we know that vecna represents people’s inner trauma and the thoughts that haunt them
in max’s scenes, we’re shown that she’s had suicidal thoughts over billy’s death. when she slashes vecna’s throat and runs away, that is her making the choice to live & fight back against those demons.
if mike gets vecna’d… and is taunted by his internalized homophobic thoughts…. his moment of breaking free is him choosing to accept his sexuality & fight the hatred & shame he has over it.
Tubbo’s muscles went liquid when XD unearthed his sickeningly pallid hand from his robes.
His feet cemented themselves into the ice, and a deafening, electronic buzz began to chafe in his ears. He had no choice to stay stock still as his fate, golden halos orbiting their smiling face, reached out with pale fingers. XD mercilessly dug their nails into Tubbo’s eye socket, and Tubbo’s lips parted in shock. Immediately, agony rushed to claw out of his mouth, but any hint of a scream lodged itself in Tubbo’s throat, and his lungs were filled with sticky putty.
XD rooted his nails in deep, boring into the tendons keeping the unfortunate eye in Tubbo’s skull. With a sickening squelch, XD slowly pulled the eye from Tubbo’s head, a bemused, callous grin smearing his lips all the while. Agony exploded through Tubbo’s skull, whitehot and unfathomable. It violently pulsed through his head, and as XD gave one last yank, severing eye from owner, Tubbo heaved, the paralysis shattered, and he went crashing to the snowy beach beneath him. XD laughed something Tubbo couldn’t hear, and in a blinding flash of white, the Deity was gone- not that Tubbo had the capacity to even look for them.
He could not hear himself when he screamed.
He pressed his palm against the gaping wound, and his stomach lurched when he felt the flesh that had been ripped away. Pain writhed through Tubbo’s entire body, the mechanical buzzing in his ears drowning out the waves crashing on the beach, the wind rustling the trees. Tubbo stuffed his knuckles into his mouth, hoping to quiet his agonized sobs, but they only loudened into wails soaked in unimaginable pain. Blood spurted from his empty eye socket, hot and sticky, slicking his hands, face, the powdery snow, and world spun and stretched before his single eye, dragging Tubbo further into a realm so painful, he did not know where reality began and agony-induced thought ended. Only the festival could rival this sickening agony, the act of flesh being stripped away by someone endlessly more powerful than Tubbo, and through his delirious, distorted thoughts, Tubbo thanked XD that there was no fire this time.
Curled into a fetal position, uncontrollable tremors wracking his body, blood warming his hands, inexplicably, prayer came to Tubbo’s mind. Prime, he whimpered in his mind. It wasn’t meant to go like this. If I can’t survive this- save Ranboo. For Michael. And tell Tommy I’m sorry. The prayer rang feeble in his own ears, a desperate, pathetic cry for help. Surely he would die from this. Surely his last moment would be spent grovelling in agony in the wake of a callous, unforgiving God.
Far off, as if calling Tubbo from a deep slumber, Tubbo thought he heard somebody screaming his name, and crashing footsteps echoed dizzily through his ears. He sobbed through torn breath. Was this salvation?
“Tubbo!” They wailed faintly, horror splitting the cry, and Tubbo foggily wondered if he recognized their voice. A figure kneeled in front of him, distant and swimming- it was Wilbur, fear in his fiery eyes, bags shoveled deep beneath his thick lashes. No, that wasn’t right- the hallucination swam and distorted before Tubbo’s eye, and suddenly there was Tommy, his normally electric-blue eyes dulled to gray, his long, ratty hair spilling over torn, muddied clothes, exhaustion and hurt lining his face. Tubbo cried out to him, but once again, the vision morphed, and the straw color of Tommy’s hair sank into raven black, and Quackity knelt before him, a canyon carved into his left eye and upper lip, a frightening, unwonted hostility lurking in his chestnut eyes. Tubbo squeezed his eye shut, and sobbed wordlessly.
The person clutched Tubbo to their chest and lifted him effortlessly, but those hands were not Wilbur’s, or Tommy’s, or Quackity’s.
They were Ranboo's hands, warm and grounding, yet unbearably hot against Tubbo’s skin. He was talking, no doubt stuttering out a panicked request for explanation, and Tubbo did not offer any, simply grabbed at Ranboo’s white blazer, watching crimson seep into its threads.
“I tried to save you,” Tubbo keened through agony, “I- fuck. I tried to- to save you.” in response, Ranboo’s voice swam in Tubbo’s ears, but darkness closed in faster than Tubbo could understand what they were saying.
He woke up in fits of agony and torrenting guilt. Each time, the sickeningly sweet taste of healing potion on his lips for the next few… hours? Days? It felt like months, but it could surely not be so. Ranboo would not live til the first of January. Recollection of the time trapped in bed wafted in and out of Tubbo’s head as if notes in an unfamiliar song. Michael in the hallway, asking in broken English, “Bee okay?”, Tommy holding a whispered, angry conversation in the doorway with Ranboo, and most frequently, Ranboo sitting by the bed, clutching Tubbo’s hand fervently, cheeks slicked with sizzling tears.
Tubbo tried to push out of bed time and time again, but each time, a pair of hands led him back to the blankets, gently shushing him- Ranboo, Tommy, Phil- it seemed to be somebody different every time. Yet Tubbo arose the next time anyways, the first question on his lips always being, “Is he alive?” He was met with quiet reassurances, soft words, but they all seemed so paper-thin.
No matter what Tubbo did now, some day he would wake up, and the answer to that question would not be given with words. It would be given with shifted eyes, murmurs outside of his room, pitying expressions.
Ranboo would die. Tubbo would be powerless to stop it.
Hello! May you please write a snippet in which the hero has to fight a teenaged villain? The hero tries to confront them about their villainy and tries to make them understand that what they’re doing is wrong, but the villain is just being all sarcastic and cocky and doesn’t care, instead, they want to fight? Thank you!
Hero found their opponent on the rooftop of a very tall building in the center of the city, overlooking the streets of cars and pedestrians along the sidewalks.
Villain was leaning against the edge of the border lining the roof, arms crossed, hair whipping around in the cold wind.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” they snapped suddenly.
“Like what?” Hero stopped in their tracks, raising a brow. What did they do?
Villain shook their head. “Like I’m some child that needs saving.” They ran their hands through their hair, combing through the tangles. “Is that why you came up here? Because you wanna talk me into stopping all of my shit?”
Hero swallowed tightly. “Villain, you’re only 16. What you’re doing is...” they trailed off, cleared their throat. “I just want to have a conversation.”
“Yeah yeah yeah, I’m a teenager who can’t even drive yet and here I am blowing up buildings and robbing banks.” Villain’s tone turned mocking. “Like all those people who say stuff like oh I have to stop because it’s bad for my mental health. Killing people will land you in jail and you can’t get an education. Or what about—,”
“Stop it, Villain,” Hero said, voice sharp. “That’s not what I’m trying to do here.”
Villain snorted. “You sound like my mother/father.” They sounded as cocky as ever, but Hero could see the barest flash of something other than over-confidence cross their expression.
Hero softened. “You miss them, don’t you?”
It hit home. Villain flinched, hands gripping the cement tiles of the ledge. “What?”
“You miss your parents.” Hero continued their approach, staying cautious. “Is that why you’ve been doing all this? Because of what happened?”
Villain’s snarl could’ve rocked the moon if it didn’t crack at the last moment. “They took them away from me. This stupid fucking government and their inability to condemn people.” They pointed a finger at Hero. “And you’re part of them! You could’ve found who—,”
Hero placed a hand on their shoulder and crouched down so they were eye level with them. “I’m sorry, Villain,” they said, heart aching. “I really am. But what happened doesn’t need to determine the future that lies ahead of you. You don’t have to go against the government like this and destroy it. You can help repair it.”
Villain stared at them in disbelief, eyes glassy with unshed tears as they slapped their touch away. “If you were sorry, you would’ve found the killers by now. If you didn’t want me to turn out like this, you should’ve done your fucking job correctly.” They gave Hero an angry shove to the chest, who stumbled back with an indiscernible expression on their face.
“We can still fix this—,”
“No we can’t.” Villain straightened, pulling at the cuffs of their sleeves before unsheathing a blade from their belt. “That opportunity was gone years ago. You’d have better luck fixing yourself once I’m done beating you up.” They grinned, all iciness and bravado again.
Hero grimaced, drawing their own weapon reluctantly before Villain lunged at them, lighting quick, and clashed blades.
I hit post limit so I can’t rb but WHAT THE FUCKKKKKK OH MY GOD /POS
Thank you! I wrote over 1,300 words for it in just under an hour and a half last night, and I'm still brainrotting over it. Here's a little snippet:
"You know—it's actually kind of funny!" Dream says with a laugh. "You thought you did something by locking Ranboo up, didn't you? I bet you thought you were clever. But you're not, are you? You wouldn't be stupid enough to find your way back in here if you were."
"He was leverage," Sam says. "He helped you, didn't he? You scared him into not telling me, but I still figured it out."
"And where did that take you?" Dream says. "Face it, this is karma right now. You killed someone, and now you have to deal with the consequences! You're a criminal, Sam! You're even worse than I am!"
"You killed Tommy, Dream!" Sam says. "You tried to kill Tubbo! They're just kids!"
"And you killed Ranboo." Dream leans close to Sam's face. "If that makes me worthy of getting put in here, what does that make you?"
[image description: screenshots from stranger things season 4 where eddie reads from a magazine to the hellfire group. "dungeons and dragons, at first regarded as a harmless game of make-believe, now has both parents and psychologists concerned. studies have linked violent behavior to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship, ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even... murder."]
david jenkins was completely unaware of the idea of queerbaiting which is fine because it just meant he made canon queer couples. but can someone please make sure he knows what “bury your gays” means before season 2 lol
