muichiro-tokito-1710

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

My name is Tarneem Sami, and I am from Gaza. My husband, Ahmed, was killed while trying to bring us food during this cruel war. Now I am left alone with my three children, struggling to keep them alive. We are living in starvation, with no food, no clean water, and no medicine. My children cry from hunger every day, and I have nothing left to give them.

Please, I am begging you—help me save my children from this unbearable suffering. They are innocent and do not deserve this pain. Any support, no matter how small, could save their lives. Please don’t let my children die from hunger.

🌿🇵🇸 #Palestine #GazaUnderSiege 🇵🇸🌿

whoever you are, if this is real, I feel so so bad for you, but if this is fake, please go away and thank you :)

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

Chapter 8: If I Can't Have It, No One Can

"And if the sun comes down tonight... Would you promise to stay and fight?"

The ruins of L’Manberg stretched out before me, a stark graveyard of charred wood and broken stone. The air was suffocating, a mix of smoke and silence so thick it felt like it was trying to drown you.

You stood alone at the edge of it all, where the grass was still green, untouched by the fires. Your boots pressed into the earth, and you couldn’t tell if the weight in your chest was guilt or relief.

Maybe it was both.

They called you a betrayer. A traitor. They weren’t wrong, but they weren’t entirely right either. You hadn’t turned against them out of hatred or spite. No, your reasons were murkier than that—self-preservation, maybe. Or a belief, buried deep and half-formed, that the ideals they clung to were doomed from the start. That this whole thing was a lost cause, and if you couldn't have your dream, no one could.

You closed my eyes, and the memory came rushing back.

The night you struck the match, lit the spark that started all of this—it replayed in your mind with cruel clarity. Your voice in your ear, smooth and convincing: “I’m not destroying anything, right? I'm saving them from themselves. From this illusion of freedom they’ve built on borrowed time.”

And like a fool, you’d believed it.

You took a step forward, onto the scorched ground. It crunched beneath your feet, brittle and lifeless. The ghost of L’Manberg lingered here, in the shadows of its ruins. In the ashes that once formed homes, walls, a nation.

A nation you had destroyed.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face here.”

The voice startled you, sharp and familiar. You turned, your hand instinctively going to the hilt of the dagger at your hip, though I knew it wouldn’t help me.

Tommy stood a few paces away, his frame silhouetted against the dying light of the sun. His hands were balled into fists, and his face was a mixture of anger and something deeper—something raw.

You spoke, trying to sound firm, but couldn't hide the shakiness in your voice, "I didn’t think you’d care. You’ve made it pretty clear what you think of me. A traitor. I know it's true. I know what I’ve done. I came to see what was left — to see if I had made the right choice."

Tommy only narrowed his gaze, scrutinising you. "But you did it," he spoke, his words cutting through your denial like a blade. "You chose this, and don't you dare try to justify what you've done. And take a look, Y/N. This is what your 'right choice' looks like."

You glance back at the ruins, at the tattered remains of L’Manberg’s flag buried in rubble. You thought destroying it would pave the way for something better. Now, you’re not sure it paved the way for anything at all.

"I am not here to listen to your silly babbling or to fight you." Tommy snapped.

"I-I swear, I'm not here to fight! I'm here to see the ruins. To see what I've done. And you don't have to forgive me.... I don't expect you to ever be able to do that, because I can't forgive myself either... But you have to understand—" Your words got cut off by a coughing fit. The days you spent alone, crying and unable to eat or drink have started to take their toll on you.

Tommy only glared at you, a cold, distant look in your eyes. This wasn't the carefree boy you hung out and played with — this was someone you didn't recognise, someone tormented by the past and the present. HIs shoulders sagged in exhaustion, his L'Manberg uniform torn and dirtied, and he sighed, whispering, "I don't have to do anything. Unless you came to make things right, which I don't expect you to want to do, don't come back."

You turned and walked away. You didn't look back.

As you walk away, the weight of L’Manberg’s ashes clings to you, heavy and relentless. You don’t know if you’ll ever fix what you’ve done. You don’t even know if you deserve the chance.

But Tommy’s words stick with you, a stubborn ember refusing to die. That stubborn little voice, always following you, like the little spark of loyalty that remained in the crevices of your heart, despite all the things that you've done.

Maybe you can try, you think as you slowly walk away.

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

✨SPECIAL!✨Chapter 7: With a Dream of My Own

They were made to descend, chillingly, desolately, and profoundly uninvitingly, into dungeons deep beneath the earth—to a region, in other words, where darkness and despair seemed to interlock with one another, grasping each other in an embracing hold that appeared determined to stifle all hope. Neither of them could bring before his mind's eye such a staggering reality as that which had just been revealed before them. It was beyond the realm of imagination for anyone to believe that Cassie, their closest friend, and unwavering supporter through all their escapades, had accomplished such an unfathomable act. Days dragged on with agonizing slowness; time elongated into what felt like an eternity, every moment burdened by the suffocating weight of the harsh stone cell in which they were trapped and imprisoned. Instead of disowning her for the evil she had done to them, rewards started pouring in from all directions to Cassie. She wasn't just awarded one or two treasures; no, she was rewarded with an entire mountain of rare Netherite, a fortune that most people would never see in their lifetime. She obtained a position in court not only of high regard but also of high demand, a position many others coveted to have. And she came out of it, though the dreary reality overshadowed her mind. It was self-evident that she had come out unscathed; the impunity she had was even more remarkable than that she was left uninjured. She was popular, feted, and lionized in many quarters for her wit, graces, and artful devices.The foreboding sound of Cassie's voice still lingered in Y/N's head as she stood alone in the vast courtyard of the grand palace. Her eyes had glazed over, mesmerized by the kaleidoscope of colors swirling around her, filling her heart with boundless joy and profound love."Either one betrays or gets betrayed in this world, Y/N; there's never an in-between," she had said, with a smile that was both inviting and warm, though tinged beneath the surface by a thread of deception. Then, her sparkling eyes acted like a bolt of lightning, striking deep into his heart and pushing it down to drown in a pit of despair, leaving him hopeless to come out of it. A world forever changed, one in which he no longer held on for dear life to the shards of what once was, nor did this connection, this tie so strong, blow away into the wind like a fog. For that to happen, one must realize that such a deep betrayal can never be cut or seared by any instrument or weapon-wielding an edge. Who would have thought it would ever come to this? Was some tragic destiny written in the stars?

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

✨SPECIAL!✨Chapter 7: With a Dream of My Own

AYYYY GUYS THIS IS THE SPECIAL CHAPTER! There will be Y/N lore + backstory and bcz it's so long I'mma make more than 1 post for this chap

Y/N and her best friend, Cassie, were inseparable. Their tie was so strong that the two souls seemed joined in a way that envied all who knew them. The girls spent all their lives creating and delivering secrets; one could hear their laughter throughout every day, making sure they formed real, unforgettable memories that very few people could understand and relate to. Close by, a great palace reared its majestic marble front towards the sky, as if it were the very crown and glory of the landscape that stretched beneath, commanding it in its prominent central position. The magnificent and imposing structure, with its uncommon architecture and commanding appearance, took their fancy, conjuring well-defined images of such unimaginable riches and an endless, boundless power that it seemed to them only just beyond their reach. More fiercely than ever before, the fire surged through their minds, as a stream of fanciful visions danced before their imagination, stirring it restlessly. Though Y/N had never felt a special attraction toward the prospect of gaining great wealth or the material things that some might consider worldly treasures, Cassie, on the other hand, had always nurtured a secret ambition—oftentimes tucked away from view—shepherding her to be more and have more than was readily available to her. Accordingly, neither of them was shocked, nor even surprised when Cassie began to act strangely, evincing an incredible interest in some of the beautiful gems that were inlaid into the walls of this enormous palace.It was on this night, so filled with weighted anticipation and a deep sense of expectation, that Cassie made one final decision fork in the road that would irrevocably change the course of her whole life and determine her future in ways she could hardly imagine. And so, that night, Cassie snuck inside the fabled royal vault—imposing, replete with secrets locked away for centuries—and a staggering repository of literally everything of value that that kingdom had ever owned. Thin, deft fingers, full of dexterity and confidence in every touch, were taking out of their velvet-lined cases a few sparkling, shining, dazzling pieces of jewelry that shone softly under the dim light, which scarce defined the outlines of this dimly lit room. Those who had enjoyed even the slightest hint of power and prestige among the people were well aware of one fact: the guards—very tall and strong as they stood patrolling around the palace grounds—were seldom alert or very interested in the treasures kept safe behind those high, foreboding walls. This Cassie knew only too well, like everybody else. And it was precisely at this juncture in the burglary—one that had been so carefully planned, with such meticulous and exquisite attention to detail—that an accident suddenly occurred: one of a calamitously intentional nature. Thus began a sequence of events so staggering, so unintended, leading those present on a journey none could have ever imagined, much less expected in any way. Be that as it may, one of the guards chanced to be present and on duty at that very moment, and he saw her in the thick of the chaos. With purpose and resolve, he slowly made his way toward her, edging closer with determination. All of a sudden, there was a tide of brilliant panic surging within her, infused with an immensely resourceful quality; from this tumultuous swell, there sprang forth an ingenious, smart little scheme, designed to entwine Y/N in a way that would naturally bring suspicion over them. With the utmost attention to detail and due care, she had so taken her time in setting up everything: the evidence against them artfully arranged in such a clever and astute way that no one could ever think her capable of such crimes—her bright scheming finally taking her to their arrest.

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

Chapter 6: Rebuild

TOLD FROM WILBUR's POV

The air was heavy, oppressively thick, and it wasn't just the ash settling in my lungs that made every breath labored, but rather the weight of having to watch Tommy and Tubbo try to put together something that had been broken and shattered well beyond any remote sense of recognition or restoration. The farther on they went, crouching in the protective shadow of an old wall always apparently overlooking them as if about to fall over on them at any instant, the weight that slouched Tommy's shoulders beneath all that bluster and the trembling tension in Tubbo's hands, unfolding some meager remnants of the past he had kept hold of, could hardly have presented a greater contrast.

Pathetic, I told myself, yet the word somehow clung annoyingly to my mind, like the persistence of its meaning. And to be hard on myself, I didn't feel contempt, pure: rather some emotion all involute and complex, with so many sides I was half-afraid to put a name to it.

Immediately, Tommy looked away to the thing clutched tightly into Tubbo's hands: a burnt-out musical disc, Frankensteinish with the black edges curled and buckled from fire's unrelenting onslaught. In a second, I knew what it was just a tide of sadness flooded my mind: it was such a meaningful thing to him; his most prized possession harnessed a potent symbol, a reflection of him, shining brightly in the worst of times. Now, though, it was just another poignantly sweet relic of all that we'd lost along the way. For one brief second, he was wrapped in a cage of indecision. His hand jerked a fraction of an inch; he all but reached for it before he turned away. "What's the point, Tubbo?" he growled low, harsh, and strained. "It's ruined."

Tubbo didn't bat an eye. "So are we," he said matter-of-factly, still carrying that same damn optimism on his back, like some sort of lifeline in a sea of chaos.

I didn't nod in anger or helpless frustration from behind my screen of solitude; I merely listened. Blind, they had always been, and building and rebuilding meant little when the foundation could not be solid, or withstand a blow. Too emotional, too filled with hope for their good. In such a way, naivety shall eventually have them destroyed.

Again, Tommy spoke this time hard, steely, fine-edged by his determination. "I'm not quitting, Tubbo. Not on this matter. Not on us and what we share. I will build something so much better than in the past. I'll make it to last for very, very long."

I snort softly. Tommy had always been the dreamer, ever so convinced that he could break all molds of the real world and mold reality around himself. Admittedly, it was admirable-foolish but admirable.

Tubbo knelt beside him, setting the disc down with the tenderness one would show toward a holy artifact. "You don't have to do it alone," he said softly.

And then in an instant, Tommy was speechless, crouching with the silence, his eyes straining on out to the infinite, where the sun, bleeding it were into that infinite, smeared a great smear of gold and crimson across the sky and daubed it in all hues of the kaleidoscope upon the ruins. His jaw closed with the sternness of steel.

"I do," he said at last after some pause, in a perfectly steady, inexpressive tone. "If it's going to be worth anything, then it all must belong to me."

There it lay, simple and plain, before my eyes.

There was the weak point of his elaborately laid crack plain enough in the very foundation of his determination. I let my back slump against the unforgiving chill of the wall, a wry smile twisting my lips as my brain registered what was going on: he didn't know it, but I did this crazy struggle to break himself free from the ghost of what we had shared, from the importance I'd held in his life, he didn't realize he was chasing it still, with every ounce of strength in him. "You'll learn, Tommy; mark my words. One way or another, you will eventually learn."

Heaving a deep sigh, Tubbo ran a frustrated hand through his tangled, messy hair as he rose resolutely to his feet. "Fine, but don't you even think for one second that I'm going to leave you to this all by your lonesome. Like it or not, I'm right here, sticking around with you."

And then Tommy had turned to him, and in that dancing second, the flicker of a moment-something like gratitude shone in his eyes, but then it was gone, overtaken by the steely resolution that spoke so to the core of this man.

And now, as they turned back to labors and energies fixed on the tasks at hand, I slid deeper and deeper into the shadows, unseen by them, even. Let them struggle as violently as they would. Let them scratch and bleed and wear their fingers raw for those dreams and visions of theirs. I'd silently bide my time with silence and patience; then when the proper time came, I would, not stumbling, rise and be off.

It was never intended to restrain them or to mute their passions. Rather, it was intended to go along with them in their efforts and be of assistance. Because loyalty, for its sake-abstract of effort and constructive performance not yet created an entire great nation.

No. Not this time. Not now.

This time, I would make them know-how, however long it took. I would stand by them, an iron support however it would be possible, clinging onto them as a staunch and true ally. We could not let our family be torn once more at the seams, and most definitely not because of that disgusting, traitorous bitch named Y/N.

It was for them as much as for me.

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

Chapter 5: Betrayal

Suddenly, a voice breaks through the tension. "Y/N."

You turn, tears still in your eyes, and your face pales at the sight before you. Tubbo’s standing there, eyes wide, his usual calmness replaced by a look of shock. His hands are clenched tightly, his knuckles white, and he's fighting to hold his emotions and understand what he just saw. And then Tommy enters the scene, his eyes blazing with anger. He's furious, no, livid, his face flushed, his hands clenched into fists. He storms toward you, every step deliberate and filled with barely control.

"You—what did you—how could you—?" Tommy stammers, his words a mix of anger and disbelief. He struggles to form a coherent sentence, the volume of his voice rising with each word. Tubbo tries to say something, his voice soft, pleading, but his words are lost in the chaos that is Tommy's reaction. Tommy's close to you now, closer than you would like, and he's shaking with anger, his face inches away from yours. The anger in his eyes is intense, almost feral.

"Why?!" he bellows, his voice echoing across the remains of L'Manberg. "Why would you do this? After everything, after we trusted you—how could you betray us?"

His words hit you like a physical blow, driving the guilt deeper into your chest. You try to look away, to escape his gaze, but he grabs your arm, his fingers digging painfully into your skin.

"Look at me!" Tommy demands, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Look at me, and tell me why!" His voice is loud, booming, but there's a hint of pain there, of broken trust. He's not just furious—he's hurt.

"Look, I... I was tired of the fighting..." You stammered, guilt burning in your chest, your eyes darting away from theirs. How could you have been so blind? So foolish to think Dream’s plan could give you freedom when you should’ve known there was always a catch? L'Manberg was your home, the only place you ever belonged. And now you’d destroyed it. "Please... I didn’t mean to. I just... I wanted out—away from all this... away from the constant fighting..."

You blink hard, fighting to keep the tears from falling, your red, sleep-deprived eyes betraying the guilt that clung to you like a second skin.

Tommy’s gaze hardened, his face twisted in anger and disbelief. "Y/N!" His voice cracked, raw with emotion. "Did you think blowing up our home was gonna end the fighting? Did you think destroying everything we’ve worked for would somehow make it all better? We built this place from the ground up, and you just... you blew it up right in front of our fucking eyes!"

You flinch at the venom in his voice, the stinging truth of his words like salt in a fresh wound. He’s right. Gods, he’s right. What excuse could you possibly give that will make any of this ok?

"I... I just wanted it to stop," you plead, your voice quiet, defeated. "The fighting, the wars, the endless cycle—I thought...."

Tubbo speaks up then, his voice soft and quivering. "You thought it would make it all go away? That it would somehow bring us peace?"

Wilbur just stood there, his anger only thinly veiled. He stood still, almost unnervingly for a moment, before he spoke, his voice cold, ringing out throughout the ruins. "You- You are a traitor. A traitor to L'Manberg. It's over, Y/N. On to a new day."

His words hung in the air, heavy and accusing, a sharp edge cutting through the stillness of the ruins. The wind whispered through the broken stone as if the very landscape was holding its breath.

The tension between you was palpable. The weight of Wilbur's gaze was almost unbearable as if the accusation itself could strike with force. You try to remain as if you weren't affected or hurt by his words, but the way you glanced at the ground below you told a different story. You wish you could turn back time, wish you could hit rewind, to go back to when L'Manberg was whole, to those amazing memories that now lay shattered and forgotten, your friendship dissipating into oblivion before your very eyes. You turned on your heel and left.

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

Chapter 4: All my Marionettes

"Did you notice the marionette strings around your wrists?

Or did you just forget that I existed?"

Then, just as you try to calm yourself, you hear it.

A faint click.

The sound is soft, almost imperceptible at first, but then, as if it’s drawing you in, it sharpens, becoming louder, more deliberate. Your head snaps toward the sound, and suddenly, there’s a shimmer of light ahead. The dark walls of Limbo part in response, opening to reveal a glowing portal. It’s not much—a crack in the darkness, a soft light spilling through—but it beckons, like a lifeline.

You don’t hesitate. You stand, despite the coldness gnawing at you, and step toward the light. Your feet feel heavier than before as if the air itself is pulling you back, but you push through it, one step at a time. Each step feels like it takes forever, and the ground beneath your feet seems to shift unnaturally, distorting the very space around you.

As you reach the portal, you step through it, your surroundings warping, folding in on themselves. The darkness of Limbo is replaced with flashes of light, the sound of rushing wind in your ears, and a sharp pull in your chest.

When you open your eyes again, you're no longer in the void. The first thing you notice is the unmistakable scent of fresh air—earthy, damp, and alive. The air feels different here, lighter. You blink rapidly, taking in your surroundings, and immediately your heart skips a beat. The familiar sight of the land outside L'Manberg greets you, but something is wrong. You’re no longer in Limbo. No, you’ve respawned. But the world feels… off.

The ground is cracked, the sky is an unnatural shade of red, and there’s a tension in the air, an oppressive weight that wasn’t there before. The world looks like it’s been scarred by something much worse than just the destruction you caused. And then you hear it.

“Well, well, well.”

The voice cuts through the eerie silence, a mocking tone laced with something darker beneath it. You freeze, heart pounding in your chest. You know that voice.

Turning slowly, your eyes lock with Dream’s. He stands there, just beyond the ruins of what used to be L'Manberg, his figure silhouetted against the fiery backdrop. His mask conceals his expression, but you can see the glint of amusement in his eyes—the kind of amusement that doesn't bode well for anyone standing in his path.

“So, look who’s back from the dead,” Dream says, stepping forward. His voice is casual, almost too casual as if he’s been waiting for this moment. "You've sacrificed your first life... to join the victors. Welcome back."

“You did it, didn’t you?” Dream’s voice is calm, almost eerily so. The words are not accusatory, but the underlying judgment in them stabs deep into you, like a blade twisted in your gut.

You open your mouth, but the words don’t come. You’ve made your choice. There’s no excuse for what you’ve done, no justifying it. Not to Dream. Not to anyone.

He steps forward, closing the distance between you with every deliberate stride. The sound of his boots crunching against the debris is too loud in the silence.

A bitter laugh escapes your lips, though it feels hollow and wrong. “You gave me the choice,” you say, the words feeling alien in your mouth. You remember the letter. Make the move. If you want out, now is the time. It was supposed to be a way to escape, a way to leave the madness behind. Now, all that remains is the destruction you’ve caused.

Dream tilts his head, studying you with an unsettling intensity. “You think you can just walk away from this? That there’s no price to pay for what you’ve done?” His voice lowers, the words turning darker. “You’ve betrayed everyone you’ve ever known. Tommy. Tubbo. Wilbur. They trusted you. And now look what you’ve done.”

The mention of their names cuts deeper than anything else. A stab of guilt twists inside you, but you push it down, squashing the feeling beneath the surface. They made their choices. You made yours. It was never meant to be.

“You don’t know what it’s like Dream,” you mutter, eyes downcast, unwilling to meet his gaze. “To be caught between two sides, with no way to win. No way to belong.” Your voice shakes, betraying the doubt you thought you buried long ago. “I was just... tired.”

“Tired?” Dream scoffs, the sound almost mocking. He steps closer still, his green eyes burning with that unyielding focus. “You think the world cares that you’re tired? Do you think any of this was for you? This was never about you, Y/N.” His use of your name makes your blood run cold. “This was about power. About control. And now you’re just another pawn who thought they could escape the game.”

You shiver. You lost the trust of everyone. Just to become one of Dream's marionettes. No better than Eret, no better than his Dreamons. Even if you turned back now, L'Manberg would never accept you. But you didn't let Dream see your torment. You stood there, unnervingly still. "Then let it be so." You turned on your heel and walked away.

You gather your dropped things before they get stolen away by the skies. As you did, right in the ruins of L'Manberg, you checked to see if the coast was clear before you wept. Oh, to think that you were just a pawn and Dream was just playing you, just controlling you, like a clever puppeteer, pulling the strings. The tears stained the ashes before fading into nothingness. Then unmistakable footsteps were heard behind you.

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

Chapter 3: You.

You awake with a sharp, sudden jolt—your chest heaving with the instinct to breathe, but there’s no air. No ground beneath your feet. Only an endless, oppressive darkness.

Your eyes snap open, but nothing changes. The black void stretches infinitely in every direction, an emptiness so absolute it feels suffocating. Then you hear it—soft, distant, echoing in the silence. The faint crackling of torches.

You turn in the direction of the sound, and sure enough, a dim, flickering glow emerges from the darkness, like a small hope in the distance. You take a step toward it, your feet not quite touching the ground, but somehow still propelling you forward. You have no choice but to move, drawn to that dim light. It’s the only thing that promises some kind of clarity, something more than the endless, suffocating void.

As you walk, the darkness around you seems to grow less oppressive, the path ahead revealing itself slowly, the shadows pulling back. You move toward the torches, but as you approach, the space before you opens into something else entirely—something you weren’t expecting.

It’s a large, empty room, walls extending impossibly high, a cavernous expanse that stretches farther than you can see. The ground beneath you is smooth and solid, though the air is cold, unwelcoming. The torches lining the walls cast long, wavering shadows, but there’s no warmth to them, no life. The faint glow only serves to highlight the vast, lonely emptiness around you.

Limbo.

This is what they had warned you about. The place between life and death. The place where souls drift, waiting for the judgment of what they have done in the world of the living. You feel the weight of it settle on your chest like a stone. No one else is here—not yet. But you can’t shake the feeling that you’re not entirely alone. There are whispers in the air, soft echoes that speak of things you don’t understand.

You take a few more steps, the space around you distorting just slightly with each movement. The ground feels like it shifts beneath your feet, but it doesn’t—limbo has no rules, no constant. It exists outside of time, outside of the world you knew.

You’ve been here before. Not physically, but mentally. This is where the souls of the fallen go before they are sent back to the world of the living, or… perhaps to a final, irreversible end. You don’t know which. But you know this place is not kind. It does not forgive. And here, in this place, you will have to face the consequences of everything you’ve done.

You sit in the vast emptiness, heart still pounding in your chest. The darkness around you is cold, disorienting, and, for a long moment, you can't shake the feeling that you're drifting—adrift in an endless space between life and death, between everything you've known and the consequences of your actions.

No, you think, trying to anchor yourself in the reality of your situation. I’ve only lost my first life. I should be sent back. Soon. They said this is temporary. Just a waiting room. I’ll return. I have to return.

You press your palms into the cold, hard ground beneath you, the smooth stone feeling strangely alien beneath your fingertips. The shadows stretch and warp in unnatural directions, but you force your mind to focus, to stay grounded, to remind yourself of one simple truth: you’ve only lost your first life.

Just one. One life out of three.

You feel a force compelling you to go up. You bade farewell to your limbo, as you feel yourself respawn and find your lost things, awaiting the judgment, the terrible shouting voices, the possible violence of your friends. You thought this was just some waiting room, but the costs never really went away.

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

Chapter 2: Dawn

Dawn has come over the horizon as you make your way toward the heart of L'Manberg. The ground rumbles beneath your feet, the tension rising in the air with every step. It feels like everyone is preparing for a final stand. You know that this could be the moment that breaks it all wide open—the end of L'Manberg, the end of the rebellion. And you’ll be the one to deliver that blow. You smile at yourself, pleased with your decision. The TNT was all set — 16 blocks beneath L'Mantree and 3 more beneath each citizen's house. Including yours to not raise suspicions. You could rebuild it in a few days if you wanted to.

You reach the designated location: beneath the main walls of L'Manberg, near the large tower where Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo often meet to discuss their plans. You know they’re busy with preparations for their next move—everyone is too focused on the immediate danger to realize you’re right here, right under their noses.

The TNT is ready. The fuses are in place. You set the charges with a careful, deliberate hand. And then... you hesitate.

The thought crosses your mind, unbidden. What if this is a mistake? What if you’re wrong? The people of L'Manberg—Tommy, Tubbo, Wilbur—they trust you. They think you’re one of them. How will they feel when they realize what you’ve done?

But it doesn’t matter. Down to the revolution, it was never meant to be.

They made their choice. You made yours. And now it was time.​

You step back, eyes scanning the shadows. There’s no going back now. You light the fuse.

The explosion rips through the night like a thunderclap. The ground shakes violently beneath you. A column of fire erupts from the center of L'Manberg, sending debris and smoke billowing into the air. The sound is deafening, and you can feel the heat radiating from the blast even from this distance.

It’s done. You collapse on your knees, both in regret and excitement. You just blew up everything, and it was thrilling.

Their berating voices came just barely before the explosion. Your head was clouded with all sorts of thoughts, some of regret, some of satisfaction. You loved to see L'Manberg burn. What you didn't love was to see your friends shouting at you, calling you a traitor.

The sense of victory you felt disappeared almost entirely. It was true. You were just a traitor. It was never meant to be.

The seconds dragged by into what felt like an eternity. You just knelt there, motionless, eyes wide, heart hammering in your chest as the countdown to your death ticked away. The weight of what you’d done, of the destruction you’d caused, loomed over you like an executioner's axe. You had no choice but to wait. Wait for the explosion to take you out of this world, to take the consequences of your actions with you.

The heat was unbearable. You could feel the air growing heavier with each passing second, a suffocating pressure pressing down on your lungs. The ground beneath you trembled violently as the TNT you’d set in motion detonated, the blast ringing out with a deafening roar. And then, in the blink of an eye, the world turned to fire.

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the impact, and for a moment, you couldn’t even hear your thoughts—just the ferocious whine of the explosion ripping through the very fabric of the land. The heat scorched your skin, the force of the blast raking through your body like a thousand knives. It felt like hours, maybe centuries even, but in reality, it was only moments.

Then, there it was—the crushing sensation of everything burning away. A searing wave of pain enveloped you, blisters rising across your skin as the world fractured into shards of blinding light. Your breath was stolen away, and for a moment, there was only nothing.

Your first life. Gone.

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

Chapter 1: The Night Before

You stand alone on the outskirts of L'Manberg, the great walls of the nation rising before you like a monument to both freedom and tyranny. The scent of smoke lingers—another skirmish, fight, and casualty. The war has been dragging on for what feels like forever, and you can’t say you haven’t gotten used to the chaos. The lines between right and wrong have blurred, and the ideals you once fought for have been lost beneath the weight of betrayal, ambition, and a thirst for power.

But there’s something in the air tonight that feels different. The usual sounds of hammers, pickaxes, and swords clashing have faded, leaving only the distant echoes of explosions. You know the next battle is coming, and you know where you stand. But this—this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. The moment that will decide everything.

You glance at the letter in your hand. It’s from Dream. There’s no ambiguity in it. No room for second-guessing. “Make the move. If you want out, now is the time.”

You crumple the paper and stuff it into your pocket, your hands shaking slightly. It’s time. No turning back.

Behind you, L'Manberg stands like a beacon, but the truth burns hotter inside you than any loyalty you once had. You’ve been playing the long game, keeping your true intentions hidden, watching as Wilbur and Tommy burn themselves out with every explosive decision, while Dream’s forces wait in the shadows, ready to strike.

But tonight... tonight you make your choice. The plan was simple: plant the TNT in the right places, light the fuses, and get out before the chaos hits. Dream had given you the coordinates—his spies had already infiltrated the lower levels of L'Manberg. No one would suspect a thing, not with the way everyone was distracted by the rebellion.

You walk to the secret tunnel that leads to the heart of L'Manberg, the once-proud nation of freedom now reduced to a symbol of conflict. You take a deep breath as you open the door, stepping inside with only the faintest of lights to guide you. The air is damp and stale, the underground chambers too quiet for comfort. This is where it happens. The collapse. The destruction. The final blow.

You hear a rustle ahead. Footsteps. Quick and deliberate. You tense, but it's just Fundy—his orange fur glinting in the dim light, his eyes suspicious as they lock onto yours.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, voice low, but sharp. His tail flicks nervously, but he’s not yet alarmed. He’s just cautious, and that’s what you need. Caution.

You smile, but it’s cold. "I’m just... checking on something." You don’t make eye contact. Your hands twitch as the weight of the TNT in your inventory presses down on you.

He narrows his eyes, stepping closer. "You sure about that? The plan’s supposed to be tight. You know, Dream might not like it if things go wrong."

"Don’t worry," you say, your voice almost too calm. "Everything's under control."

Fundy doesn’t seem convinced, but you see his hesitance. He opens his mouth to say something, but then hesitates, looking you over carefully. "If you’re sure..." He trails off, stepping back slowly.

"Get some rest," you say, giving him a reassuring grin. "Everything’s fine."

He stares at you for a moment longer before nodding, not fully trusting you, but not suspicious enough to stop you. He turns and walks off, disappearing into the darkness.

The moment he’s gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. One step closer. You’ve crossed a line that can never be uncrossed.

You turn back to the tunnel entrance. The TNT is tucked safely in your inventory. All it takes now is a little spark. You smirk as you imagine the chaos that would ensue. This would be glorious.

P.S.: I made this story with my friend on Quotev so go check it out! I'll update it regularly along with the Quotev, Wattpad, and AO3 one, so if you love this story, support it along with this one! Quotev: https://www.quotev.com/story/16822184/Betrayer-of-Dreams/1 Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/385843901-betrayer-of-dreams AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60987706/chapters/155800645

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

New story!

Hello! I am here to announce that I have a new story on the Dream SMP with my friend! I will update it (dw about me abandoning it like my previous fic) daily! I already have the first 5 so enjoy!

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

just finished mine, though i don't think I see my name on this

Edit: I see it now

❁ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 & 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘𝐌𝐈𝐗𝐓

❀ event will start and end July 1 to July 31; 2024.

❀ if you would like to be a writer for this event, send an ask (with anon off) / comment and we’ll soon message you with a response! ANY FANDOM is welcome and we’re only accepting x reader.

❀ we would like as much as possible for the fic to be due on time as your day, but don’t stress about it!

❀ taglist will be out soon for people who want to be notified of a new fic.

❀ any empty days will be filled out at the end of the event.

❀ subjects such as pedoph!l!@, extreme gore, !ncest, sc@t, ddlg, r@pe, etc., etc. (up to common sense) are not allowed. NSFW IS ALLOWED, but minors please do NOT interact with those.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 ‘𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒:

𝟏: 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝟐: 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝟑: 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭

𝟒: 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 - @fictional-gf ; itoshi sae (blue lock)

𝟓: 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭

𝟔: 𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐞 - @muichiro-tokito-1710 ; muichiro tokito (demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba)

𝟕: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 - @kitkat-moon ; dabi (my hero academia)

𝟖: 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 - @mu1nfinityx ; muichiro tokito (demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba)

𝟗: 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 - @nursedflowers ; tamaki amajiki (my hero academia)

𝟏𝟎: 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬

𝟏𝟏: 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 - @chasani ; fortunato (the cask of amontillado)

𝟏𝟐: 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 - @mu1nfinityx ; inosuke hashibira (demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba)

𝟏𝟑: 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜

𝟏𝟒: 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐧

𝟏𝟓: 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

𝟏𝟔: 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧/𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

𝟏𝟕: 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - @strawberrymixt ; kaito momota (danganronpa v3/killing harmony)

𝟏𝟖: 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 - @nursedflowers ; toru oikawa (haikyuu!!) / hajime iwaizumi (haikyuu!!)

𝟏𝟗: 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞

𝟐𝟎: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝-𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞/𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐡

𝟐𝟏: 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐲 - @nursedflowers ; giyu tomioka (demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba)

𝟐𝟐: 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭

𝟐𝟑: 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞

𝟐𝟒: 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬

𝟐𝟓: 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥

𝟐𝟔: 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 - @shionancientsblog ; riddle roseheart (twisted wonderland)

𝟐𝟕: 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝟐𝟖: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 - @stressforu ; rin itoshi (blue lock)

𝟐𝟗: 𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 - @mu1nfinityx ; tanjiro kamado (demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba)

𝟑𝟎: 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 - @strawberrymixt ; mikan tsumiki (danganronpa 2/goodbye despair)

𝟑𝟏: 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 - @strawberrymixt ; shuichi saihara (danganronpa v3/killing harmony)

comment any questions ; REBLOGS are appreciated! summer divider by: soulari

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

Hello! Just a reminder here, your day for the summer event is today! <3

oh god, i forgot, I'm doing it now. TW: Fem! Y/n, Aged up Muichiro and Y/N, modern AU At the Cafe where we met Y/N didn't believe it herself. Her crush, Muichiro, asked her out on a date! When she got the note to meet him at 6 P.M. at her house from her locker, she almost fainted, only held up by her two besties, Kanao and Nezuko, who were very excited about their girl's first-ever date, and with her crush too! The second school ended, Nezuko and Kanao insisted that Y/N go on a shopping spree with them so that she would have something lovely to wear for her first date. Store after store, none fit her well. At the final store, when the trio was about to give up, they found a lovely puff-sleeved dress with a floral print. Your long black and silky hair and emerald eyes look perfect for your first date with Muichiro! The two girls help Y/N style her hair in the nicest way possible to balance out the cute outfit she has. They even helped her choose the eye shadow, lipstick, eyeliner, etc. Y/N really appreciates their help and promises to help them like they helped her on their first date. Then, he arrived. Muichiro came knocking at Y/N's door with a car to take her out to the date. Nezuko and Kanao wish Y/N good luck on her first date as they go back home. As Muichiro complimented her eyes and opened the car door for her, she couldn't help but blush. He's her crush after all, and he asked her out. When they arrived at the cafe, Muichiro ordered a mocha latte for him and Y/N ordered her usual cappuccino. While waiting, Y/N and Muichiro got to know each other much better, as she found out that Muichiro still likes making paper airplanes, and that they both listen to the same kind of music, K-Pop. Muichiro: "You know, you and I have a lot more in common than I first thought, Y/N" Y/N: "Th-thanks Mui, I think we're a pretty good match together" Oh no, what was I saying, I wasn't trying to say that, she thought. But instead of the disgusted expression Y/N was expecting, she got a chuckle from Muichiro as he said. Muichiro: "Really? Well, I think so too." A/N: I'm sorry, I didn't proof read this thing, and I think it's a bit short

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

Demon slayer Incorect quotes

A/nn: it's 9:44 where I live but I'm doing this because I love you guys, ok? (Don't make it sound weird)

Muichiro, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him Shinobu: You did WHAT– Obanai: William Snakepeare

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

5 posts! Thank you for the support y'all gave me throughout the few days I joined!

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

random kny incorrect quote because yes

Tanjiro: Inosuke and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

Zenitsu: *Sighing* What did Inosuke do?

Tanjiro: They chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Inosuke: Who wants a steering wheel?

[muichiro-tokito-1710]

Part 2: A life of lies

TW: modern AU, female YN, betrayal, a bit of gore.

fter you saw Zenitsu's body that day, you kept your mouth shut about the crime and Muichiro kept his side of the promise and didn't murder or kidnap anyone else that you know. Later on, you forgot about the incident and moved on. It's been two years since the incident. A boy named Murata joined the gang with us after Zenitsu "disappeared". If you hadn't been so oblivious, you would have noticed he is developing quite a crush with you.

That day, you found a note in my locker, asking to meet up with you under the big cherry tree in the school grounds. There's been a rumor around it that whoever that confesses under the tree will get a guaranteed relationship. You show a slight blush as you knew about this rumor. It didn't have a signature either, so you talked about it with Nezuko, Kanao and Aoi. They all encourage you to go and meet the secret person.

Unfortunately, Muichiro was also near, and from the look of his gaze, you don't think the person that wants to confess isn't going to see the light of day again. Sadly, you are quite oblivious, like said before, so you didn't see Muichiro giving the note a death glare, like trying to decipher the hand writing to find who he had to kill.

That afternoon, you walked out to the cherry blossom tree and saw Murata. But, he's not breathing, with a stab wound at his heart. Blood splattered all over the pretty fallen cherry flowers, like a pure soul lost to a monster. Flash backs of Zenitsu's death came rushing back after being dormant for 2 years. At the body, you see Muichiro cleaning up the site but with some few other familiar faces there....

"Nezuko....Kanao...Aoi....."