gardeners that trimmed trees outside your two story high window (you ended up purchasing a sheet of glass from a local blacksmith on the downlow, the brittle material enchanted so that way you could see out of it, but nobody could see in) and even the cooks that would prepare your meal.

You had taken to relying just on Niki for food. But the baker only knew how to make sweet treats. So as a result, you had been left brushing your teeth twice as long every night after surviving a day on cakes and cookies, praying your teeth wouldn't fall out at a moment's notice.

It's strange, really, how that's what you chose to think about as you sat around a makeshift cobblestone table, munching on potatoes as news of death and despair was retold to you in a detail so deep your skin prickled with the effort. You had come to learn that human mind worked in strange ways when it came to grief. But you really didn't really think potatoes would be the thing to calm you after everything.

You didn't like being alone. Especially not in Pogtopia. Surrounded by stoney (no pun intended) walls that frowned down upon you, all the cracks and crevices filled in with buttons of all types. Wooden buttons, stone buttons, metal buttons, glass buttons. All begging to be pressed. In a moment of curiosity, you had considered the possibility of pushing one before dispelling the thought as quickly as it had come. Waving it away with a pass of your hand like a smoker would do to smoke.

The human mind was a dangerous thing when left unattended to. You knew that. You had seen it one too many times in the eyes of madmen as you walked down the streets at night. And even in the eyes or rich nobles who had hoarded their wealth all to themself, becoming consumed with so much of their own greed they were simply a sick personification of a dragon.

For once it wasn't any of them you had to worry about. Rather yourself. You and the tiny pile of potatoes Techno had oh so graciously left for you in a neat stack as he and Tommy left. Something about a rescue mission and you not being allowed, which torn you between insisting you came with them to give Schlatt hell (if he was even still alive) and staying to rest. But you had ultimately made your decision, one last longing look at the food enough to tip you over the edge.

Still. Something didn't feel right. Something had been bubbling in your chest like molten lead ever since you set your eyes on Pogtopias chambers, air bubbles occasionally surfacing in the thick stew and popping, lighting up your brain with the answer for just a moment before dying out and simmering away. And each time you had to resist the urge to groan in frustration like a child faced with a list of chores.

What had Wilbur always mumbled when you used to peak into his office, finding him looking out his window? A symphony this, symphony that. An unfinished symp-

An unfinished symphony.

The lava in your chest had reached it boiling point.

You looked, and I mean really looked, at your surroundings now. All the buttons surrounding you from wall to wall. The faint smell of gunpowder and red stone. How bits of sand were scattered all across the floor, practically sticking to your already battered shoes.

"Oh Wilbur. Oh no Wilbur."

You could do nothing but stare at the pieces to the puzzle your former leader had left behind for you to find.

He really had gone mad.

"I need him." You numbly realized through a cloudy haze in your mind that only a few other people knew about what Wilbur was planning. Did Techno? Did Tommy? Was that they he had looked so saddened when he had gazed out upon this cesspool he called home? Watching as you walked around it, not knowing what sins had been committed in its very walls. Even if that was the case, Tommy was long gone now. On his way back to that damned country of Manburg. Probably already there too, along with thousands of other people that Wilbur planned to bring to an end.

"I need him." This time you were actually moving. Really moving, searching for anything to write with and write on. Eventually you gave up on going formal and ripped part of your pant leg off, dipping your forefinger in some coal dust that had gathered on the floor to write a message to someone. Someone you hadn't talked to in years.

Wil's gone crazy. Lots of death. L'Manburg. Hurry. Find me.

You paused for a brief moment before adding something that you knew would get your old friends attention.

Techno's here. Need help

"Goddamnit this better work. Now let's see if I still remember how to do this."

Fingertips tasting of ash and coal placed themselves on the inside of your mouth- forming a familiar shape as you blew out harshly, a high pitched whistle following suit.

You didn't have to wait long to bear the fruits of your labor. Only a few seconds of tense silence consumed your time before a jet black crow appeared out of nowhere and landing on your shoulder. Looking at you, it tilted its head sassily, almost as if asking what are you waiting for?

Handing it the piece of fabric with seldom a sentence on it, you nodded at the intelligent creature.

"You know what to do."

You imagined if crows could roll their eyes, this one would have. But it flew off without another second despite its attitude anyways, the only evidence left behind that it had even been there a sleek feather that stuck itself stubbornly in your hair.

It had the easy job. Now it was your turn to carry the weight and find your old friend.

Well, at least before he could commit mass genocide.

The gentle sound of guitar strings being plucked in harmony filled your ears as a soft summers breeze tickled your face.

You would be a fool to call this moment heavenly. Anyone would. It was far from perfection. The holes in your clothes and sunkenness of your cheeks were evident enough of your struggles.

But for a moment, all of that was tossed aside as you leaned against the man next to you, reveling in the warmth that radiated from him even in the hot afternoon.

"Careful there love." Wilbur chuckled, pausing the playing of his guitar to adjust the strings. "Get anymore comfortable and I'll have to carry you back to the van at this rate. Can't be having my best soldier falling asleep on me in the middle of a war."

"We're not on the battlefield though, general." You had used the title jokingly, but a sliver of respect still shimmied its way in there somewhere. It always had and always would for as long as you stood by his side.

"You jest." The British man hummed with approval as he got one of the tunes on his guitar just right, moving on the fix another. "But both you and I know war will never end. Not for people like us."

Your brows furrowed. The blanket both of you were sitting on to protect your legs from the prickly grass shifted as you sat up straighter.

"What do you mean Wil." You frowned. He looked up at you through his lashes, wiry glasses threatening to fall of his long nose before he pushed them up. "We're this close to winning L'Manburg from Dream. She'll finally be real. Your lifes work taken form—our lifes work."

"And how right you are." As the end of his sentence trailed off into nothingness, you raised an eyebrow, recognizing the fact he was about to go on another one of his poetic tangents.

"But?"

"But I am simply a conductor. And orchestrator, if you will, of something much bigger than me. L'Manburg is my unfinished symphony. Always had been and always will." You recognized the far away look in Wilbur's eyes as he stared at you, gently resting his guitar to the side as he took one of your hands in both of his. "This is a song that could, and very well might, go on for ages. Swelling and crescendoing for all eternity."

The though brough a smile to your cheeks. The very same ones that turned hot as Wilbur reached a hand up to cup your jaw with a prideful smile.

"But even as she does on, my dear soldier, once the reins have even taken from me forcefully—a thing all people in power have to go through—the tune will change. Not enough for anyone to notice the difference, oh no. But just enough to where it's always in the back of your mind, nagging you. Screaming and yelling with such an insignificant voice that something is wrong. No one will notice before it's too late and everything comes crashing down from above."

"I'm not sure I understand Wil."

"What I'm trying to say, darling, is that this symphony, as unfinished as it will always be, needs to end with me. By my hands and my hands only. Poetic, isn't it? Built and destroyed by the very same man?"

"You're always poetic, oh esteemed general." You mumbled in amusement. He had lost you again amidst his ramblings, as he always did. But as the rough callous of his thumb ran itself tenderly across the skin on your cheek, you couldn't find it in yourself to really care about anything else.

"Me and you." Hed whispered to you then. "You and I. Our beautiful nation—"

"—together until the end."

Wilbur finished the memory for you as you stepped into the bunker you had been looking for.

It took you exactly one try for you to be able to find him.

It wasn't hard really. You knew that if Wilbur hadn't wanted to be found, then he wouldn't have. If he hadn't wanted you to see the gunpowder on Pogtopias ground, or all the ominous buttons decorating the walls, he wouldn't have. But he did. He wanted you here with him. To witness the great end he had spoken about all those years ago atop a grassy hill. To end what you both had started. Together.

"What fools we were, my old friend." A laugh as bitter as black coffee spilled from Wilbur. He stood against a carefully chiseled wall, lyrics you wished you didn't recognize but still scribbled all over the hollow room like something from a horror movie.

"Since when did we become old friends? Last I checked you were wishing me luck on the downfall of Manburg." It took little effort to speak to him this way. Wilbur had aways been the one person you understood completely. Even now as he laid out a room full of mass destruction in front of you weren't surprised. Dread ridden and horrified maybe, but surprised? When it came to the two of you, neither ever were with the other.

"That was before today's festival though, wasn't it?"

"Both you and I know what I said wasn't true." So this was still the same man that had stared you down from a rooftop as you announced your false allegiance to Manburg. "I was killed by how unimpressed Schlatt was with my performance, remember?"

"Don't—" He held out a hand, hissing angrily. "—say his name. Not you, You don't get to say his name when you're with me."

"What am I, your dog?" You asked, incredulous he would go as far to demand you not speak certain things. "Grow up Wilbur and stop throwing a pity party in your doomsday room like a child. So you lost. You lost the election. You didn't lose me or the dozen other people that would die for you in a heartbeat, and you sure as hell didn't lose Tommy."

He flinched at the mention of the young blonde. Good. Let him stew in the fact he had fucked up. And he really had fucked up. Hard.

"Now come on. I'm tired of fighting today, Wil." The old nickname slipped out as easily as it always had. You supposed even with months of separation there were some old habits you hadn't been able to break. You saw his cold gaze soften in the heat of your words. "Let's go see if we can find everyone, yeah? Try and work this out. Show everyone you're not the bad guy you so desperately want to be."

"You—"

"Mate? What are you doing?"

Both of you froze, albeit for different reasons. Suprise melted into disbelief as you turned on your heal to be met with a set of brilliant black wings, the owner of them watching the both of you curiously.

"Phi." You breathed out, going to hug him tightly. The man wavered in his own moment of surprise before eventually embracing you back, although it didn't last long before he pulled away, eyes flickering down to the missing piece of fabric on your leg with realization.

"I would ask how Techno's doing, but I'm just glad I found you in the first place mate." His tone was serious as he scanned your face, hands resting on the sides of your shoulders like a security blanket. "The crows had a harder time locating you than usual. I just barely stumbled in here on my own anyways. And speaking of which—" His eyes, aged with years of experience and worry, flicked from your face to around the room before eventually landing on the only other person in the room.

"Wil? What's going on? What are you doing."

"Hello dad." Wilbur's voice shook like a child's when they got lost in the grocery store. "I assume they called you?"

"Yeah. And I think for a pretty good reason too, son." Phil took a small step away from you and toward Wilbur instead, the latter stiffening and shuffling closer to the wall behind him.

"What is this place?" Phil sounded more sullen than you had ever heard.

"Okay—I will admit. It's, uh. Do you know what this button is?"

Wilbur stepped to the side just enough to reveal what he had been standing in front of. It was a button, no larger than the size of your palm, with a red x slashed through it.

"Uh huh. I have a feeling I do." Phil spoke cautiously. You had a feeling you did too.

"Have you heard the—the song—" He pointed to the walls. "—on the walls? Before? Have you heard the song? I was just saying—I made this big point and it made—it was poignant, and it was the—it’s um—" He looked at the walls like a man trying to remember his past. "There was a special place, where men could go. But that’s not there anymore, you know? It’s not—"

"It is there!" Phil shouted over his rambling. "You've just gone and won it back Wilbur!"

"PHIL- I’M ALWAYS SO CLOSE TO PRESSING THIS BUTTON, PHIL!"

Both of you waited with bated breath as he tugged at his hair violently, and for just a moment you saw his bloodied scalp. Presumably from where he had done that many times before.

"I’ve been here—I've been here like seven or eight times! I’ve been here—seven or eight times!" Wilbur laughed a cruel laugh, his eyes darting from your face and Phils.

You watched as he took a breath.

"There was a saying. Uh—by a traitor uh—once part of L’Manburg. A traitor, I don’t know if you’ve heard about Eret?" The last part of his sentence was meant for Phil, but at the mention of her name you swallowed down years of tears. Yeah. You remembered them.

"They had a saying." He finally looked at you, offering a small smile. The same smile that got you into all of this in the first place. The same smile that you had loved to see while sitting round a fire, looking at the stars and telling tall tales. The same smile you once had pledged you would follow to the ends of the earth.

"It was never meant to be."

And then he slammed his hand down on the button.

Later you would remember the scream that drew itself from your throat. The way Phils wings covered you as a protective barrier, their soft material deflecting the heat of the TNT that exploded all around you.

But in the moment, all you could focus on was the way Wilbur's flesh sizzled and his bones charred. Burnt with the passion for his country.

Burnt with something that, indeed, was never meant to be.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[lowkeyrobin]

QUACKITY ; tik tok challenge

summary ; quackity does the little kissing my best friend/crush challenge on tik tok

warnings ; language

genre ; fluff

word count ; 512

masterlist

Five years ago, if you were told that your best friend Alex Quackity made thirst trap Tik Toks, you genuinely would've cackled. Today, you would've shrugged and said 'cool' before returning to the current activity.

Five years ago, Alex jokingly hated on any popular artist on the radio because they were all overrated. Today, he listened to The Weeknd, Lil Nas X, and Jack Harlow religiously.

When Alex took his phone out in the middle of one of your usual sleepovers, you thought the same thing you always thought, that he was just going to make some drafts for his Tik Tok and maybe include you in some.

Not even five years ago, a trend arises on the platform, a little trend where people kissed their best friends/crushes I a seemingly normal little lip syncing video. Today, it wasn't popular to see anymore, but people did it with their crushes to see how they'd react and see if they had a chance, to see how they'd respond to it.

Today, Alex was going to test that theory on you.

Five years ago, Alex figured himself out, that he had a crush on you. Today, he kept it under well wraps. During the Dream SMP era, you two joked about liking each other on stream and on Twitter, and your fans played into it as well, but over time it faded, considering some people went to far and it made both of you uncomfortable. Five years ago, you started taking a little bit more than a liking to Alex, considering that there may have been some romantic tension pulling at the strings of your friendship. Today, you didn't believe that anymore, but slightly kept your hopes up, just in case.

Alex holds his phone up, lip syncing to False Alarm by The Weeknd, leaning back on the bedframe next to you. He tilts the phone so you're in frame. You look to him with a little smile and he looks back at you, singing the lyrics to you.

Over the video, you can be seen mouthing a 'yeah?' to him in a teasing manner. You turn back down to your phone, and he uses his free hand to rest his fingers under your chin and redirect your gaze back to him. Your brows furrow before he kisses you, and you both pull away at the same time. He looks for your reaction before laughing at your confused look.

"What?"

His eyes slightly widen as he quickly replies with "It's a trend!"

You, out of confusion and shock, kiss him one more time before he drops his phone to instead place his hand on your jaw, turning your head a little more upward towards him.

"Y/n I'm so in love with you it was a trend but I used it as an excuse I'm sorry-"

"Me too!"

Silence condemns you, the both of you staring at each other, trying to process the others words.

"Cool" You both speak in unison

You both go quiet again before he speaks up.

"So what now?"

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Actually no, let’s expand on the theme of memory in Karmaland and how it plays into the series’ overarching story as a whole.

In Karmaland, heroes are reincarnated (or pulled from other dimensions, however you may see it) time and time again. Their memories are wiped, and they’re a complete blank slate with no recollection of any of their previous lives at the beginning of each season.

...Or at least, that’s how it’s supposed to go. But some things outlast lifetimes, and two of the biggest examples of that in this series are love and trauma.

Let’s look at Luzu — betrayed, hurt, and left heartbroken in K4 — who cannot shake his fear of betrayal even in a new lifetime. In this current world, he operates with automatic wariness and distrust of everyone (with the exception of Quackity, to some degree), and although he still retains some of his old kindness and compassion, the grief from his past life is so strong it almost erased that part of him entirely.

In Karmaland, the strong emotions and meaningful experiences you have in your lifetime, whether good or bad, leave behind invisible marks on your soul that cannot be erased. And nobody exhibits that better than Rubius and Vegetta, especially after today’s revelations.

An undeniable truth that almost feels written into the very fabric of Karmaland’s universe itself is that Rubius and Vegetta love each other. The problem is: that love has very different ripple effects on the two of them, and each subsequent life they live.

This season, there’s clearly love between both characters, but a lack of commitment to that love, and a emotional imbalance to their relationship as a whole. When trying to explain it to a third party, Vegetta said, “Rubius doesn’t love me the way I love him,” and jokingly likened it to him making Rubius a hamburger, but Rubius refusing to eat it. Vegetta is, of course, always willing to play along with Rubius and reciprocate the affection he’s given, but he’s not expecting anything more from Rubius. The way I see it, it’s almost as if Vegetta’s default response to Rubius’ lack of commitment is resignation. He expects nothing more than what’s given, as though he’s preemptively saving himself from heartbreak.

Except that heartbreak has already happened.

In Karmaland 4, Vegetta gave Rubius his love, his heart, his everything, and the moment they were married, Rubius revealed it was all a con. Regardless of anything that came afterward, in that life or this one, the effects of that moment left behind deep scars on Vegetta’s heart.

Rubius, on the other hand, never seemed to be troubled by any events in his previous lives until today. All at once, he’s forced to remember the life he once lived, but during that confusing revelation, his gut reaction is to ask an old loved one: “What was my relationship with Vegetta?” Rubius is a powerful man with questionable morals at the best of times, but this seemingly instinctual reaction says a lot about him as a character, and his priorities as a whole.

I think one of the most telling moments from today’s event is that, while Rubius remembers the wedding, he doesn’t remember his betrayal. He associates that memory, and his relationship with Vegetta, with joy, and sees it in a positive light.

The difference is: Vegetta associates that hazy memory, and Rubius, with abandonment. And as we’re rapidly approaching Lolito’s and Vegetta’s wedding day, it seems like history is doomed to repeat itself.

With pressure from Rubius and Alexby, and influenced by his own questionable motives and thirst for power, it’s looking like Lolito won’t marry Vegetta after all (and if he does, the marriage certainly won’t be a happy one). Even as Vegetta tries to distance himself from Rubius, he still winds up getting hurt because of his direct and indirect actions. It’s almost as if in every new lifetime, Rubius is coming closer and closer to fully embracing his love for Vegetta, but at the same time, each new timeline is driving Vegetta further and further away from him because Vegetta is subconsciously starting to associate Rubius with negative things.

Broken promises. Lack of commitment. Betrayal. Abandonment.

Rubius and Vegetta are permanently bound together by fate, but that “red string of fate” is slowly killing one of them. Or, to quote a meme shared by another Spanish fan; “You don’t want me to be with you, and you don’t want me to be with someone else. How miserable do I have to be for you to be happy?”

Karma is defined as the sum of a person’s actions in this, and previous states of existence, determining their fate and future existences. So what did Vegetta do to deserve this kind of suffering?

When does love become torment, and when does fate become a curse?

[yourmamakira]

ok so this has been on my mind literally all day.. shes a long one.. but dream with his s/o at twitchcon.. maybe they're also a streamer and apart of the smp so she's there on his side during the panel.. and like when that certain fan asked "if you could be a different character in the smp, who would it be", they're like "niki hands down. she runs a little bakery and isn't in a relationship with a manipulative, green blob" and to her left, dream just has this like offended face and is like "...heY" where his voice goes like high and borderline whiney.. and like whilst everyone on the panel is individually answering, the fans just see cute little interactions between y/n and dream like lingering gazes filled with love or even the way y/n (bc i just see them being the sweetest bean) just stares adoringly at fans as they ask questions.. they're just always 🥰 when interacting with fans or dream.. always smiling and always soft and sweet.. wow i'm corny but.. yes

Wait stop this is so effin cute. WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN– this is really short but this is really cute tysm for the Request!

And also I don't mind long requests, They are requests either way ty lovelys <3

WARNINGS: None

CW: no 1st prs used

Fluff

Parings: Dream × Fem!Reader

○○○○○○○○○○○

It's the middle of vidcon, Questions has been thrown around, Water Chugged and Fans amused by the SMP's IRL chaos

This particular Vidcon, everyone is here.

After Soon being Soon, Dream had finally face revealed, leaving His fans to thirst even more.

Y/n and Dream sat At the table next to eachother Anwser fan questions, so far nothing horrible. Everyone being...Mildly family friendly *cough* Quackity *cough*

It is to no ones suprise that you and Dream are dating, you never try and hide it.

And it's really funny seeing that way everyone reacts to you're interactions, When others are Anwsering Dreams talking into you're ear to not be rude, or he's playing with you're fingers or you're playing with his rings.

They love seeing everyone the same On and off the Smp, which you joined not to long ago, Lore has been fun and will always be you're favorite part of the smp.

So when It feels like just you and Dream for a few seconds as he's talking into you're ear with his arm on the back on you're chair. We hear someone's small voice starts talking into the microphone

We all look over and smile to the kid and he continued with the question

"Uhm, Hi" his little voice spot into the microphone nervously

I could tell he was getting nervous

So instead of speaking into the microphone I sent the kid a thumbs up and a smile, He smiled back bigger and I could tell it worked. People would definitely spot that.

"This question is for all of you guys, uhm, if you could switch lore characters with Anyone on the smp, who would it be"

Me being at the end of the table I got the mic first

"Shehh" I sucked in air through my teeth and laughed as everyone else

"Okay this one's kinda- okay Definitely Niki Nihachu Hands Down, She owns a bakery and she's a baddie, Duh- only right Anwser" I said moving around I leaned over a bit looking at Niki as she looks back smiling and send a air kiss to Niki and the crowd filled with laughed

"Okay yeah Yeah Niki, Gotta love 'er- Her character just period and she didn't make the mistake of Getting into a relationship with a green homeless man so yeah"

Dream looked at me mouth wide "hEy" his voice cracked

I laughed at his face and Everyone burst into laughter

I gave the mic to Dream Being as he was next to me, he looked down at me and scoffed again, The crowed grew into a fit of small giggles as well as I did

He rolled his eyes and shifted in his chair looking in the crowd

"Well I know who I'm not gonna be"

The whole crowd laughed as well as all of us did and the show went on with everyone else giving thier funny and goofy Anwsers

-----

I hope you liked this short little thing. I hope I got everything you asked for, I tried to get everything and still make it look...well good. This was so cute to make THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST <33

Don't hold back any ideas you have, I love seeing you're ideas!