#an occurrence! you have gained 2 'new tags' - your count is now 2

[uniquezombiedestiny]

its going great in fallen london so far

[spencersmagic]

a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

**

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

**

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

**

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :) 

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x​ @spencerreid-mgg​​ @eoupe​ @inlovewithbabygirl​ @galaxydefenderjulia​ @username2002​

[javier-pena]

alone

Chapter 1 of The Hunt

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Rating: Mature (for now but that will - spoilers! - change eventually)

Summary: When your best friend and companion is abducted by a group of outlaws, you hire a Mandalorian to help track down the men and get your revenge. What seems like a simple enough task stretches into a month-long trek through inhospitable terrain while both you and the Mandalorian are trying to come to terms with events in your past you cannot change. Set after Season 2.

Warnings: mentions (and short descriptions) of death, murder, and torture | a lot of hurt and no comfort | mentions of loss | mild to moderate language | a lot - and I mean A LOT - of talk about Din’s hands lmao

Notes: This is my first attempt at a Mandalorian fic and the first time in months I’ve written anything. It’s vaguely inspired by my favorite western movies, True Grit (1969/2010), The Quick and the Dead (1995), and The World to Come (2020). So yes, this is going to be very much like a western. I also want to - again - thank Dani @javierpcna​ who was like “are you writing Mandalorian stuff?” about a month ago and has, since then, read through this chapter more often than me and encouraged me to continue to write it and offered so much valuable insight whenever I came to her with an idea ... seriously, Dani, this fic wouldn’t exist without you and I hope I can find a way to repay you! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this first chapter (I’m already working on the second one) ...

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The day the Mandalorian arrives on Alvorine is the day you lose your best friend. You’re still busy putting out the fire, running your soot-blackened hand across your face, where the dirt mingles with the tears you’re too tired to stop from streaming down your face, when you hear the thrusters of a spacecraft roaring above you. You barely glance up; you can’t be bothered to. It could be the remnants of the Empire looking for recruits, it could be the New Republic looking for the remnants of the Empire, or it could be the bandits coming back for more. But what do you care? They already took away the one person you care most about in the galaxy. You just grip the shovel tighter and drive it into the soil so you can choke the fire underneath moist stones and dirt.

While you exhaust your body with physical labor, you occupy your mind with thoughts of revenge. Revenge as dark and quenching as the soil beneath you. With every load of dirt you heave onto the searing flames, your plan gains another sharp edge until all you can think of is driving the cutting edge down onto the throat of the man who gripped Brea’s arm and pulled her onto the speeder bike. Maybe his head would come off right away, maybe your tool would just obstruct his windpipe as you watch the life drain slowly out of his eyes. And even that would be too good an end for that monster.

It’s not just in your mind – those thoughts aren’t simply there to ground you while you continue your work in the ruins of what was once your home. It’s not pure fantasy, something to give you back a feeling of control. You are determined to follow through on it; you are going to hunt down these men who burned down your farm and stole Brea from you. You will not rest until they are all dead by your hand. And if you should die in the process … then you won’t go out without a fight, without taking as many of those bastards with you as you can. They have sealed their own fate by coming here today.

You know Brea isn’t dead; they won’t kill her unless she tries to kill one of them first. And she wouldn’t do that, she is too gentle for that, too docile. She would rather turn the other cheek. They should have taken you instead; she doesn’t deserve the fate that awaits her. You would’ve at least put up a fight, make them pay for what they did. And Brea? She would just die.

For now, she’s alive. But whatever you set out to do once you’re done here won’t be a rescue mission. You aren’t under the illusion you can save her. You know that even if you were to leave right now, even if you had your own speeder bike, you would never find her in time. No, this possibility hasn’t even crossed your mind. All you want to do is cause these men more pain than they caused you. You know it is impossible because you cannot imagine anything worse, but you sure as hell will do your best.

You straighten your back, drive the shovel into the ground, and use it as support while you try to catch your breath. The air burns in your lungs, and not just from the cold. There is also the steadily rising black smoke that makes breathing hard; your throat stings, so do your sides, and there is a bitter taste in your mouth. But you’re almost finished here, you’re almost done putting out the fire, so it won’t endanger the surrounding forest. And with every flame you bury, you also bury a piece of your soul until you feel like there is nothing left that makes you human, until all the pain and despair you’re feeling since listening to Brea’s screams grow quieter and quieter until they were swallowed up by silence has turned into a cold, brazen cry for revenge. But you’re glad this has made you less forgiving, less kind, less … human. Those things would only get in the way of the task ahead of you.

As the last flames go out with a wet hiss, one of Alvorine’s three blue white suns vanishes behind the treetops. You know the other two will be quick to follow. And you don’t have anywhere to spend the night. You wouldn’t mind sleeping with your back propped against a tree. You’ve done it often enough. But it’s winter, and the air is already cold and will be even colder once the other two suns set too. And you just lost every blanket, every single piece of fabric that could keep you warm in a small inferno. You know this is just an excuse, a comforting lie you tell yourself. The truth is you cannot spend a minute longer on this clearing, even if that means you have to walk the four miles to the next settlement. You’re so exhausted you cannot feel your legs, but you don’t care. Anything is better than spending the night here, even collapsing in the middle of the dark forest.

You leave the shovel where you stand and walk to the edge of the clearing, swallowing around the lump in your throat, trying to hold down more tears that are threatening to spill over and down your cheeks. Once you reach the edge of the forest, where the air is a bit clearer, you take a deep breath and turn around to look at the ruins of your home, now nothing more than a black pile of rubble. You have nothing, nothing but the clothes you’re wearing, not even a small trinket to remind you of Brea and the many happy hours you spent here tending to your fields, sweeping the front porch or sitting around the fireplace sharing supper. Even remembering how you worked on menial chores now feels like the most precious memory, one you will hold onto until your last breath. Because even though they have taken everything from you, they can’t take away the memory of Brea’s laugh.

***

They stare at you as you enter the inn. They stare and then look away. They can’t bear your presence because it reminds them of their own guilt. Not one of them came to your aid this morning, not one of them came afterwards to offer help. And you ignore them too because there is nothing left to say. All you want is some food and a dry place to sleep before you turn your back on them forever.

You sit down at a small table in a dark corner. The patrons around you either turn their backs to you or stand up to move their meals and conversations someplace else. It’s as if you’ve been marked. If you had any strength left in you, you would call them out on their behavior. Shit, you would wreak havoc, and only stop when the last one of them is on their knees begging for forgiveness. But you’re glad you’re too exhausted because your sudden hatred for everyone and everything scares you. The villagers don’t deserve to fall victim to your rage. There is nothing they could’ve done. They are just as defenseless and helpless as you. Would you have come to their aid if your positions were reversed? You would like to think so, but just because it gives you a false sense of moral superiority. Deep down you know the truth. Deep down you know you would hide too, praying that you would be spared.

As you dig into your bowl of soup, you realize how hungry you are. Even though everything tastes like ash in your mouth, your stomach is glad to have something to clench around when your thoughts stray to this morning’s events again. And you know there’s no need to punish yourself by refusing your body the nourishment it needs. The opposite, in fact – you know you’ll need all the strength you can get if you’re really going after them.

As you swallow one ashy bite after the other, you let your eyes wander around the room, looking for something that will distract you from your thoughts and your feelings of guilt. Everyone avoids your gaze; everyone acts as if your corner is empty. Everyone … except one stranger.

He sits in a booth close to the bar, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze on you. Or at least you think he’s looking at you – he’s wearing a helmet that covers his entire head, the kind you’ve seen twice before in this corner of the galaxy. He’s a Mandalorian, a bounty hunter, and his presence here doesn’t really surprise you. Even though actually seeing one is a rare occurrence, stories about them are countless.

Alvorine is a planet without laws, a planet that lives by its own rules, so many criminals decide to hide out here while they wait for their crimes to be forgotten. There is no military presence on the planet, no judicial system, no one to catch and punish the wrongdoers. The planet follows the rules of whoever is in charge, which changes frequently, but none of the powerful people have enough resources to enforce those rules anyway. Disputes are often just settled by the parties involved in whatever way they see fit. Only the Mandalorians, who are hired by people on other worlds, by people who have never experienced what it is like to live on Alovrine, are brave enough to get involved in those disputes. You have to admit you do feel a tiny bit curious as to why that particular Mandalorian is here ... who hired him? And who is he hunting?

You tentatively let your gaze wander over his stoic body, over the beskar covering his arms and chest, over the bandolier wrapped around his upper body, over the visor hiding his eyes. If you had one like him on your side, you wouldn’t need to worry about getting your revenge. He would catch those men in the blink of an eye. And if you paid him enough, he would do to them whatever you wanted.

He would cut off their limbs but keep them alive long enough to feel it.

He would make them run for it, give them the illusion of hope, only to crush it like their bones.

He would let you watch, let you choose whatever punishment you saw fit.

You shift in your seat because you can almost smell the blood, you can hear a faint echo of their screams, and it makes you feel light-headed and nauseous, but also elevates you, lifts a weight off your shoulders, even if just for a brief moment.

But he’s not here to do your bidding. And when you lift your head again, he’s gone.

You finish your bowl of soup and then decide to rent a room upstairs for the night. You don’t have a place to stay anymore and it’s too dangerous to start your pursuit while it’s dark. The forest belongs to dangerous creatures during the night, more dangerous than any man out there. And you’re planning on staying alive for just a little while longer.

You stretch and yawn and move to get up when your path is suddenly blocked. It happens so fast you don’t register anything at first apart from the cold, hard beskar chest plate that is level with your face. Its unexpected appearance makes you lose your balance and you fall back down onto the bench you’ve been sitting on. The Mandalorian extends his hand, his fingers closing around thin air. It’s a half-hearted attempt to stop your fall, and it comes too late – your backside has already painfully collided with the hard wood.

“May I join you?” His voice sounds distorted through the modulator in his helmet. He sounds like a machine, not like a being with a heartbeat.

You want to tell him no, want to tell him to fuck off, but for tonight you have no fight left in you. So you nod.

He sits down and you expect to hear the clink of his armor, expect to feel a tremor when his heavy body comes to rest on a stool opposite you. But there is no sound, no movement, and the lack makes you sit up straighter. This isn’t just another cowardly villager you can get rid of by glaring at him … this is an apex predator.

You swallow with some difficulty. “Can I help you?” you ask, your voice level, your eyes resting on his glove-clad hands lying on the table. You figure you’re safe as long as you can see them.

At first, he doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you. Or at least you think he’s looking at you. You cannot see his eyes behind the tinted visor. No matter how uncomfortable the situation makes you feel, you try not to move … you try not to show any sign of weakness, to give him any excuse to lunge across the table and strangle you.

Finally, he answers. “I’m looking for work.”

Now you cannot help but move. You exhale sharply, and with that release of breath comes a release of tension as you slump backwards, your back hitting the wall behind you. You cross your arms over your chest. “I can’t help you,” you say. You don’t have any work to offer him, no work worthy of the skills of a Mandalorian who usually hunts down important people, kings, merchants, people who influence the course of the galaxy’s history. Following a few lowly bandits is not the work he’s used to. You don’t even want to tell him about it because you know he’d take it as an insult. And even if - by some miracle - your quest for revenge would be deemed a worthy cause in the eyes of the Mandalorian, you couldn’t afford his services.

The slightest movement of his helmet is the only reaction your answer gets out of him. Whether he shifts because he’s surprised or because he’s angry, or whether his scalp itches under the metal you cannot tell.

Still, you feel the need to explain yourself. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any money.”

Shit, that’s the wrong thing to say. It implies you have work for him, but that you’re too poor to pay him. For all you know, this could be a grave insult in Mandalorian society.

His fingers on the table clench around thin air again. “What can you offer?” he asks.

He doesn’t want to know about the job, the quarry as you know they call it. No, he just wants to know how much he can earn.

“240 credits,” you answer. It’s all you have. You won’t need it anymore.

He tilts his head and you expect him to refuse, but then he says, “That’s enough.”

You’re taken aback, surprised. He’s caught you off-guard. You were fully prepared to see him walk away at hearing the ridiculously low amount of money you just offered. “You don’t even know what the job is,” you protest. The last thing you need is a Mandalorian hunting you down because you’re not paying him enough.

“They told me,” he says with a nod behind him.

You follow the movement with your eyes and see heads whip to the side, gazes wandering downwards, you notice conversations being picked up again. White hot fury fills you, more powerful than the flames that destroyed your house.

“They had no right,” you press out through clenched teeth.

The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything. He sits still like a statue, unwavering, as you fight a small battle with yourself. You should leave without looking back. Messing with a Mandalorian is even more dangerous than the task ahead of you. But he’s offering you something invaluable, something no amount of credits can get you: a chance. If you go alone, you’ll be dead in about a week. There’s no use pretending you’ll get out of it alive. But if you accept the Mandalorian’s help – his services, you have to remind yourself – you might make it through two. You might get to see your dreams of revenge become reality.

You sigh deeply as a heavy weariness settles over you. You’re exhausted, and now that all the adrenaline has left your body, you can feel all the small cuts and bruises today’s labors have left behind. And you feel empty … cold and empty, and utterly alone.

The Mandalorian still doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t defend the villagers, he doesn’t tell you what he knows about you or the job, he doesn’t try to persuade you to take him up on his offer, nor does he walk away from it. He just sits there and waits for you to make up your mind, as if it’s all the same to him. And it probably is. Either he goes with you and earns some money, or he doesn’t and looks for work elsewhere. He is completely detached from the whole affair. There is no emotional investment, just a job that needs to be done.

He doesn’t care if you live or die, he just cares if you pay him or not.

This realization is what finally helps you make up your mind. “I want to hire you,” you say, your tongue heavy in your mouth. All you really want is to sleep.

There is no reaction for the longest time but then the Mandalorian nods. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to say something, give him details or explain the specifics of the job to him. But before you can decide what to say next, he stands abruptly.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” he says before turning around.

Your brain needs a moment to catch up but when it does, you’re already on your feet. “Wait,” you say, and to your surprise the broad, steel-clad man listens to you.

He doesn’t face you, but he stops.

You briefly consider asking him if you can accompany him, but you don’t. You don’t have to ask, you get to decide.

“I’m coming with you,” you tell him.

You tell a stranger, a dangerous one at that, one who makes his money by making other people’s lives a living hell, that you will travel with him through dark, deserted forests where no one will stop him from taking what he wants from you instead of earning it, where no one will come to your aid should he not honor the deal you apparently just made with him. And you don’t care. Because no matter what he will do to you, it can’t be worse than what has already been done.

But all your worries and fears focus in on just one tiny aspect of this whole, fucked-up situation when he says, “I work alone.”

You don’t want to negotiate. This shouldn’t even be up for debate. You’re his employer now, you get to decide how things are done. But if you insist on this, he could just walk away from you. And you cannot let that happen now that you’ve had an idea of what it would be like to have a Mandalorian on your side.

“We’re not a team,” you say. “Think of me as an interested party. As someone who is fascinated by your work.”

You’re not sure if that is the right thing to say. His shoulders move, but he still doesn’t turn around. When he speaks again, you know it was the wrong thing to say.

“I work alone or not at all.”

You don’t want to accept that. You want to be there when those men are punished for what they did. You don’t want to wait around for the Mandalorian to come back, not when you don’t have anywhere to wait around in. You’ve lost everything. Had he talked to the villagers as he claims, he would know this. Or maybe he does. Maybe he knows you lost your home today but doesn’t care. He doesn’t even know the definition of the word home. It means nothing to him.

You take a deep breath. “Then I won’t be needing your services.”

This finally makes him turn around. Everything in you screams for you to take a few steps back, to put yourself out of his reach. You can feel the atmosphere between you shift – he draws back his shoulders, makes himself even taller than he already is. And you know, you just know, that refusing his offer, that backtracking on your agreement is the worst mistake you made tonight.

You’re pretty sure that not honoring a deal is the worst insult to a Mandalorian.

“Going alone will be your death,” he says when you cannot bear the tension a second longer.

“What’s it to you?”

The words are out. They are a challenge, one you didn’t mean to make, one you shouldn’t have made, but it’s done now. Your hand begins to tremble, and your feet grow cold with fear as you prepare yourself for his reaction. You don’t know if he will hit you, tie you up, torture you, or just kill you on the spot. He could do all of these things without having to fear any repercussions. You curse yourself for not having been more careful, for making this fatal mistake, because now Brea will go unavenged. Just because you couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut, just because you’re stubborn and hot-headed and oh so stupid.

But to your surprise, the Mandalorian shrugs. He lifts his broad shoulders, then lowers them again as your eyes follow the movement. But he’s not giving you anything more: He doesn’t insist on going alone, he doesn’t turn around and leave, he just keeps standing opposite you, motionless, emotionless, until you’re convinced you imagined the shrug.

So you decide to make the next move by removing yourself from this situation before he changes his mind and drags you back to his ship to do whatever he wants to you. You take a deep breath and start to step around him, a movement that is almost impossible to complete in this small space you’re both in. But you attempt it, nevertheless. When you’re level with him, doing your best not to brush up against him so you won’t enrage him, you hear his voice. It’s just one sentence, four words, but for some reason it sounds so much more human than it did when he was opposite you. Maybe it has something to do with the distance between his helmet and your ear, maybe it’s the angle from which the sounds hit your eardrums or maybe it’s because you feel light-headed, dizzy with the realization he hasn’t killed you yet and probably won’t.

He says, “Have it your way.”

You stop right next to him, staring ahead at a group of three men who do their best not to look at you. But you don’t see them anyway. In fact, you don’t see anything at all because the rushing sound in your ears drowns out everything else, even other senses.

“You can come with me,” he says, and it’s the first time he has spoken two sentences in a row. “But you do as I say.” Three. “If I tell you to run, you run.” Four. “If I tell you to get out of the way, you do so.” Five. “And if I tell you to kill, you kill.” Six.

Then nothing, just the faint sound of his deep breaths through the modulator.

Your thoughts are racing, tripping over their own feet like children running down a hill, and they’re unbearably loud. Everything is loud suddenly, from the sound of the barkeep filling a glass to the way that woman over there is chewing her food. The only thing that’s quiet is the last one you would have suspected to be so: the Mandalorian. Now he is waiting for you to say something and as he does, he balls his hand into a fist and then releases the tension again, over and over like a nervous tic, like he needs an outlet for the tension in his body, the tension you have no idea he is feeling until you see his arm flex beneath the fabric covering it.

But, once more, you’re at war with yourself. You don’t know what to tell him. There is still that shimmer of hope on the horizon, the light that makes you believe you stand a chance if you bring him along. But his terms … you’re not sure if you can accept them. He doesn’t know Alvorine or the men you would be hunting half as well as you do. And you’ve never been one for following orders. So if you feel that his assessment of a situation is wrong, you’re not sure you’ll be able to run just because he tells you to.

You have a feeling that defying his orders would be the most dangerous thing you could ever do, even more dangerous than hunting down a group of ruthless bandits who like to torture and kill for fun.

“All right,” you say finally.

His fist unclenches one last time and he exhales slowly.

“But when we find them,” you swallow hard, once, but your mouth is completely dry, “I get to decide what happens to them.”

The Mandalorian turns toward you so abruptly that you almost lose your balance. You lean back and hit your elbow on the wall behind you. The pain makes you curse under your breath.

“Agreed,” he whispers. He sounds like a machine again, as if everything that makes him human is shut away beneath that cold, hard, invaluable beskar steel. You too feel cold suddenly, cold and afraid. “But until then you do as I say. Understood?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. He is too close to you, and drowns out everything else, even the sounds that you considered to be too loud mere seconds ago. If he wouldn’t be wearing a helmet, you would be able to feel his breath on your cheek. He takes up your field of vision almost entirely. You’ve never felt more on display, and yet more hidden. And you know that if you say the wrong thing now, it will have terrible consequences.

So you just nod again.

“We leave in the morning,” he tells you, then turns around suddenly and leaves, his cape trailing behind him.

All sounds come rushing back at once, as if you’ve just emerged out of a pool of water. You release your breath quickly, only now realizing you’ve been holding it. Then you slump back against the wall, a shaking, quivering mess.

***

tag list: @bella-ciao​, @filthybookworm​, @frannyzooey​, @khalysa​, @leannawithacapitala​, @mothandpidgeon​, @mrsparknuts​, @mxsamwilson​, @piscespussybabe​, @something-tofightfor​

[appleflavoredkitkats]

Analysis of the “Fundy’s Mind” Stream: A Showcase of Repressed Memories and Repressed Insecurities

i. INTRODUCTION

Hi! This is going to be��� something. Funny how I focus on this rather than my research homework, but I have a MASSIVE Fundy brain rot right now and I’d love to share my thoughts on Fundy’s newest stream. Fair warning, I am not the Messiah, so don’t take everything as fact. I’m open to constructive and objective discussions in replies or in DM’s, so feel free to hmu!

All of this is /dsmp and /rp by the way!

Heavy trigger warnings for derealization, parental neglect, neglect in general, self-deprecation, self-neglect, low self-esteem, death, manipulation, abandonment, loneliness, trust issues, torture mention, blood mention, and broken friendships.

Word Count: Approximately 10k.

ii. PRE-LIVESTREAM ASPECTS

Before we begin deep diving into the mind of Fundy, I do want to emphasize two major themes of this stream: 1.) Fundy’s insecurities, especially when it comes to abandonment and trust, and 2.) Fundy’s future predicting abilities. A ton (but not all) of statements uttered by the books and Fundy himself tend to have double meanings that apply to both of these themes. 

We can further discuss the future predicting powers later, but to give a little background on Fundy’s insecurities: Fundy is notorious for heavily depending his self-worth on the recognition other people give him. Despite his immaturity, a lot of Fundy’s character is rooted in being heavily underestimated. This could be observed during the Pet Wars when his safety was constantly being threatened by Sapnap, inevitably making him lose a duel against him. Another way we can see this is through Wilbur’s early treatment of Fundy where he constantly infantilized him because Wilbur believed Fundy was a child incapable of being independent. This caused Fundy to appeal a lot to any type of compliment from any person- it began with Quackity ensuring him that he will gift him a lot of cookies if he votes SWAG2020, then to Schlatt complimenting him to the point that Fundy almost gave up on spying and siding with Pogtopia, then to the Butcher Army where he unhesitantly followed Tubbo and Quackity’s lead no matter how many times they made fun of him. While he revels in any type of recognition given, oftentimes, those who seem to care for Fundy tend to leave after he grows attached to them; first with Wilbur, then Niki, then Schlatt, then Eret and Phil, then Tubbo, Ranboo, and Quackity. In the Dream SMP, Fundy is very lonely and has dealt with abandonment issues left and right, but typically, he never does anything with his loneliness, as the last time he lashed out against someone who left him, nothing positive really came out of it (this is when he got mad at Ghostbur). 

(Everything else is under the cut! I worked so hard on this, so please read it if you can, it’d mean a lot!)

So, with all that laid out, I want you to keep this all in mind as it is important for understanding why Fundy feels the way he does in the stream.

Now, let’s begin the analysis. First off, I believe it is important to denote the title and the tags of the stream. The stream is titled “Fundy’s Mind”, so we have to denote that this isn’t merely a dream sequence- the stream is meant to explore the complexity of Fundy’s mind. This includes his thoughts, insecurities, repressed memories, and so on and so forth. Additionally, the stream is tagged “Permadeath”, something different from what Fundy typically tags his streams. There is no clear explanation as to what this could mean, but the possibilities are:

It is hinting that the death system in the Dream SMP could be rigged, and someone is messing with the semantics of death and how it works.

It is hinting that someone will face a permanent death, and most fingers are pointed at Fundy as this is his stream. If not a permanent death, he might at least lose one of his canon lives which was hinted later on in the stream (will discuss later).

It is hinting that he was killed by the end of the dream. Not really a solid theory as we don’t actually know the repercussions of killing someone who is actively dreaming, but it is a possibility.

iii. PROLOGUE

A thing to question at the beginning of the stream is if the entire introduction was part of the dream or not. Seeing how Fundy has the same inventory from this to the next scene, it is plausible, but I don’t think it provides anything if it were a dream. 

Anyway, other things to denote are Fundy’s hotbar! First noticeable thing would be the 38 baked potatoes. The website angelnumber.org explains that 38 means:

“The combination of these two numbers makes the number 38 a number which signifies joy and optimism, courage, finding creative ways to materialize abundance, reality, etc.

The essence of the number 38 in numerology are different kind of relationships, such as romantic ones, business partnerships, teamwork, cooperation, diplomacy, etc.

Number 38 people have a talent for dealing with people in a caring and creative way. They are born team-workers. They need interaction with other people to fully enjoy their lives. They are usually optimistic and have a gift of inspiring others to action.”

So far, the number 38 is viewed to be positive. It signifies financial success and cooperativeness, which is interesting if Fundy’s future arc potentially ties to working with Quackity. To further add onto symbolisms regarding success, dreamastromeanings.com says the following:

“If you dreamed of baking or roasting potatoes, that dream is a good sign. It usually indicates your finances increasing over time.

Possibly you have made some investments and now you are beginning to reap the fruits of your efforts and risky activities.”

or,

“If you dreamed of holding a potato in your hand, that dream is a bit of a warning. You might soon receive some lucrative opportunity, possibly work related.

It is advisable to think fast and accept it because you might not get a second chance.

It could also indicate that you are a bit lazy when it comes to taking chances and missing opportunities because of that.”

Both explanations refer to business opportunities and possible investments. If we combine both the explanation for the number 38 and carrying potatoes, we can assume that Fundy will be receiving a business opportunity that would be too good to miss. These explanations also imply that nothing too negative would occur, but instead, Fundy can achieve success through this business opportunity. The only arcs in the Dream SMP which I think could provide a business opportunity would either be 1.) a new warden at the prison, 2.) new member at Snowchester (low odds), but the most likely occurrence would be 3.) Quackity offers him a position at Las Nevadas. With the Quackity smiley face at the end of Fundy’s stream, we can safely believe that the job opportunity at Las Nevadas would be the most likely occurrence.

Another explanation for this is that because the 38 potatoes were brought from the seemingly real world, it could possibly pertain to something that had already happened in the past. This could possibly allude to L’Manberg, especially when the explanations behind 38 potatoes are presented to be more positive, something the current Las Nevadas arc isn’t.

Second thing to notice about the hotbar: Fundy is currently at level 5, with his EXP bar 1/18 filled. To reach level 5, one has to gain 55 EXP, and to reach level 6, one would need to gain an extra 17 EXP. If the bar is merely 1/18 filled, 1/18 of 17 would be 0.94, which when rounded off, is 1. Add 1 to the extra 55, and we would approximately get 56 EXP. The website angelnumber.org says the following:

“The number 56 symbolizes teamwork, coexistence, family, relationships, adventure and expression of freedom.

Number 56 people have diverse interests, some of which they have an in-depth knowledge of and some just general understanding.

They try different approaches in relationships, trying to keep them alive. If everything they’ve tried fails, they simply walk to another relationship.”

This could mean a lot of things. The second sentence could imply that Fundy doesn’t fully comprehend the complexity of his mind. Some parts, he may understand, some, he does not at all. This could imply that there are also more secrets hiding in his mind that we couldn’t get to see. The third sentence is more interesting as Fundy’s entire character arc involves him and his broken relationships with other people. It’s a quite accurate description of Fundy, describing how he desperately tries anything to make a relationship work, and if it fails, he could easily befriend other people even if there is a possibility that that relationship would fail like the previous. 

If we ignore the number of EXP, we can merely focus on the number 5, which means the following:

“When angels are sending you number 5, they want to encourage you to have hope and to be ready to accept all the changes that are coming. Also, if number 5 has appeared just at the moment when you have been thinking about something important in your life, this number could be the answer or the solution for your problems. You should pay attention to number 5 and think of its secret meanings.

If number 5 keeps appearing by your side, it means that changes are already happening in your life. If they have not happened yet, don’t worry. They are on the way and you will feel them in the next couple of days or weeks.”

This can be connected to both the EXP number and the stream as a whole as Fundy begins to accept the gravity of his abandonment issues instead of suppressing his negative feelings towards it. Throughout the stream, Fundy is shown rejecting the idea that he is being neglected by others, but by the second half of the stream, he rejects it less and less. This could be the change the explanation is referring to as Fundy realizing his negative feelings towards his abandonment issues are valid and he needs to take them more seriously rather than brushing them aside. 

With number symbolisms finally aside, we can begin analyzing the actual sequences! Fundy is seen to be approaching his “Not A Secret” Base with a sigh, asking chat if they can go to sleep so that he can go to sleep too. Fundy immediately doubts the possibility of the others in the server following through his request until Ranboo responds with a simple “okay” while Niki responds with “yiss, am asleep”. Fundy quickly flashes the members list on the screen, showing us that only Niki and Ranboo are online on the server before he showcases his new bed, claiming that he likes it.

Two interesting notes about this: 1.) he decides to sleep, which is odd enough in the Dream SMP, and 2.) him having three new beds despite only using one of them. For the first point, I’d like to refer you to what Fundy said at around 26:08:

“I just gotta sleep and then, it’s gonna disappear! And then everyone is gonna appear out of a bush and they’re gonna be ‘Surprise!’, and I’m gonna be like, ‘You guys…! You’re always pranking me, you’ve always been there for me. Every single time… except sometimes… when I needed you the most.’ I just go to bed, I just go to bed, and none of this ever happened.”

While I understand that he is referring to the dream, I also believe that this statement would be one of those types I mentioned earlier that may have a double meaning. While “I just go to bed,” could refer to him wanting to sleep and wake up from this horrific dream, it could also refer to how he easily shuts down to his abandonment issues and goes to bed instead of handling it head first. Knowing this, him going to bed in the first scene could imply that he is in this type of  abandonment predicament, especially when we connect it to the second point. The color orange is meant to represent joy and warmth, and even without the symbolism, we all know orange is Fundy’s favorite color. He sees these three beds and says that he likes them, but I can’t help but feel like the other two beds are meant for two other people. I don’t think Niki and Ranboo being the only other two people on the server is coincidental; they have to relate to the two extra beds in some way.

Niki and Ranboo are two prime examples of close friends Fundy had before breaking off after a misunderstanding. Niki fought with Fundy after he had to burn the flag she made in order to gain Schlatt’s trust, while Fundy fought with Ranboo after Doomsday when they had conflicting beliefs about neutrality and sides. After both incidents, Fundy never really made his way to apologize, but Fundy has awkwardly met up with these two after a certain point. With Niki, he was forced to team with her at the beginning of the November 16th War, joking around with her and Eret, while for Ranboo, Fundy had to talk to him and Philza when they were joking around in the SMP. The meet ups definitely relieved some tension, but it never fully resolved the conflict Fundy had with both characters, so there was never a chance for him to rekindle the close bonds he had with both Ranboo and Niki in the past.

Fundy going to his favorite beds with two extra spots next to him could represent how he does cherish the friendships he shared with Niki and Ranboo, but never has the guts to actually bring back things the way that they were before. So, instead, Fundy sleeps, not wanting to think about them any further.

iv. FIRST DAY

When he wakes, Fundy checks his inventory before exiting his base, saying “Uhm, I don’t actually-” until he cuts himself off once he spots the desert. I don’t actually know what Fundy was supposed to say here, but because he checked his inventory beforehand, I believe he was trying to say “I don’t actually know where my things are,” but I could be wrong. To be fair, this isn’t too important, so we don’t have to focus on that. What we can focus on is the misplaced desert that was obviously not there before Fundy slept. We can easily infer what deserts could symbolize in dreams, especially when it comes to loneliness and the feeling of being deserted, but for better insight, consider what dreamstop.com claims about deserts:

“A dream of a desert is about something that is devoid of any feelings or care for you. It is all about them and nothing about you. Does someone show you a lack of respect? Is there someone or something in your life you dislike and adds no meaning to your life? Do you feel invisible? That no-one cares about you? Deserts represent an empty, barren place you may be trying to fill.

Desert dreams may appear when a relationship or friendship breaks down, or when you feel totally alone. You may have moved recently and have not yet made friends. You may feel homesick for all you left behind.

Being lost in a desert refers to your feelings that a situation is hopeless. You may have a problem you feel no-one cares about, even though you tried to reach out. You may feel there was no support and are feeling hurt and alone.”

You don’t need much analyzing to connect these meanings to what Fundy is experiencing. The setting of a “desert” merely pads the idea of Fundy being incredibly lonely to the point of him believing that he has nothing left to lose. Back in Doomsday, he was an optimistic nihilist, claiming that he doesn’t care much about what occurs from this point onwards as long as he can have a little bit of fun. On the stream where he created the Cube, he claimed that most people hated him anyway, so the least he could do was to make himself so hateable so other people could unite together in their hatred of Fundy even if it meant Fundy would have no companions left. Let it be known: Fundy is incredibly, incredibly lonely, and he is miserable in his loneliness, especially when his self-worth depends on how much people recognize him.

Another thing this desert could be eluding to would be Las Nevadas as it is set in the desert. I do think the desert’s main purpose is to showcase Fundy’s loneliness, but the connection to Las Nevadas is plausible.

Additionally, the dark skies Fundy sees doesn’t really need much of an explanation either. I couldn’t find a website exactly defining what it means to find a dark sky, but most of them speak of it as a negative thing, often symbolizing something terrible to come. I don’t think I need to explain that part, so we’re moving on.

Fundy is, understandably, very confused about this entire predicament. He quickly moves around his base to figure out what is going on, even messaging in chat to see if anyone would respond. Climbing up the ladders, he stands atop his base, spotting the silhouette of the Camarvan from afar. He continues to be confused, claiming he has no idea why he’s here in the first place. He claims he is “freaking out”, continuing to ask questions about where he is, and why the sky turns dark. He denotes that he isn’t at least completely alone as bunnies swarm around the desert. He begins to follow this sandstone path, every few blocks or so passing a fence with a torch stood atop it.

Here, we can infer that Fundy seems to have never seen this place before, or has no recollection of it entirely. Fundy doesn’t seem to be immensely freaked out just yet, especially since he hasn’t asked any questions about how no one is there, mostly focusing on his location and asking what the place is about.

Fundy then asks why the van is here, then zooms in on the nametags he sees at the back of the van. It is notable that something nametagged “Fundy” is shorter than another thing that is nametagged “WilburSoot”. Fundy tries to reach out for them but is unable to enter the van.

We can easily infer that this scene was meant to represent Fundy’s childhood in L’Manberg when he was being taken care of by Wilbur. Despite the lack of silhouettes, we can easily determine that Fundy is young in this scene because of how his nametag is in a much lower position next to Wilbur's, implying that whoever owns that nametag is much shorter. We can denote that by the beginning of the L’Manbergian Revolutionary War, Fundy was, in fact, a child. 

Another question some of you might ask: why is the Camarvan here in the first place? While I believe it could be representative of the part of Fundy’s mind that tackles past memories, I do think it also serves another purpose which I will explain later.

Moving on to the next scenes, Fundy continues following the sandstone path while typing in chat, asking if anyone was actually there. He gets confused by the path for a moment, wanting to go to the ominous building, before realizing that the path does connect to the building, it just swerves a little to the left.

It is notable that when Fundy cried out for help, he doesn’t call for a name in specific-  he calls out for ANYONE. The fact that he is calling out for “anyone” could denote that he doesn’t have any close friends or family members he would want to specifically call out for. 

Continuing on, Fundy follows the path to the building, still very immensely confused about where he is. Opening the door, he sees that the inside descends into an underground room with its flooring made out of chiseled quartz blocks. Fundy gets scared at first, immediately closing the door, looking back in, and going back out once more.

Fundy denotes that there is absolutely nothing out here as he walks around the building. He then gains the courage to descend the staircase, wondering what it is, and at the bottom, there are a lot of misplaced sandstone blocks with small lights illuminating at certain corners. The path leads to the left, showing 10 pieces of red carpet on the floor, and 8 pieces of yellow carpet on the table. He approaches the wooden table before looking to his right, spotting a skull on the floor next to a piece of redstone, which I believe is meant to resemble blood.

I don’t think we really need to research a skull to check what it might represent, but my theory so far as to what the skulls mean in each building would be that it’s meant to represent Fundy losing a canon life. I don’t know if this was intentional, but the corner room where the skull is somewhat reminds me of the Final Control Room with the redstone in the middle representing the button. That is, after all, where Fundy lost his first canon life. 

One of the theories I subscribe to is that the skulls in these buildings are meant to foreshadow Fundy’s death before he ever reaches it. Earlier in the day, we saw Fundy pass by the Camarvan with a younger Fundy which could possibly imply that they haven’t gotten to Eret’s betrayal yet, but the skull creeping up at the corner could represent that it is, in fact, coming. How this ties in to the entire future predicting thing, I will explain later, but for now, keep an eye out on the skulls.

Terrified of the skull, Fundy opens the chest and hesitantly picks up the book and quill inside of it. He opens it and is introduced to another Fundy writing to himself. Other Fundy claims that they’re not exactly the same person, but this Fundy is a part of the real Fundy. Other Fundy claims that Fundy cannot trust this place as it is not real, then begins saying that Fundy himself is not real repeatedly. Fundy’s heart rate suddenly increases when he sees the words “wake up” appear slowly in the book, and after page 34 is shown, Fundy wakes up to a new day in the dream world. 

First thing to denote is that the book has 87 pages, and 87, according to affinitynumerology.com means as follows:

“The numerology number 87 is a number of family, organization, and prosperity.

It's also a number of harmony and idealism, the ideal generally related to a harmonious and prosperous family relationship.

87 has parental instincts. It assumes responsibility for the welfare of others it considers to be family.”

The explanation implies that Fundy longs for family and cares deeply for those who he considers as his family. As much as he hated Wilbur after he died, Fundy still continuously expressed how much he needed Wilbur to be there. He is absolutely attached to anyone who poses as a possible family member, especially to those who he views as parents or guardians. Even outside of Wilbur, he is still practically attached to Phil, even if Phil refuses to consider Fundy as family. Fundy also got immensely angered by Eret when she didn’t show up to sign his adoption papers. I’d even say his attachment to family would even reach people like Sally and Schlatt. Fundy has a tendency of casually talking about Sally, and whenever a character talks about eating salmon, Fundy becomes deeply offended. For Schlatt, Fundy kept Schlatt’s netherite sword after he died, considering it to be an “heirloom”, something that only gets passed down onto different generations of the same family. Fundy is incredibly attached to the sword, and whenever he loses it, he’s absolutely desperate to get it back. As much as Fundy gets abandoned, he still deeply appreciates a lot of his family.

87 is also very reminiscent of one of the books in the Inbetween. A lot of the phrasing in the books are actually quite similar to the Inbetween, but we aren’t sure if Fundy and the Inbetween are directly affecting each other or if these places merely work in similar ways. The main similarity between Fundy and the Inbetween is that it involves something related to time travelling, so the similarities could be pointing towards that rather than imply that Fundy is directly affecting the Inbetween all together.

Secondly, the book stops at Page 34. The website angelnumbers.org express the following:

"Most likely you are leaving your projects unfinished because of fear for their destiny after you finish them.

Will they be rejected or accepted by others?

Because you would rather not find out that and possibly have your ego hurt, you consciously or subconsciously sabotage your work and leave things unfinished.

When this number starts appearing in your life frequently, it is a reminder to acknowledge you have a problem and start dealing with it.”

This is very reminiscent of the paragraph I made earlier discussing Fundy’s relationship with Ranboo and Niki- and this could honestly apply to any other relationships Fundy has as well. Besides Fundy’s relationships, this explanation could apply to Fundy’s hesitance of finding out the truth of his mind. Earlier on in the streams, Fundy is immensely confused about the dream, not wanting to discover its truths at all. This eventually changes on the third day, but we’ll discuss that in a bit.

Another thing I’d like to discuss would be the identity of the book authors and why they wrote the books the way they did. I’ll explain about this more in-depth later, but I do believe that another Fundy is, indeed, writing these books. As this was set in Fundy’s mind, it’s quite impossible for anyone who isn’t Fundy to be meddling with the books. What we can denote, though, is the reason as to why these books were created in the first place. The book itself seems to be harmless at first, quite inviting towards Fundy in the first few pages, but once it had to introduce what this world is, it seemed to hesitate. There were a couple of disjointed pages, as well as blank pages, before it began claiming the world wasn’t real, and that Fundy wasn’t real. It turned a complete 180, which seemed to be very odd to me. In past events of the Dream SMP, derealizing statements like this tend to be tricks of the mind, but these statements seem to be intentionally put there by those who wrote the book, especially since later on, we see another book completely give up on saying these triggering statements, saying that “It’s not going to work.” (32:05). 

What this implies is that whoever placed these statements are attempting to scare Fundy in some way, possibly heightening his insecurities and terror so that he can be truly terrified of the place. The constant statements of “you are not real” may not only refer to the Other Fundy trying to make Fundy spiral downwards in derealization, but it might actually represent how neglected Fundy feels to the point of feeling invisible, to the point of feeling that he “isn’t real”. But why is this Other Fundy trying to scare Fundy, and who, specifically, is the person behind the writings, you might ask? This question will be answered later on when we go more in-depth with the other books, as the bigger picture is very much needed instead of explaining it all by the first book.

v. SECOND DAY

Fundy wakes up in his base once more, evidently confused. We don’t really know why he wakes up in his base, and why the world changes every time he wakes up, but let’s just say this is all part of his dream to make sense out of it. This time, he sounds more broken, and definitely more unhinged. He calls out for any other member in the chat, telling them that whatever they’re doing is not funny. This is the first we see of Fundy believing that the others may actually just have been pulling a prank on him. He opens his chests frantically before venturing outside once more. He claims that he doesn’t believe the book, saying that this dream sequence feels pretty real to him. 

This time, Fundy puts a bigger emphasis on asking why he is alone, and why nobody seems to be here with him. Fundy seems to be more shaken up by the idea that he’s alone over the idea that he does not know anything about where he is at all. He approaches the van, and when he zooms in, he sees that Wilbur’s nametag disappeared. 

Transcript of this following scene:

“I knew you were there. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no- you can’t fool me! No, I knew you were there Wil. You were there, right there! Where did you go? Are you being- he’s being funny. This is funny! This is great. Aw, this is amazing- it’s just a prank! It’s April Fools soon- that’s why! Oh, I’m just being pranked… right?”

Now, this was… sad. This is one of the other statements that could have a double meaning. Fundy insisting that Wilbur is supposed to be there could not only be him comparing this day to the previous, but it could also imply his true feelings towards Wilbur, especially since he’s disappeared for a good portion of Fundy’s life. Fundy believes Wilbur is supposed to be there for him, but the reality is that he wasn’t. Instead of facing reality, Fundy concludes that all of this was a harmless joke instead of believing that Wilbur might have possibly left him.

Fundy attempts to enter the van once more, but his attempt doesn’t work. He then follows the path on the side directing to the ominous building only for him to realize that it has gotten closer.

The building getting closer to the main base actually has a lot of symbolism behind it. The building itself stores a lot of secrets, especially when it comes to the truths about this world and the different insecurities Fundy has repressed. Those writing the books have laid out all these secrets in every single book found in this building. The fact that it’s underground is meant to represent that these secrets are meant to be hidden in the depths of Fundy’s mind, but the fact that the building is getting closer to the main base makes it feel like 1.) the stored secrets about this world that Fundy may have forgotten about might finally seep into his consciousness, making him aware of them next time he wakes up, and 2.) the insecurities Fundy repressed deep down are seeping out more and more as it reaches the main core. Once it’s there, Fundy won’t be able to reject the truth about his abandonment issues any longer.

Fundy nears the building, still quite nervous. He opens the door, and the layout of the inside seems to be slightly similar to the previous day, but there are small details here and there that are different. Instead of 10 red carpets, there are 6, and instead of 8 yellow carpets, there are 6. Additionally, the skull seems to be closer, this time directly next to the table.

While the carpets were quite subtle, I do think it symbolizes a certain decrease of something. Red symbolizes the color for passion and love, while yellow is meant to represent happiness and positivity. Earlier, we saw that Wilbur disappeared from the Carmarvan, so the decrease of rugs for each color could represent Fundy’s love and happiness decreasing.

For the skull itself, I don’t know if I’m right, but this is what I infer from it: On the first day, we saw that Wilbur was still standing next to Fundy in the Camarvan as the first skull underground was still very far away. On the second day, when Wilbur was gone, the skull got closer, standing next to the table instead of it being far away. I theorize that if the skull is closer, then a canon death has already occurred in the time period the day wants to present. The first day presents a time where Wilbur was still taking care of Fundy, so Eret’s betrayal may not have happened yet, hence why the skull merely stayed hidden at the corner. On the second day, Wilbur has actively left Fundy, similar to the period after L’Manberg’s independence when Fundy had to partake in the Pet Wars alone. During that era, the betrayal has already happened, which is why I believe the skull is much closer this time. 

Continuing on, Fundy opens the book and begins reading. From this point onwards, I do want to go more in depth with each of the books, so I’ll put transcripts here and there with my thoughts added onto it after each transcript.

“Hi me!

Welcome back!

Yeahh, second time here? or third?

not entirely sure”

So, this is confirmation that this might not be the first time Fundy’s having dreams like this. A good question to ask is if the book was written a long time ago and has presented itself the same way it does right now, or if this book was written recently. I don’t think the stream gave a definitive answer, but it is something to keep in mind.

“Listen to me Fundy

and you should trust me because,

well you know why

There are two things you can do right now

Walk back to your base, jump in bed, fall asleep, and you will wake up as if nothing ever happened

Or you can keep reading…

And I will tell you what I know”

The book pauses for a bit then continues saying “You are not real” ten times, “You dont want to know the truth��� fifteen times, and spams “WAKE UP” until the 38th page, a number we analyzed earlier because of the 38 baked potatoes. 

For the book itself, whoever is writing the book seems to be a bit hesitant when writing. It doesn’t seem to want to explain what this place truly is to Fundy, and as much as it clarifies that they are, indeed, Fundy, they never expound on how they were able to write these books and why Fundy should trust him. Other Fundy saying “you should trust me because, well you know why” is actually quite ominous, and I can only think of two reasons as to why they would say it: 1.) Other Fundy is implying that Fundy can trust him because he is, in fact, the same person, or 2.) Other Fundy is hinting that Fundy trusts too easily as seen with the people Fundy trusted in the real world.

Additionally, the Other Fundy seems to emphasize on the fact that they WANT Fundy to go to sleep and wake up in the overworld. They phrase it so that sleeping once more is the more logical option, while they basically scare Fundy with the other option, evident by his quickened heartbeat. The Other Fundy seems to know about the intricacies of this dream and its world, but seems to be very hesitant to tell Fundy about it. The continuous threats imply that the Other Fundy doesn’t want Fundy to know the truth at all.

Basically, this Other Fundy knows something, something our Fundy doesn’t know about, and wants to emphasize that it is something horrific. He will do whatever he can do so that he can stop Fundy from knowing the truth, even if it means he has to scare Fundy.

Additionally, to me, it feels like “WAKE UP” could possibly have two meanings. If the underground structure is meant to represent things that Fundy constantly represses to the back of his mind, not only would the secrets of his dream reside there, but his own repressed insecurities may reside there as well. The way Fundy treats the truth about his dreams is actually quite similar with the way he treats his insecurities- he tends to reject its existence and pretend that everything is normal. This dream isn’t just a dream, it’s an exploration of Fundy’s mind, and telling Fundy to “WAKE UP” doesn’t just refer to not knowing the truths about the dream, but it could also refer to Fundy not knowing the truths about his own insecurities hidden deep in the depths of his mind. 

vi. THIRD DAY

Fundy wakes up, breathing heavily. He paces around his room before opening the door frantically, seeing that he is still stuck in a desert. He begins to laugh, repetitively telling himself that all of this is a “joke”. He continues questioning why he’s still in this dream, and when he opens the door, he sees the ominous structure observably closer to the base. He claims that he’s actually stressing out, and Fundy goes on a tangent about this dream and reveals a bit about his insecurities:

“They’re toying with me, they’re toying with me. They’re actually- everyone is toying with me- they are ALWAYS TOYING WITH ME. Everyone is! I’m always being played with. Why? Why always me- no! Why does it always have to be me? Every single time. I don’t wanna- (sigh). I don’t wanna keep dealing with this- I just wanna- no- do I just… Do I just… Do I just go up here and listen to- wai- okay. The book said I have two options: I can wait here until it’s night time. Wait until the sun sets and I can go to sleep, and when I go to sleep and wake up, none of this is real. None of this is gonna- it’s gonna disappear. None of this is real, none of this is real, none… It’s not real, it’s not real, I am currently not real, this is no- how is this possible? How is this- wha- how did- how… None of this is real. I am not real. All I have to do is wait for midnight and just sleep, and all of this would end, right? All I have to do is… wait until night time and then… it’s all gonna be over, it’s all gonna be done. 

I just gotta sleep, and then, it’s gonna disappear. And then everyone is gonna appear out of a bush and they’re gonna be ‘Surprise!’ and I’m gonna be like, ‘You guys! You’re always pranking me… you’ve always been there for me (sniffs). Every single time… except sometimes… when I needed you the most. I just go to bed… I just go to bed, and then I wake up, and none of this ever happened. And we’re gonna go back to my old life where I have fun and join parties and join groups and only see them disappear in front of my eyes as I start to get attached to them. Y-yeah, that’s- that’s- that’s the choice I’m making. Go back to that... (sigh). Just… or you know…”

LOTS to unpack here, and I’ll go one by one explaining certain aspects of this because it’s not just something that showcases Fundy’s insecurities.

Firstly, interesting how Fundy believed that the book was toying with him like how a lot of other people do. That’s what makes him afraid of the book- the feeling of being pushed around. The book is actively trying to use Fundy’s insecurities against him in order to make him more and more afraid of the truth. This is interesting because Fundy is known to be ignorant towards his actual issues (just look at his monologue), but the Other Fundy seems to be acutely aware of them. I will explain why he is aware of them later on.

Secondly, this is the most observable point, Fundy seems to be aware that he is quite frankly, alone, but tends to ignore it. He copes with his abandonment issues by treating his abandonment like a joke. He believes that every single person who’s left him did it as a prank. Even if he laughs at this idea, he is also evidently hurt by it. It hits even harder when you realize that Fundy is quite the dependent character, often sucking up to any person who gives him recognition. If Fundy depends on others to dictate his self-worth, how do you think he thinks of himself right now when he literally has nobody?

Putting emphasis on Fundy’s loneliness is going to be interesting because I do think some characters in future arcs are going to exploit that. If Quackity is going to use and manipulate Fundy the same way Sam does, then there would be no doubt that he will use Fundy’s loneliness against him. Even if it’s not Quackity who approaches Fundy first- even Bad, Sam, Dream, anyone, really, could use Fundy’s loneliness against him, which will make for an interesting plot point.

Lastly, not a lot of people spotted this, but this monologue also gives us insight as to why Fundy continued looking for the truth about his dreams instead of staying in his base and waiting for night. When talking about what to look forward to once he wakes up, he talks about how much “fun” he is going to have. Slowly, you see his denial start to dwindle as he finally admits that people leave him just as he gets attached to them. As much as Fundy wanted to wake up from this horrific dream, he realizes that, once he wakes up, he has nothing to look forward to either. That’s why he hesitates when he says “Yeah, that’s the choice I’m making,” because he realizes waking up isn’t as ideal as it seems. This is why Fundy immediately goes outside afterwards with no hesitation- Fundy has nothing left to lose, hence why he chooses to venture forth. Fundy is driven to do things because he feels like his life is purposeless anyway.

Fundy then begins to head outside quietly, zooming into the ominous building while walking right towards it. He then detours for a moment, walking towards the right of the building, and approaches a giant crater filled with obsidian and blackstone.

The explosion could symbolize two things:

Any of the L’Manberg explosions. With the obsidian and blackstone combination, my guess is that this is either the first Doomsday event (L’Manbergian War of Independence) because of L’Manberg’s walls, or the November 16th War because of Schlatt’s Podium. Why the big amount of blackstone and obsidian? Well, I’m not so sure when it comes to L’Manberg as its walls didn’t have obsidian, but for the November 16th war, I do think that the abundance of blackstone and obsidian is meant to represent how Fundy is reducing the November 16th war to Schlatt’s Podium. This can be alarming as he was the one who made Schlatt’s Podium, so reducing the war to that one building might symbolize that he blames himself for the war.

Another theory, which is the theory I subscribe to more, is that this is actually depicting an event in the future that we haven’t seen yet. Namely, the prison. If you zoom in on the explosion, the block pattern is quite reminiscent of the block pattern present in the prison.

While I’ll mostly discuss Fundy’s future predicting powers later, I do think that there’s a possibility that Fundy saw a vision of the future, unlike the past two days where he saw visions of the past. The prison might possibly be nuked in the future.

Fundy then proceeds to walk back towards the building, repetitively saying “no”. He claims he needs to find out, sounding more determined than before. For this, even if the explosion could represent many things, I do think Fundy is generally reminded of the explosions he had to witness throughout the history of the Dream SMP. Perhaps he believes that finding out the truth could prevent more explosions from occurring, perhaps he figured out that this was the prison and he needed to know why it exploded, perhaps him walking away from something that’s reminiscent of real life represents his choice of wanting to learn more about his dreams rather than sticking to anything similar to real life. 

Moving on, Fundy enters the building, saying he wants to know what’s going on. The underground room seems to have changed a bit, as the chiseled quartz floors changed into quartz bricks. The place also seems to be littered with end stone blocks and bricks. The place is much darker as well, and the carpets on the floor and table seem to be gone entirely. Two skulls can be observed near the table.

My brain actually can’t reason as to why the end blocks were there, or why the quartz blocks changed. My guess is that the end stones will eventually connect to a future plot point relating to the End, but again, I’m not sure. The carpets being gone could represent that the love and happiness (red and yellow) that Fundy had disappeared completely. The dishevelled state of the room could represent that the secrets being held inside this underground room are finally breaking free as its confines tear down more and more. 

Now the skulls- if we go by the theory I presented earlier, then the skulls are meant to represent canon deaths. If the skull was tucked into the corner, then that means death is to come, but if it’s near the table, then I believe the canon death already occurred. If two skulls are next to the table, then it could imply that whatever time period the day is set in should be around the time Fundy loses a second canon death, which hasn’t occurred yet. Again, this is all speculation, so I might be overthinking, but if the explosion is meant to represent the prison getting nuked, then there’s a possibility Fundy would lose a canon life before the prison gets destroyed.

Now, onto the juicy bit: the book. The book reads as follows:

“Hi. again.

...Why are we so persistent

...Why are we so stubborn

...You have been here before, but you keep coming back

...Why?

WHY???

You dont want to know the truth

It will hurt you

I dont want to be hurt again

YOU dont want to be hurt again

I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT

PLEASE JUST LEAVE

GO TO BED

FALL ASLEEP

ENJOY YOUR LIFE

ENJOY THE FUN THINGS

THE TRUTH ISNT WHAT YOU WANT

PLEASE

STOP THIS

STOP!!!”

The book tries scaring Fundy by spamming “WAKE UP” across multiple pages.

“It’s not going to work, huh..

Listen to me Fundy…

Your mind is not safe…

You are not imagining this…

This place might not be real…

But he is.

Spare yourself.

I need you to listen carefully.

Do not join him.

Whatever he asks of you.

Do NOT join him.

his plans aren’t as nice as they sound.

his intentions aren’t what you think they are.

he will use you

he will destroy you

everything you ever loved

everyone you ever cared about

do not join him.”

Before I explain this book, I think it’s best to also note down what was said in the next book as well so I can better explain what’s going on.

“note to self

hello

I just wrote this book to remember who I am

To remember what is happening

All the books I just found are indeed written by me

Listen to yourself

You suffer from a very odd illness

You suffer from a form of insomnia, within your own dreams.

Now the effects of this aren’t really known, and even I don’t fully know what is going on.

but let me tell you

somehow, this world, these actions and events, are linked to reality.

things that happen in these so-called “dreams”, tend to leak into the real world

they will actually happen.

you might wonder how exactly this is a bad thing.

the ability to predict certain events from happening, sounds pretty cool.”

Fundy then stops reading the book, seemingly overwhelmed by the influx of information. Analysis time, boys, time to unpack what this all means.

Firstly, I believe that this dream has happened before. Multiple times, actually. If certain “events” in the dream are meant to predict the future, then the moments involving the Camarvan on the first two days could imply that Fundy has seen this place before during the L’Manberg era where he could’ve predicted Eret’s betrayal and the loss of his father. If we think about it, the books could honestly be given to Fundy at any time period and it would work. Look at the entire section of the book describing someone who Fundy can’t trust- this “him” person could honestly be… anyone who abandoned Fundy? If the book hints at someone who might possibly hurt and use Fundy, then Eret, Wilbur, Schlatt, and Dream could also be considered. These people were nice to Fundy at first before betraying him one way or another. There is a possibility that this dream has warned Fundy about these people in the past, only for Fundy to forget about the dream. What about this time though, who is this “him” that’s going to betray Fundy during this time period? Well, the easy answer would be Quackity, but Bad could be a possibility as well. With the hint towards Quackity at the end, I do believe that Quackity would be the main suspect, but it’s also good to keep an open mind as we don’t know much of who Fundy’s involved with in Season 3.

Now, why would Fundy be able to forget about the dreams, though? I do think that whoever is responsible for writing the books are doing their best to prevent Fundy from uncovering the truth. Who do I think are the book authors? Well, I don’t think they were lying when they said that they were Fundy. I believe that, just like the Dream voice in Ranboo’s head, the Fundy that writes books would be some sort of conscience or subconscious in Fundy’s mind. This part of the mind holds certain memories repressed by Fundy, as well as some of the insecurities he chooses to ignore. They are aware of all of Fundy’s past visits of this dream, and they know the dangers of it, which is why they want Fundy to not uncover the truth. 

The signed book claims that whatever Fundy sees in the dream will seep out into reality. Knowing this, I believe Fundy’s subconscious is trying to prevent Fundy from seeking out the truth to prevent these future visions from happening in real life; this especially applies to events that involve Fundy possibly being hurt. There is a possibility that this Fundy has seen past Fundy’s discover events like the Camarvan and the loss of Wilbur occur in dreams way past before it occurred in real life, so they feel afraid that our Fundy would uncover more and more truths that would become reality. While we don’t know if Other Fundy’s beliefs on future predicting is true, this gives us a better understanding of why they want Fundy to go to bed and wake up. (Additionally, the Other Fundy has placed emphasis on saying that the truth may hurt Fundy, so there is a possibility that these future events might involve something that heightens Fundy’s insecurities more. That’s why this Fundy seems to be so aware of Fundy’s insecurities- they have witnessed Fundy’s insecurities being used against him in certain visions.)

For the memory thing, so far, I believe a part of Fundy’s mind is actively suppressing all the memories Fundy has of his dreams. Fundy already represses a lot of his insecurities, so using Fundy’s insecurities against him might actually enable them to keep Fundy’s memories about the dream locked in the corners of his mind. The place where the book is kept in is underground, after all, but we do have to keep in mind that the building is getting closer and closer to Fundy’s main base. This could symbolize that Fundy will remember his dreams more once he wakes up.

So basically, so far, Fundy has dreamt this dream multiple times in the past, and during each dream, he witnesses an event in the future that could possibly happen in real life. Fundy’s subconscious, or possibly past versions of Fundy, are trying to warn future Fundy’s to not uncover too many truths about the dream as they believe this could possibly manifest terrible events to happen in real life. To get Fundy to go back to bed, they try scaring Fundy, using his insecurities against him, only this time, Fundy is a bit more disobedient because, again, he feels like he has nothing left to lose. 

Another theory I have which I’m not 100% sure about is that this Other Fundy, as much as it has good intentions, may have committed a mistake when they tried to get Fundy to bed by using his insecurities. If anything in the dream may happen in real life, them heightening Fundy’s insecurities might pass over to the real world as well. While scaring Fundy could prevent him from uncovering the truth, it might’ve also been a double-edged sword as Fundy is more aware of his insecurities more than ever.

Continuing on, Fundy decided to leave the building, seeing that it’s night time. He sounds relieved knowing that he can sleep and that he can wake up from this dream. He celebrates for a moment, throwing the book away, but then he hesitates, saying he wants to know the truth. He picks the book up again but doesn’t read it immediately, claiming that he could just sleep instead of knowing the truth.

Fundy seems to revel in the idea of waking up for a bit until he mentions how much of a “blast” he can have with everyone once he wakes up. After mentioning this, he immediately picks up the book with no hesitation. This is the second time Fundy is shown to be motivated in finding the truth about his dreams because of him realizing how unfun the real world is. Again, Fundy is seen to be motivated by the fact that he has nothing left to lose, and as much as he is scared of this dream, he seems to prefer finding this world’s truth over going back into the real world where he’s practically alone.

Moving on, the book continues:

“however…

while this might be the case of dreams…

this is also the case for nightmares…

this is your last warning Fundy

please… for the both of us…

just wake up”

This part of the book simply affirms all I’ve theorized about earlier. The Other Fundy hints that some events that Fundy might witness in his dream would be detrimental to Fundy, which is why he doesn’t want Fundy to continue exploring. He knows that Fundy will possibly manifest an event that will ruin him in real life, so he wants Fundy to sleep instead of accidentally manifesting his demise.

vii. FOURTH DAY

Fundy then wakes up once more, complaining that this dream never ends. He goes outside, seeing a black, hooded figure slowly turn around and chase him. With a quickened heartbeat, he runs up his stairs to sleep in a black bed placed on the roof. Fundy screams as we see the hooded figure approach, and the screen fades to black. A white smiley face reminiscent of the one on Quackity’s skin appears on the screen as casino slots sound effects play in the background.

Now, what do I make of this? Well, firstly, we gotta point out that his bed at the end looked EERILY similar to a gravestone. A lot of websites claim that sleeping in a gravestone or seeing a gravestone could indicate change, especially when it comes to overcoming one’s sadness or problems. In a literal sense, we can think of it as something foreshadowing a future canon death, especially if we think that the person chasing Fundy is the grim reaper.

Speaking of that person, I do have a couple of explanations as to who this person is:

The person is death themselves, the grim reaper. This is the common conclusion everyone believes in, especially when we consider this “him” person possibly hurting Fundy, and that second skull in the underground room. Quackity is the main culprit for now, especially with that smiley face in the end, but there could be other possibilities! Like, what if someone takes Fundy’s canon life before he joins Quackity, which is why the smiley face only popped up after Fundy’s dream death? Mayhaps someone affiliated with Quackity might be doing the dirty work for him, so Bad, Sam, Dream, and anyone, really, could be responsible for Fundy’s future canon death. Moreover, the fact that this death occurs affirms the beliefs of the Other Fundy. The Other Fundy merely wants Fundy to be safe from possibly manifesting his demise in real life, but Fundy’s curiosity got the best of him, and in the next sequence, he was killed, proving that the Other Fundy was right in saying that Fundy should’ve just slept.

A theory I made up which I’m not 100% sure of is that this figure is actually Fundy’s subconscious trying to get him to sleep. When Fundy was being chased, we heard a quickened heartbeat, and where was the only other time we heard that? When Fundy was reading the “WAKE UP” and “you’re not real” messages from those books. We can view this as the Other Fundy’s attempt in trying to get Fundy to actually sleep by using another scare tactic against Fundy. And well… it did work! Because Fundy was afraid of this figure, Fundy went to sleep. There is also a possibility that this occurrence is what makes Fundy forget about the dream because his subconscious got a hold of Fundy and forcibly made him forget, but I’m not 100% sure about that one yet.

Lastly, the face! That should already allude to Fundy possibly joining Quackity’s lore, and with the “38 potatoes” symbolizing business opportunities, I expect Fundy to be joining Las Nevadas as a possible employee. Quackity does, in fact, prey on people who are insecure, and can easily get them to do whatever he wants because of his words. If he can get Sam to give him the tools needed to torture Dream, Quackity might exploit Fundy’s loneliness into making him do whatever Quackity wants from him. 

Another face that this could possibly connect to is the face in the Egg lair! While I’m leaning more towards Quackity because of the casino sounds, I do wanna say that the Egg and the Eggpire could possibly be connected as well, especially when the Egg could provide Fundy anything he wants. Just like how Quackity could prey on Fundy’s insecurities, the Egg preys on those who feel like they’re missing something, so as much as Fundy could be manipulated by Quackity, he could also be manipulated by the Egg. Additionally, business opportunities could apply to the Eggpire as well as they’ve contacted Purpled in the past to assassinate Puffy, so who’s to say they won’t try adding Fundy to the Eggpire?

TLDR; This entire stream showcased both Fundy’s insecurities and Fundy’s future predicting powers and how this “Other Fundy”, aka his subconscious, wants him to repress them because they believe that if Fundy uncovers the secrets of his dream more, then Fundy would accidentally manifest his demise in real life. Additionally, Fundy is very lonely, making him vulnerable of being used in the future because he is desperate to get any type of recognition from anybody. In summary, be afraid of Fundy’s future lore streams, be very afraid.

viii. ADDITIONAL NOTES

Even when I finish this, there’s a lot of questions to ask about this stream that I want you to keep in mind:

How many times has Fundy encountered this before?

How does Fundy forget all the information he got from the dreams?

How does Fundy write to himself?

Why is there so many details connected to Karl, and what does it have to do with time travelling?

Why does Fundy return to his bed every time his heartbeat quickens when reading a book?

Was the first scene part of the dream or not?

Could the underground room’s structure actually mean something?

And there’s probably more, but just saying, keep an open mind about this entire stream because there’s definitely a lot more to uncover.

I want to reiterate: I am not the Messiah, so don’t take my word as the truth and the absolute truth. I’d love to hear your thoughts about Fundy’s stream as a lot of it could be up for speculation! The entire thing is filled to the brim with symbolisms, so there could be a lot of interpretations to consider. If you enjoyed this, feel free to like and retweet because I worked my ASS off with this one. 

Special thanks to the following:

Fundy and any of the Dream SMP members because that stream was INCREDIBLE. Go give them your love and support.

kingjem for always being there whenever I want to discuss any ideas I have about the Dream SMP. One of the smartest bitches I know, go follow them.

To all my betas who reviewed this document since I have a TON of grammar mistakes (thanks English): prismartist, bootsforthebootsgod, Finni_june (twt), ender-hyperfocuses-on-things, and Dngertosociety2 (twt)

And to all of you who like this post and would share it to other people! All support is appreciated. :D

[justfangstvdto]

Open Coffin 2 | Chapter 03  “Living On Borrowed Time”

Disclaimer: This is a sequel! Find Part 1 here. For some context, I´d advise you to watch The Originals to understand some occurrences.

Chapter warnings:  a little bit of a slow breather chapter, timeline divergence, canon divergence,  Also apologies for the long break in between...I allowed myself time to let it marinate a little, feel free to wait for more chapters to come before reading, 

Word count:  5450

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is my lifeblood and keeps the writing coming (eventually...lol).

Open Coffin 2 Masterlist

Your feet dragged over what was left of the road in the cemetery that had been split open by centuries of floods and moving earth. The white paint of a few sparsely placed tombs was so bright you had to shield your eyes from the reflecting light. The trees swayed in the gentle breeze, diluting the light above into a shaded mess. There had never been an English word for the way the sun and wind interplay with each other to create dappled sunlight, but it decorated the entire tree-lined walkway. 

Leaving the shadows, you turned the corner towards the far end of the cemetery, skipping some of Lafayette´s prominent resting places, "Why the hell did I agree to this again?" 

“Because you're taken with my personality?” Kaleb was walking behind you a step or two, taking his sweet time as if he had no trouble wasting seconds to nothing. He had convinced you to not kill him immediately with a promise of revealing his intentions. You agreed, knowing that if he walked you into a trap you could still end him with a rub of your fingers.  It was a win-win, though a time consuming one so far. 

And time was running out. You hid a bloody nose from his eyes when he was unconscious - the second one that day - and it was only going to get worse from here on out.

“You think if I´d be taken with you, I would´ve handcuffed you to a radiator?” You scoffed, ignoring his attempt to lighten your mood completely. 

“I don´t know,” he shrugged, “you might be into that.” 

You rolled your eyes at his comment, progressing further. Passing another set of stones older than dirt, you adjusted the straps of the bag that carried your letters, fastening the metal handler around your shoulder.  It was comforting to know that they were with you again and that they only fell into the hands of the stranger next to you. After a few more steps, the sound of shoes crushing loose stones under his weight grew silent. 

"This is it," he said and nudged his head towards the building on your left.

You looked at the building towering next to you and it took a moment for you to scramble together where you are. Like a squared lighthouse, the second story building had glass windows on the second floor that wrapped around all sides. The first floor was used by the local witches as a place to congregate and meet with each other, while the second floor was full of plants, herbs and other ingredients for all kinds of spells.  You knew the place all too well. Besides plants, it currently housed a newly moved in leech that fed on people's weaknesses. One that was followed by her offspring and one - that despite the meaning of her name - was the worst of them all. 

Esther.  

"Of course you're working for her. I should've known.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, breathing out the weight of uncertainty from your lungs. Finally, the pieces revealing the stranger in front of you fell into place. Esther sends a distraction. Needless to say, you were not surprised. 

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you too are working with her?" He had a smug grin on his face as he replied as if he´d outfoxed your question. Smug Bastard. 

"Let me guess, she's the one that wanted my letters?”You asked, and he confirmed with a nod “Why?”

“To exploit your secrets, I'd imagine." He shrugged, then opened the door to the building and stepped aside “After you.” You brushed past him, brushing against his torso trying to fit into the outlandish small door frame. At least this time you were not wearing any hindering clothes as you did 100 years ago. You remembered that once a part of your coat ripped trying to enter this building and if you'd look closely you might even find particles of the clothing still littering the doorframe. 

Entering the room at the top of the building, you heard Kaleb breathe out in annoyance once he laid eyes on Finn. He- who was still inhabiting a local Voodoo master with the name of Vincent Griffith - stood at the table, ripping feathers from a dead crow that laid on it. 

“Ah, Finn. Just the person I didn't want to see." Kaleb looked at him with such disdain one would have deduced that there was some sort of sour history there. Still, Finn said nothing and blankly stared through his borrowed eyes. 

Looking at him, you wondered if the people underneath Esther´s and Finn's possession had any control left. Did they feel or see too? Or were they gone, totally locked away? You never wanted to find out first hand. 

“Kaleb, Y/N. I see you two have been acquainted.” You heard Esther speaking from an adjoined room before you saw her. But now she wasn´t the teenage witch she had been inhabiting when you met, it was a local shop owner and witch that had been selling witch items not far from Marcel's new place. But even in another body, she remained the most questioned pawn on the board.

 “I guess it was bound to happen since you sent him to steal from me. I don't appreciate you meddling in personal business. That wasn't part of the deal.”

“Did I, now?" She paused and shared a look of disapproval with Finn next to her "Very well. Since Kaleb revealed himself to you, you´ll join forces for the time being. Perhaps then I'll get what I seek." 

"Yeah no, I don't do teams." You shook your head and glanced at Kaleb next to you “No offence.”

“You'll do as you're told," Finn said. His jaw was clenched and he tipped the tip of his finger against the table. Ah, the scolding finger. Another thing he had in common with his brothers. 

"Oh, of course!” Kaleb scoffed, slicing his words in a sudden stern veer “Now Finn, the sycophant, speaks up! Are you gonna grovel at your mother's heels for eternity, or what?" 

Finn dragged his eyes from the table and ogled him down as if he would implode to dust under his gaze  “I advise you to stay your lane." 

You rolled your eyes at their ongoing dick-sword fight, wishing they´d either attack each other for a little entertainment or simply hold their tongue until you´re out of the way.

“We should move this along.” Esther sounded annoyed as she ordered Finn to the back room with a nod of her head. He tore himself away from the hostile conversation with reluctance, yet he complied. “Now,” Esther looked at you with stern expectation “What brings you here? I do hope it is not another empty promise.”

"I come bearing gifts." You said, stepping forward to the table in the middle of the room. You brushed dried up leaves from the roses that grew in the room from the table with your elbow. Kaleb's eyes went wide when he saw what you held in your hands. The white oak stake in all its silver veined glory. You watched Esther's eyebrows ripple with surprise. She wasn't expecting you to bring the white oak to her as you promised. 

She reached out to grasp it, but you brought the tip of the stake to the ceiling to withhold it from her   “I need some repayment first. A part of the spell, an ingredient from the list, something."

"You haven't fulfilled your part of the deal." She stated with certainty in her voice. 

“This is the start of it. You said you wanted to convince Klaus and Elijah to become human, right? But of course, they´re not as easy to persuade as you thought. If you can't convince them, pour salt into their wounds until they can't do anything but listen. You´re their mother. I´m sure you have secrets about them floating around in your head somewhere. Use them.”

“I am well aware of-” 

“I'm not finished. They're hiding something big. Elijah went off like the attack dog he is without me doing anything to cause this, which means that they're hiding something. They have to be. He's too suspicious of me to not want to keep something hidden away. I can find out what it is if you give me something first.” 

“You will give me the white oak stake and I will consider handing you a fraction of the spell” 

So that's how this is gonna go. You're baiting the wrong person here, Esther... 

You considered your options for a moment, going over the possible outcomes of any branch, but all led to disaster. All but one. That meant not playing her game anymore. It would never get to the point where she would keep up her end of the bargain.  But this endeavour trying to gain her sympathies had no use. It was time for Plan B.

"Fine. I'll be back with more soon” You met her observing gaze, looking at her without a glimmer of fear she so hoped to spot. You let her grasp the white oak stake and let it fall into her hands.

“It's not like I'm living on borrowed time or anything." You muttered as you turned to leave through the door you came into. 

What Esther will do with the white oak, that only her twisted mind would now. But at least it will give you time to come up with another plan. Including another obstacle that was your new companion who, if your senses were not completely obliterated, knew too much to not work against you. 

For now, however, getting out of the fire line is what was important, or you´d not stand to see this through. 

--

You stood on the corner, watching as Marcel paraded around in front of his new initiates. He was trying to rebuild his community, the one that Klaus took over with his scheming and intrigues. You never grasped why he thirsted for power as much as he did. Perhaps, you thought, he tried to eliminate the feelings of not possessing any power whatsoever when he was young. Or it was to outgrow Klaus' shadow that has been resting on him and this city. Even now exiled on the other side of the river, he tried to rebuild what Klaus took from him. 

Marcel, similar to New Orleans was a Phoenix rising from the ashes. Burnt down countless times, defeated and broken, yet resilient. You wondered how he kept going after all this time. Possibly he was just better at moving past issues than you were. Or he was nothing but more skilled at concealing it. 

“I'll be right back.” You informed Kaleb, as Marcel announced the end of his drafting process. Marcel spotted you walking towards him out the corner of his eye, smiled and outstretched his arms, waiting for your opinion of his recruits.

“So, what do you think?”

“I don´t know, a little too groupy for me, to be honest.” You shrugged, “But I'm not a team player so what do I know?” 

“Fair enough.” He nodded and let his eyes wander for a second before he spotted Kaleb watching your conversation like a hawk. “Who is this guy?”

“A friend.” You answered, hoping he wouldn´t pester you with questions. You had no time to waste. 

“Since when are you making friends? Especially ones with death stares.”

“Well, guys with death stares are kind of my brand.” You joked, but Marcel was nowhere near laughing. Your smile fell and you cleared your throat before you continued “Anyway, listen, do you still own that cabin out in Terrebonne? I could use a little retreat.”

Marcel cocked his eyebrow “Who do you have to hide from now? I know you´ve been going the extra mile to piss people off lately, but that has to be a new record.” 

“Nobody yet, but there will be soon. I'm just getting the hell out of dodge before that.” You felt bad for only visiting Marcel to get something from him, but you were not exactly running on a lot of time. You were sure he understood. 

 “Cabin´s still there, but  I had it warded against magic a while back, so no zapping in and out of the place. You can disable it if you want once you´re there.”

“Great. So a road trip it is.”  You were not particularly thrilled of hanging out in a confined space with someone you barely knew. But there was no use in complaining.

"In that case,” Marcel continued “you´ll probably want your ride back. It's down at the docks, with all your stuff in it."

“Shit I haven't thought about that piece of metal since-”  You paused, but there was no need to finish your sentence. Marcel understood.

“I assume you have a passcode for the doors? Or do you want me to blow the door up to get in?” 

"Uh, yeah. It´s…" He scratched the back of his head in avoidance. 

The second you knew why he was stalling, your face fell “Don't tell me the password is…password.”

“No, of course not.” 

“It´s password, isn't it? You dumbass.” 

“It's a car, not an atomic bomb! As if anyone's gonna steal that old thing.” 

You slapped his shoulder, shoving him back a step or two “How dare you. You can insult me, but never that car, alright? It's been through a lot.”

He smiled before raising his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. Call me if you need backup with this one.” He nudged his head to Kaleb still standing where you left him.

“Thanks, but I never need backup.” 

----

You definitely needed backup. Even simply to hurl Kaleb out of the window for how annoying he was. Throughout the first few miles, he flipped radio channels with his magic, whistled along to every song that came on, or bumped his knees on the glove compartment repeatedly. He even asked about Marcel with such vigour, you barely managed to divert the topic. You knew many people had something against Marcel and his supernatural politics, you included, but Kaleb´s disapproval was on the upper spectrum. This only added to his questionable character.

You halted at a rest stop a few miles down the road after Kaleb insisted on getting road trip snacks. He had an extra pep in his step when he found the snack Aisle, you could see his excitement through the smudged storefront windows.You pulled out your phone when he disappeared into the back isles dialling a string of numbers you haven't thought about in the last decades. You tapped your foot throughout the beeping tone, anxiously waiting for the other person to pick up.

You heard a groggy moan before the scruffy voice of an old friend cut through. "Y/N ain't that a nice surprise.” Shank said, “It's been what 90 years?" 

"Yeah not exactly. We saw each other about a year ago in New York. Or have you forgotten?" 

Shank considered for a moment “Oh yeah something seems to brush through my drunken haze. I think. ”

Shank did not drink to forget like most, he drank to remember. He claimed that once he entered a state of non-sobriety, memories he had long forgotten would creep up. You always thought it was nice he even could forget anything at all. 

“Anyway,” Clearing your throat, you continued “I need you to do some dirty work.”

“Dirty work?” He sounded surprised yet elated by the prospect of digging up some dirt by either burying someone or by digging up secrets “What are we talking about? Murder, mayhem? Mayhem with some murder?”

“Not that kind of dirty. I need you to pull up all the records you can find for a guy called Kaleb. I don't have his last name, but I'll send you a picture.” You looked over your shoulder to check if Kaleb was already finished with getting snacks, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

“I see what I can do.” He agreed and you could hear him hammering on the keyboard through the phone “Is he a problem I need to know about?” 

“I don't know yet. I just want to make sure we're on the same side.” You explained, leaving out the details he had no use of knowing about “Thanks for doing this, by the way, I know I haven´t exactly been around.” 

“You can thank me by checking in with the boss.” 

Of course, he would bring her up. How could he not? He was so blindly loyal to her, it was a wonder that he was not killed yet.

“I don't know what Mae told you but I don't want to speak to her ever again.”

“Just call in, kid.” He seemed impatient in his wish, but, you had no intention of following through with it. That chapter was closed. 

“I'll think about stopping by instead.” You lied. You had no intention to go anywhere near the headquarters.

There was silence on the other end, then what sounded like a drink that was poured before Shank spoke once more "You can't. It's all gone." 

"What do you mean it's gone?”

“Haven't you heard? The Guerra Werewolf pack bombed the place. Did the same to the crescents on the Bayou. Whole building collapsed in broad daylight, almost everyone died. Some of them people were dumb as a ton of bricks, but they were family.”

“Shit. I didn't know.” 

"Nobody knows except Boss and I, and our high and mighty Mikaelson's of course."

"If there's anything I can do-”

“Nothing to be done.” He answered curtly, then returned to his task at hand. "I'll get you the info. Take care of yourself, kid.” And without another word, he hung up the phone. 

Entering the car, you leaned forwards after terminating the call, head pressing into the steering wheel. How have you not heard of the explosions? If you had, you would have made the Guerra werewolves suffer longer. Or at least dragged some of them back to the surviving members they could do with them whatever they liked. 

You pushed the thought away when Kaleb showed up at the register. You snapped a photo of Kaleb when he appeared at the register through the windshield, disguising your action as trying to find a signal. 

“Did you find it?” He asked through the opened passenger window before throwing the three bags worth of snacks behind him on the backseat.

“Find what?" You asked him, confused about what he meant.

“The signal?” He said when he opened the passenger door and hopped in   “I saw you from in there.” 

“Oh, yeah I got like one and a half bars at best.” You lied. before reaching out for the key stuck in the lock cylinder. Turning it with the foot on the clutch you started the car, ready to continue the journey.

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

On a lonely stretch of road close to Morgan City, Kaleb had finally resorted to looking out of the window for the first time since leaving New Orleans. Silence at last. Ah, yes. Hair breezing in the wind, soft tunes that played on the radio and some nice peace and...

“So New York huh?”  Kaleb asked and you had to stop yourself from burying your face in the steering wheel. 

...Quiet, yeah not so much.

“Just because we're working together, doesn't mean we have to talk.” You blew him off, “Also, is there an encyclopedia of Y/N somewhere I don´t know about or how do you know where I was?”

He smiled and said "Touchy, are we?”

"I don't know why you're surprised. Do I look like the person that ́is offering free hugs or something?"

"Well, if you ́re offering, I wouldn't say no." He shrugged, flashing a pearly white smile that you figured was deadly to girls' hearts in the vicinity. 

“Fine.” You sighed and turned the radio volume down. “Ask away. What about New York?” You hoped he would be satisfied with a few questions answered.

“You, uh, what do they say.”He tipped the tip of his finger against his lips as he considered “Ah yes dropped off the map. Then years later you resurface in New York. Why that filthy city out of the whole world to choose from?” 

You stranded there, was the short answer. The real answer was much more complicated. “I did it for the Bagels.” You shrugged.

Kaleb almost choked on a corn chip as your words registered “The bagels?” He said through a cough or two. 

“The bagels.” You confirmed, "And I spent some time there back in the '50s, so I knew my way around."

You did not tell him that you just found yourself in New York one night after you tried aimlessly to find something to dull the pain. You did not tell him that you spend weeks feeding through the drunkards that wandered the streets at night. Or how you made the top spot on the wanted list on several covens or small circles of witches for stealing spellwork. You had nothing to lose, and nothing to fear from any of them. You had your goal, and you did not care about casualties. 

So you lied. He had no use hearing any of those things.

“And what about your family? Did they visit you there?” He asked further.

Why do you ask so many questions, Kaleb?

You dug your nails in the fabric of the steering wheel at the mention of your so-called family. You have not seen Stefan or Damon in years. But only thinking about them resurfaced memories of the last time you spoke to Stefan on a lonely winter night in New York, months after everything that happened.

You remembered how cold your hands were from the freezing storm that iced the city overnight. There was another blizzard predicted to roll through in the day to come, but people in New York had experienced harsher winter conditions than that. You watched them drink their mulled wine and cinnamon-spiked coffee from the bench you were sitting on. The snowed-over trees of Central Park were a perfect backdrop for the winter wonderland they were seeking. 

The ring tone felt like an endless repetition of empty promises, each more disappointing than the last. What if he had no desire to pick up the phone? Or perhaps he was in trouble? Maybe you should- But then his voice cut through the silence. He didn't say your name just answered with a standard phrase you´d greet strangers with. You told him who you were and before you could explain that you wanted to make amends, he said: “Whatever it is, I can´t help you.” Then he hung up and left you in the cold with nothing but the light of your phone that remained the sole evidence for your conversation. 

Clutching the steering wheel tighter, you shoved those memories back where they belonged; behind a door and forgotten as so many have been. 

“I don't have a family” You finally said. “What about you? Got any family left?” 

“They're all crazy as loons.” He shook his head “No, my family these days contains of one person. The only one that's never given up on me.”

Huh. So you were in the same boat after all. Interesting...

“Is that the reason you started working for Esther? To be reunited with them?” 

“That's the primary goal, yes." He confirmed and reached for another chip in the bag. “So, New York.” He repeated once again  “What did you do?”

“I'm sure you´ve heard the stories. Everyone has.” 

“I rather get information from the source. Can´t trust chatter these days.”

“I've done what someone like me does.” You answered with the hope he would have the sense to stop pestering you with questions. 

“Well, darling, there is nobody like you, so have to be a little more specific.” The familiarity of the word of endearment made you turn your head and you glanced at him, but he was already staring ahead. 

“Murdered, maimed, pissed people off, you know, the usual. Bad things happen when people like me grieve.” You replied, focusing on the road ahead once more. 

“All that to get your boyfriend back?” 

You slammed your foot on the breaks, halting the car with a loud screech. You leaned over with fury dwelling in your eyes  "Let's get one thing straight, you'll never bring him up. Ever. Matter of fact, why don't we keep our history to ourselves."

"I didn´t-" 

You didn't let him finish. Instead, you turned the radio volume up, ending the conversation in an instant. You felt his stare every now and then and he nervously fumbled with his left hand and outstretched his fingers only to retreat them a moment later, as if he was regretting reaching out.

The song on the radio swallowed the silence as it played on, thick with grief as a man sang on about how he couldn't go on without his special person by his side. How absolutely cliche it was for the song to play right at this moment when you were reminded of him.  

If Kol was here he would point his finger into the air and utter “See there's the universe again. Laughing at us, taunting us, but also telling us we ́re on the right path.”The memories of his smile and the way it would outshine your grimmest thoughts drifted over you, a cruel reminiscence of paradise lost but never forgotten. You relived flashes of memories every day, in the place you dared not to touch nor let go. As long as you remembered, nothing was lost. Kol still existed. You still existed.

The road ended in a mess of mud and overturned ground as the song played out. End of the road for now. And that meant digging through the outskirts of the swamp. On foot. At that point, you started thinking this was a bad idea.

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

Birds settle on a power line across the dirt road leading to the cabin. Most birds gathered as a group, some were scattered, but one was sitting next to them and tilted his head to observe them.  They scattered into the wind when the cabin door behind you fell in the lock. You felt his eyes on you as he stepped forward on the roofed deck. Thanks to an invisible spell Kaleb was unable to see Mikael parading around with a wooden lance on the space before the cabin. 

“I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry.”His voice sounded remorseful and quiet as he leaned against the brittle railing where chipped-away paint chips rained onto the dirt. 

“It's fine. Just forget about it.”You brushed him off. You could have told him that he found your weak point, and that was not the mention of Kol, but the fact that you had forgotten about him for a moment and then Kaleb brought him up. 

“It's nice here. If you ignore the blasting heat.”He was trying to establish some sort of small talk, but you were never one to care for it, and certainly not now.

“Yeah.” You glanced at him through the corners of your vision. 

Above, the birds screeched and tore through the silence, and you looked up to see them retreat into the trees. It was getting dark now, stars had started to crack through the sky, some lighter patches, others clusters of faint and bold light. You gazed at those bright friends of the moon and the midnight blue canvas stole every thought from your mind. The carousel of worries was forgotten for a moment. That was one of the advantages of life outside of the city where stars were put to death every night by the shine of streetlights and suffocated by manmade pollution. 

You turned your head again and caught Kaleb's gaze in the light the oil lamp that swayed in the breeze provided. You had to warn him. Warn him about the danger he put himself in being here with you. People around you either leave or end up six feet under. He at least deserved some cautious words. 

“Listen,” You turned to him “everything I plan goes bad for me usually. And this time it's foolish too, so if you want out-”

“Nonsense. I'm with you. And I don't change my mind.” He said as a matter of fact as if standing by words was such a common thing to do "Besides, what am I supposed to do, play lapdog with Finn?" He scoffed and shook his head, the image alone too ridiculous to fathom. 

The corners of your lips tugged into a smile, an expression which was mirrored on his face. But, when he looked at you next, his face went pale. Before you could ponder about what he saw, you felt the warm liquid run down your nose even before you smelt the copper that taste. 

“Shit, sorry.” You wiped the blood away with the back of your hand which stained the fine lines that covered your skin with the crimson remnant ”You´re squeezy around blood, huh?”

"No-” He shook his head, then paused “that is why you said you´re living on borrowed time?”

You were surprised he heard that “Yeah. I just need to undo some things I´ve done before I kick the bucket. A monster seeking absolution. What a cliche, right? Whoever, be it the universe or whatever, that´s conducting my story has never heard of an original plot, that's for sure.” 

“You're not a monster. “ He said.

“Isn't drinking blood enough cause to be one?”

“That describes what you are, but who you are isn't defined by the things you've done. Nobody can be summed up by the total of their wrongdoings. I don't believe that, and neither should you.” You opened your mouth to deny what he declared, then stopped yourself from saying it. Kaleb noted your silence as a sign to drop the topic “I might be capable to help you figure out what causes this. If you let me.” 

“I have nothing to lose, so why not?” You shrugged, knowing that time would run out eventually. And at this rate, it won't be too long. “But first there's something you should know. I'm not working alone here.”

“I hope not, or I'd be nothing but a figment of your imagination.” He grinned and nudged your shoulder “As flattering as that is, I´d rather be real. Being invisible will drive you mad.”

“You better see it for yourself then.” You raised your hand towards the space Mikael had been training while you spoke, uttering one simple word to reveal him “Invisique.”

You watched Kaleb's expression closely as it dawned on him who remained only a few feet away from where he was standing. 

“Mikael.” He swallowed and withdrew with a few steps backwards, until his back hit the rigid wooden wall. He was scared. Good. That meant he wasn't a fool.

“So you know who he is. Good, that spares me the history lesson.” 

“How is he here?” He sliced his words in a sudden stern veer, and kept his back flush with the wall, not moving an inch. 

“Let's get inside and I'll tell you what you need to know.” Opening the door you went inside first, holding the door open behind you. “Don´t worry, he won't come near us.” 

Kaleb tore his eyes from Mikael and secured the door with his hand. Before entering he looked over his shoulder, suddenly feeling like he was being watched. He scanned the tree lines and the road up ahead but there was nothing to be seen. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something tussle the leaves in the distance beyond Mikael's training ground. And he feared that the storm above and the vampire that hunts vampires was the least of his worries. 

And who or whatever was watching him, he thought, surely agreed.

-----

A/N: And we´re back with another one! This is a little bit of a slower one, but I hope you liked it! If there anything that stood out to you or anything that you liked or disliked, let me know!!  I would love to hear your thoughts.

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[mcl-socialites]

just facts

I really want to wrap up all this anni stuff or put it away for the time being, but the inbox is piling up with more and more evidence and anons/people who wish to stay anon sharing their experiences with her.

someone has shared her long “woe is me” excuse post already.

she is trying to frame this blog as the bad guy in this situation, which i think is a very bad idea. as we already have plenty of evidence her actions and attitude towards others, and we’ve gotten confirmation that she is mass deleting from people who follow her, as well as mass blocking from those who have openly shared their experiences and thoughts, or have anonymously done so, but their stories are specific enough for their identity to be narrowed down. 

also, scrolling through this blog you will see that 1.) prior to anni publicly picking a fight with us, we were as a blog and as followers unanimously shifting this blog’s dynamic from personal gossip to jokes, venting, and game-based confessions. again, she publicly started a fight with [admin milk] and attempted to make it personal, then when called out publicly for her behavior she 1.) tried to threaten us and 2.) attempted to manipulate her own followers via victim complex. 

please notice how in her excuse post she claims we have no proof, then does not link to anything. that’s highly suspicious. also please take note that when anyone makes claims ((unrelated to personal one on one experiences/exchanges)) about her i always ask for the evidence to be submitted. You will see this if you go through the annidraws tag on our blog. To those who are sharing your personal stories with her on anon, i would like to extend this invitation to you as well. Please submit any evidence you may have. If you are worried about your identity being open to the public i can assure you that i will automatically block out your personal info or anything that can be traced back to you, unless told otherwise. That being said, I urge you to block anni before doing so because even with your personal info blocked out she will likely remember who you are and that can make you vulnerable to an attack. As stated before, she likely sends anon hate to people calling her out and disagreeing with her herself (not all but most, as evident by the screenshots i posted). 

also i notice she tries to claim that there are people out there who hate her so much that they would start lies, and concludes her post by saying that “...if you had felt this on your own, you’d know how much this hurts. And right now, I really wish those people would know, what kind of bullshit they are publishing and how much this can hurt people”. 

All I have to say about that is that this an emotional manipulation tactic she is trying on her more naive followers. it’s difficult to believe that a bunch of strangers on the internet all met up in secret to conspire specifically against her and come up with several personal based experiences, and several of the same publicly-know experiences in their own free time for no reward, benefit, or personal gain at all, and that this one person with so many enemies is completely innocent and resolved of her wrongdoings. And she wishes how people would know how it feels? Well, according to what’s been shared, they do. And it’s all thanks to her and her “army”. 

As for the photo evidence that is being submitted to us, we are keeping them in a file to be shared on a mass post, so that everything is neatly pulled together and easy for anyone to find.

Again, these people and ourselves have nothing to gain from making up lies about this girl. And where we are wrong, or proved to be wrong we will willingly admit to our mistakes and ignorance and come forward and apologize.

And for anyone worried about this blog or any of the evidence on it going away due to her threatening to report us; it’s a useless cause. 

Callout blogs/posts/websites are a regular occurrence on tumblr and all over the internet, and in order for it to be libel or defamation the things shared here would have to be 1.) Proved untrue and 2.) The source of the info. Which we are not. And in order for it to be be cyber bullying worthy of being controlled by any larger power (such as staff, etc) her life would have to be threatened, or her personal well-being in danger, which it clearly is not. Personal opinions on another person may count as gossip, however this cannot be stopped by the law.

To her claim of being “hacked” about the bitch-anons my final word is this: 

she is completely lying. She claims she reported the person, but doesn’t know who it is. Then how did she report the person? To report a person you’d have to have some sort of shareable information of them to find them. To report a general hacker to tumblr’s staff... well good fucking luck honestly. you can tell tumblr that your account was hacked and although they have no policy or guideline for this specifically, i’m willing to bet that’d they’d merely encourage you to step up your password security and not to click any suspicious links in an email, just as any other website would. And for those with little to no knowledge on how hacking works here’s an easily digestible break down (coming from a former hacker) 

1.) Personal hacking. A hacker is a person, and retains your account information somehow- it’s more than likely they’d have to have at least a minor personal relationship to you (although this isn’t entirely necessary) as well as a drive to hack into your account. Someone would have to be skilled enough to break into someone’s personal account (so in anni’s case- we’re talking about someone who either doesn’t know her at all but is a complete cyber genius who managed to get her private info just so they could send the word “bitch” to a few people- and mind that besides at least one person, they still opted to keep her identity anonymous. okay, lol sure that sounds believable- OR someone that knew her personally and was close enough to her to know her password- but again she “doesn’t know who it is” hmm. smells fishy.) Edit: Now mind that anon messages can be sent WITHOUT a tumblr account. I mean log out of your tumblr and go onto someone’s account who has anon on and send a message if you don’t believe me. So again- why would someone so skilled do something so stupid and pointless and time consuming??

2.) The alternative is a bot hacker. A bot hacker, which is created by a human- technology does nothing without command keep in mind, is normally a virus obtained by clicking on a suspicious link. Remember a few months ago how everyone was saying they were getting messages from their mutuals to send them bitcoin? Or those random non-descript blogs that ask people to review “their new game” or some other nonsense (typically ask for a donation as well) and have a link? Those are bots. The bots’ goal is 99% of the time to 1- ask for money or steal personal information which could lead to stealing money and 2- infiltrate more accounts to keep spreading the virus. Bots although they follow an algorithm and may vary the words used, always expedite their actions the exact same way every time- aka always through a pm, always through fanmail, etc but never through anon- there’s no benefit, and no info shared by the answerer can be sent back through the anon and to the hacker.

So, in conclusion, she absolutely did send those anons (and accidental non-anons) calling people a bitch. It’s a fine example of her poor temper and inability to control her outbursts and impulse toxic behavior.

please keep in mind that i am posting this without reviewing my grammar and spelling. and thank you to all the people who have been brave enough to confess their experiences and submit evidence. 

-admin milk

[grapsandclaps]

GRAPS AND CLAPS REVIEWS - REV PRO GLOBAL WARS UK

Hello and welcome everyone to this edition of Graps and Claps, this time taking me to the Brixton Recreation Centre for Rev Pro's big Global Wars UK show with the main event rematch for the Undisputed British Heavyweight between Minoru Suzuki and Tomohiro Ishii (a proper 2 dads in a car park match).

Early start for me to get down to London with a 50 minute bus from Rochdale to Manchester, followed up with a 2 and half hour train/tube trip to Brixton, arriving in what is an upmarket area of the nation's capital but on this impression with the wafting smell of fish in the air and a grey and miserable day this wasn't the upmarket area that it was supposed to be.

Only one boozer we visited here was a branch of the Craft Beer Co located near the Beehuve Wetherspoons. A mixture of 20 beers on tap either keg or cask plus a number of cans were on sale as well, the decor inside this pub was akin to an american diner of sorts with bright flashing boards and red leather seats.

A good 2 hours was spent in here meeting up with a number of wrestling luminaries including the Indy Corner's JP and Joe, whilst also looking outside at Mark Davis walking past in his socks and sandals - whoever thought this look was going to come back into fashion, but I'm not going to argue with Dunkzilla's fashion sense.

4 pints in here were mainly IPA based with the £5.40 Siren Brewery IPA being the best of the pints I had, when visiting here do expect to pay anywhere from £4.50 to £8 a pint but in all honesty it is maybe the best place for a drink near the venue.

With the time coming up to 345pm, our group decided to make our way to the Brixton Recreation Centre which was only round the corner and up one flight of stairs. This venue was in all sense and purposes a gym hall with bleacher seats on one side which were instantly filled, so what was supposed to be a seat for the evening ended up being a standing spot for the duration of the 3 and half hours.

Beer in here was a bit of a shambles with long queues of up to 15 minutes at one stage - our Geoff missed all of the second match thanks to this occurrence. Once they worked things out it did improve but it did feel all a bit like 'spoons with one serving behind the bar - if you cant handle pulled beer, just get cans in - its so simple!

Anyways rant about the £4 beer over with, lets get into the action with a big 9 match card that opened up with the current IWGP Jr. Champion Kushida taking on Kurtis Chapman who was replacing David Starr who was stuck in air limbo due to the airline company going bust but not notifying there passengers - complete shithousery on there part.

So with Chapman taking Starr's place we got down to action with an early feeling out process which Kushida got the upper hand of. A feature of the evening was the at times apathetic crowd that didn't half need a bit of geeing up from my stamping right foot, no wonder I have been walking like John Wayne today.

Despite the quiet crowd this was still a passable match with Kushida looking the best out of the two as he finished off Chapman in around 10 minutes with the Hoverboard driver for the 3 count. To be honest even though he took the match at short notice I didn't think anything stood out about Chapman, that a Josh Bodom could have maybe done a better job as a replacement but hey ho I digress.

Next up was an interesting Tag Team tussle between Ringkampf (Walter and Timothy Thatcher) vs L.I.J (Sanada and EVIL). Surprisingly there was a lot of offence against the Ringkampf boys especially on Walter from EVIL making the Austrian look vulnerable in comparison to his New Japan counterparts. Ringkampf eventually did come back into the match locking in duel sleepers on both Sanada and EVIL but they both managed to escape the Ringkampf duo's grip as they sent Walter packing to the outside, meaning that Thatcher was left all alone to be hit with the Magic Killer by EVIL and Sanada to get the big victory here in what I could count as a shock.

Match No.3 we had the arrival of Lord Gideon Grey who I haven't seen for ages since the whole feud with Grado and Colt Cabana a couple of years ago. Grey was here to introduce the match up between his Legion of Lords tag partner Rishi Ghosh whom he has recently had issues with at the most recent Cockpit show, his opponent was The Great O-Kharn who has been on the old Wayne Rooney hair growth programme - a proper mound of curly hair.

This was certainly a diversion from the fast paced New Japan feel but with a great bit of storytelling in between the ropes with Ghosh playing the plucky underdog against Grey's new charge O-Kharn who is currently undefeated and has visibly improved his ringwork since the last time I saw him at Altrincham vs Danny Duggan which was a total dud.

Ghosh managed to crawl out of O-Kharn's claw hold/slam to fightback but as the referee wasn't looking, Lord Gideon whacked his former best friend around the head with a cane to knock him loopy leading to O-Kharn to hit a reverse neck slam to get the three count, cue more ring announcing stylings from Gideon - I surprisingly enjoyed this match and well above my expectations.

4th up we had the clash between Chris Brookes and L.I.J's leader Tetsuya Naito who came out to a great reaction from the Brixton crowd. Early on Brookes fainted Naito to the outside by doing Naito's pose which only riled Mr. Naito who came in to kick Brookes in the shoulder to stop these shenanigans.

Brookes give him his due performed admirably against one of New Japan's big stars and he nearly picked up the shock victory with a Jay Driller for a 2 count, as Brookes was looking to finish things off he got laid out with not 1, but 2 Destino's from Naito who picked up the win in 11 minutes. A solid match but Naito was in house show mode for me wearing his T-Shirt for the duration of the match (come on Naito you have a better body than my fat arse).

Intermission Main Event with my dad's favourite wrestler Zack Sabre Jr. taking on Former NEVER Champion Hiroki Goto. It was during this I found that the current NEVER Champion is Taichi - christ almighty they must be running out of options 😞.

Lots of strikes and submissions in this one folks with ZSJ looking really good in the process and I would say he was quite dominant over his much larger oppponent, one thing I love about Zack are the countless transitions from hold to hold, he is just so fluid as an operator in the squared circle. Despite trying his best to submit Goto, Zack put away Goto in 15 minutes with a reverse bridge pin for the victory as he looks on his way to facing maybe EVIL or Naito in the futute, the Naito match could be a barn burner in my opinion.

Half time break of 10 minutes which stuck to the schedule, we returned with Mark Davis taking on Satoshi Kojima who as we have found out he has gained a great respect for bread of all things - I just can't imagine that Kojima has some Blackpool Milk Roll in his bread bin.

A hard hitting 10 minute match with many clotheslines and forearms in the ring corner by both men but it was Kojima who got the best of things as he hit the rapid fire chops in the corner to Davis to make his chest look like corned beef. Not long after that Kojima finished off Davis with the cozy lariat for the victory and as you may say - the breadwinner for the evening.

7th match up was between El Phantasmo taking on Rocky Romero in what I felt was a bit of a comedown match before the two what would be best matches of the evening. Early dives from both Romero and ELP were hit but when the action got back inside it was ELP who got the better of things as he put away Rocky Romero with a splash/moonsault combo to pick up the impressive victory, but in hindsight this match maybe could have been scrapped just to add a few more minutes elsewhere on the card.

8th match up was an anticipated contest that I was looking forward to seeing with Will Ospreay taking on Chris Ridgeway for whom it was great to see him getting this opportunity high up on this card.

As expected this duly delivered as Ridgeway tried to use many strikes to wound Ospreay but Will was more than his match as his ground game is greatly under appreciated as people still think of Will as ever the high flyer.

With the match coming to the boil, Ospreay looked to hit the Oscutter to Ridgeway but he was caught with a sleeper choke by Ridgeway to cause the tapout victory to end a belting match. After the match Ospreay had to be carried out as he picked up an injury during this contest, as Ospreay went to the back Josh Bodom came out to attack Ridgeway to possibly set up a match between them two in the future - Bodom bodywise looks amazing fantastic shape that hasn't been anywhere near the Holland's puddings.

8 matches, it is now time for your MAIN EVENT and what a main event this was for the Undisputed British Heavyweight Championship between Minoru Suzuki who is the title holder taking on Tomohiro Ishii. Once the singalong to Kaze Ni Nare had ended we got down to business as both Ishii and Suzuki both got into forearming each other really hard and Suzuki hitting some of the hardest chops I have ever seen - these made Walter's chops look like tummy tickles.

The action spilled to the outside to the merch desk and both also had a chair battle in which Ishii came off the worst but he did manage to beat the count to continue the match. With Suzuki on top, he even had time to give me a death stare telling me to zip it from clapping and stamping which elicited a OOOOOHHHH from the crowd as I shat myself.

Suzuki who as I said looked well on his way to victory, got a bit to complacent by not puttong away Ishii and he got duly punished for this as Ishii hit the match winning brainbuster to Suzuki in 24 minutes to end an amazing match and for me easily in my top 5 matches of the year - check this out on the VOD ypu won't be disappointed.

Show done it was time to leave the venue diwn the ultra wet stairs and say our goodbyes to everyone in our group who were all great company - always good to see JP and Joe and Grappl app creator Gareth, you should download the app from the play store to see what it is about.

Overall as a show this was very good if only for the last two matches which I whole hearteadly recommend that you watch. The downpoints though were maybe too many New Japan victories once again with Kojima and LIJ getting wins over talent that should be pushed to the hilt in Rev Pro in Ringkampf and Mark Davis.

With the early finish at 715pm, I managed to get the earlier train back to Manchester to arrive back in Rochdale for 1120pm to rest my aching limbs before going to work in the morning.

I hope you have enjoyed reading, any feedback and comments are welcome and I will return next with a review of Futureshock Wrestling from Prestwich this Saturday, so until then - BYE!!

#grapsandclaps

@oggypart3

[seo1code-blog]

How to Optimize Your Website for Search Engine Use

Content still reigns as the king in the world of Search Engine Optimization (SEO). Some websites get on top of search engine rankings because of high-powered link building campaigns, but when you talk about visitor loyalty and traffic retention (and yes, public consumption), it will always require that good old optimized content.

Steps

1Dedicate some time to writing really great content. The saying goes that you should write for people first and search engines second. This basically means you should be creating really quality pieces that are useful and engaging for humans because the search engines will recognise your efforts. Your readers will share your work generating additional backlinks, not to mention extra traffic, and search engines will recognise your quality piece because it will flow naturally with not too many keywords (something which is penalized in the post Penguin Update world).

2Get links to your pages from other trusted websites.

3Complete all image attributes. Pictures dress up your pages but search engines don't really know how to deal with them unless you complete all the nitty-gritty details like title, caption, alternate text, description. Be ethical though, don't use it as an opportunity to cram an extra few keywords onto the page as this will likely have a negative impact on your search engine ranking. Some people search for what they are looking for via Google image search, if your image is highly visible then your potential customers will likely visit your page.

4Diversify internal anchor text links. There needs to be variations in the text when one creates those blue-highlighted anchor text links. The links on a page are what the search engine spiders follow in determining where they are being led. The text used in the links are used in helping the search engines figure out what the page it leads to is all about.

5Incorporate branded keyword terms. Incorporating your branded keywords into your SEO campaign is also important when it comes to link building and anchor text. If you continually use the same non-branded keywords as anchor text links throughout content it appears to the search engines that you are trying to manipulate search results for that term. Instead, you want to keep your anchor text linking natural. A good way to do so is to link to the brand a significant amount of the time, since that’s probably how someone with no SEO knowledge would link back to your website.

6Take note of word count. Although it’s been a classic rule that “readers online do not read”, it simply doesn’t mean that one has to deprive the online users of good, meaty content. Stick to at least 250 words a page. SEOs know that writing down for an appropriate length of text means being more able to include more related terms for the target keywords. In order to help with the page-browsing experience, consider using large fonts to draw the eye to key headline points. This will make for a page that is broken up well into sections that answer the question the reader is looking for.

7Avoid duplicate content. The content on your website should be unique from other pages on your site, and from external sites as well. Consider using a tool such as Siteliner to look for duplicate content.

Write content people want to share on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and other social networks. The search engine will read those social signals as a signal of the quality of your domain. You can accelerate the spread of your content on these sites by having an account on these social networks with lots of followers.

Consider submitting your content to sites like Reddit, Delicious, Digg and other content aggregators that might gain you a few readers.

Go back and SEO rewrite some old content. Chances are you know stuff about search engine optimization that you didn't know last year (not to mention changes in SEO best practices since last year). Re-visit some old content and re-write it with your search engine optimisation hat on, updating image attributes, changing keyword density, adding links to your home page and other relevant content on your site. Even consider republishing as a fresh article for extra brownie points with the search engines!

Even if you are new to the web, you have natural links you could try to get. All businesses have suppliers whether they be accountants, solicitors or raw material providers. All these suppliers are bound to have a website, contact them to ask for a link back, but do not offer a link in exchange. Link exchanges don't violate Google's TOS, but they will now work against you. When building links, always give other site owners a reason to want to link back to you. Perhaps write an article based on a particular client - everyone likes bragging rights and this can gain you additional links without even having to ask. All Google wants to see is links that have an editorial right to be there.

Look to make use of co-citations (also known as co-occurrence). This is a way to show Google a link or relationship a website might have, based upon the site being mentioned from multiple sources. Generally co-citations do not have a direct hyperlink to a website.

Page Format Issues

1Title Tags The first is your page title. It’s very important to put keywords in your page title; specifically try to get important keywords first and try to limit the overall length of your page title. Well-constructed title tags contain the main keyword for the page. It should contain less than 65 characters with no stop words such as: a, if, the, then, and, an, to, etc. Your title tag should also be limited to the use of alphanumeric characters, hyphens, and commas.

2Header Tags Next, it’s important to look at the header tags on your site-h1, h2, h3, h4 and so on. H1 is the most significant. Make sure you have the most important keyword labeled as h1 tag. This will help you with ranking for your site, especially if someone is searching for that particular key word or phrase.

3Page Content Next up is the content. You definitely want to put your keywords in the contents somewhere, but the object, though, is to make sure the content is very well written for visitors to your website. You want to insert the keywords for that page only where it makes sense. Page content should have between 300 and 700 words of descriptive content that contains the keywords specified in the keywords meta tag for the page. You also want to try to optimize your URLs. Make sure to include important keywords in the URL.

4Meta Tags Next are the Meta keywords and Meta description. These are pieces of code behind the scene. The code should look something like this: It should be placed directly under the title tag code <title> Your site title</title> <meta name="description" content="your site description" <meta name="keywords" content="keyword1, keyword2, keyword3" Your keywords meta tag should contain between 5-10 keywords or keyword phrases that are also found in page content. Also one more important meta tag is description tag that contains information about the page's content so you can persuade search engine users to visit your web site. It should have 15-160 characters, remember not to stuff it with keywords.

5Navigation Next is to have proper navigation. Each page of your site should contain links to every other page so search engine spiders can find every page. This is an important step for the proper indexing and page ranking for your site.

6Site Map Next is having a proper site map. It's important to use two site maps for your website--an XML version and a static version. The XML version can be created by sitemap generators tools such as http://www.xml-sitemaps.com. The sitemap should then be submitted to the Google Webmaster Tools account for that site. This will aid in crawling of Google's Spidebot. The static version should be an HTML page that contains links to every other page. You should also reference your XML sitemap location in your robots.txt file.

Community Q&A

How do I change my SEO for my website if it isn't making me money?Karthikeyan RajaChoose the right set of keywords which will help you in maximizing your ROI. You might consider hiring a SEO expert to increase traffic to your site, which is how you will make money. Although it's an initial expense, it could pay off in future revenue.Not Helpful 4 Helpful 0

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The criteria used by Search Engine to rank websites

Tips

Usage of JavaScript, Flash & frames. Search engines can't always correctly process links on JavaScript, therefore it is desirable to use them as little as possible. The elements of a site executed in Flash are not indexed by many search systems. If internal links of the project are made in Flash, the majority of search systems will not find these pages. Each time when there is a new page on a site, it becomes to the known search engine only when it will be found by the robot of the search engine. If the page is located in the heart of a site, it can occur very much at a distant day. Sitemap placing frequently solves a problem of indexation and site reindexation.

SEO-friendly content is no longer the restrictive, robotic-sounding content it used to be. Search engines, in their aim to continuously refine searching are catering more to the online readers, the social aspect of the World Wide Web. Content comes out to be more human-centered, and ready for consumption.

Adding images to your site is always helpful as when one is looking for a piece of information they also use image search.

If you have a local business, get listed in the Google Local Business search results. 86% of people looking for something offline will search online using the likes of Google and Bing. Even businesses like hairdressers and butchers can't afford to miss out on a spot of search engine optimization. Head over to the Google Local Business Centre and add your business to the map, that way your business info and contact details will appear next time a potential customer searches for a service you provide in your local area!

While adding business make sure that all the fields are added correctly especially the category and areas served. Most of the times they are added wrongly that makes them to loose perspective search and leads.

Dynamic pages are tough to index as they contain too many special characters. Some bots take a much longer time to index those pages or sites as well. Try to avoid dynamic writing of site pages.

[justfangstvdto]

Open Coffin 2 | Chapter 02 “Lovely Day For A Riot”

Disclaimer: This is a sequel! Find Part 1 here. For some context, I´d advise you to watch The Originals to understand some occurrences.

Chapter warnings: typical TO violence (and the reader is enjoying it a little too much in this one tbh), blood, murder, and some more subtle foreshadowing

Word count: 4779

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is my lifeblood and keeps the writing coming.

Open Coffin 2 Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

The written word was everlasting. King to Beggar, Poets to Wallflowers, Monsters to Saints - they all had the opportunity to be immortalized, to be remembered once they´ve turned to bone or ash.

That, you always thought, was why your brother Stefan resorted to writing in his diary and why you chose to write letters to Kol when you were last here in 1914. To leave something behind in case your almost immortal life ended sooner than you thought. Now those letters served as a reminder of what might never be again. Yet, with uncertainty came the need to check on them in their hiding spot. 

So that's what you did. 

And it was as if you ́d stepped back in time. The cemetery was untouched in almost every way. Only the weathered stones and visible marked lines of the flooding after Katrina were reminders of how much time had actually passed. 

Another change that was eerily unnoticeable once you reached the older part of the cemetery, was the relocation of gravesites the City council had ordered. You thought it macabre to relocate someone's resting place as if they were nothing but a waste of space. 

What was once the Voodoo Queen ́s Laveau’s tomb was now only a monument in her honour. But what the tourist who resorted to smearing words with permanent marker on that very stone didn't know was the hidden compartment in the back. It was sealed with numerous spells, followed by a specific order of bricks you had to push in. 

Panic filled your senses when you saw the bricks already pushed in and the secret compartment opened wide. There was a dirt film on the stone surface and nothing but empty space in the compartment beneath all the dust. 

You reached in, hoping they just shifted back, but all you grasped was a layer of leaves that found their way inside.

The letters were gone. 

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

You could not wrap your head around who could have had access to your letters, and who would even care to steal them from you. They were not just letters, they were confessions of loneliness, frustrations, confessions of love. Whoever had them now, they knew your deepest emotions, some buried six feet under others worn on your sleeve - but all secret. 

Even now staring at the grimoire in front of you, surrounded by Kol's hideout, you couldn't think of anyone who knew about them. The only one you told was Kol back in Mystic Falls when you thought you were dying. But there was no time to dwell or be embarrassed by your secrets laid bare. 

You had work to do, and you had to focus. Unfortunately, focus was hard to come by when you had someone breathing down your neck. 

“How frustrating. A novice trying to interpret the work of a master.” Mikael paraded around, sighing dramatically. 

“Can you shut for one second?” You glared at him “I´m busy here.” 

You had summoned him back in New York with the promise of delivering Klaus on a silver platter. He was another part of your plan, one that was - by a longshot - the most dangerous. But you had to have an insurance and Mikael was the only one who knew Esther better than anyone else. If Esther would trick you into a wrong spelling, Mikael would be able to tell. 

“It's a simple de-linking spell,” You explained further “It's not that hard.”

"Simple? You're trying to erase the link between Klaus and every single vampire he's sired.

"No. All I care about is Marcel and my brothers. You kill Klaus? They die, too. I can fix that. I have Esther's grimoire, it's just a matter of time." 

“Perhaps I can help you solve the riddle.” He offered.

You flipped the book closed and looked at him “Do you think I´m stupid? You ́ll just trick me into a spell that will free you from my control.”

“You know, for somebody who despises Klaus so much, you certainly share his paranoia.”

You didn't like the comparison, but he was right. And it pissed you off. 

“And for somebody who wasted years hunting him, you don't know him at all. He won't just come here if I ask him to. I have to gain his trust, offer my help until he takes the bait. And that takes time.” 

He seemed satisfied with the answer. "The sooner you perform the spell, the sooner I'll be free to kill the bastard." 

"I'll bring Klaus to you when the time is right. It's not right yet. I have to save a few people first."

"I assume my son included. Let me ask you this, why have you resurrected me instead of him?"

"I tried, but I couldn't find him on the other side before it collapsed. By the time I had enough power and knowledge, it was too late.”  

Thinking back to the countless hours spent searching, consulting with witches on the other side and reading page after page of all grimoires - it hurt producing failure upon failure. 

Mikael went quiet when you pulled out your phone, sending a text to Klaus number. 

Y/N: Still stalling Esther. Let me know if you need help kicking some ass. 

Klaus: Meet me at the Compound in 30 minutes.  

"I'll be back soon.” You informed him” Don't go anywhere. Oh wait, you can't." 

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

“Okay so let me get this straight;" You said, looking between Elijah and Klaus. "A resurrected witch you knocked around with put some sort of spell on you that sucked up all your hybrid slash original power to juice up moonlight rings? And those moonlight rings were given to the Guirrerra wolf pack?"

"That about sums it up, I'd say." Klaus shrugged, leaning back on his office chair. 

"You and your bad taste in women, I swear." You shook your head.

"Well,” Elijah that leaned against the fireplace´s mantel said, “Niklaus is renowned for choosing strange bedfellows." He grinned and dragged a finger along the mantel´s surface, flipping the dust of his fingers in disgust. He probably had to arrange additional meetings with the maid.

"Yeah, you can say that again." You snorted. You could not count on one hand how many times a fling of his screwed him over. And not in the good way. 

Klaus rolled his eyes, "Can we please return to the task at hand?"

"Right" You sighed, hating to get back on track so soon "Moonlight rings. How many do you think are left?”

"We successfully retrieved all but a small group which deserted the fight," Elijah informed.

"So we ́re fighting cowards.” You concluded. ” Easy. Do you know where they're hiding?" 

Elijah walked up to the map placed on the table, resting his finger on "They remain in public, hoping we won't retaliate out in the open."

"Which we don't give a shit about right?"Elijah glanced at Klaus who returned a look of hesitation."Oh, come on, really? I expect Elijah to go according to the rulebook, but you too? "

"There are certain rules we must abide by in this city." Klaus returned. 

You could not believe what you heard. Klaus following rules was something entirely new "You ́ve lost a few steps over the years. But works for me either way. ́ll just do it myself."

"You alone against a pack of wolves?" Klaus dismissed as if he'd forgotten that you were able to handle a much greater threat than a few moon howlers. 

“A few wolves are nothing. You forget I have some new tricks up my sleeve. And I really really need to kill something.” You were ready to leave, ready to deal with those wolves out in the open. 

But Elijah had other plans.

“Before you go, a word please." Elijah looked at his little brother, asking him without words to leave the room. Klaus seemed surprised, perhaps even insulted that Elijah wanted him to go. 

"He can stay." You reassured him, much to their surprise, "Whatever you have to say to me he can hear. We ́re a team, right?" 

Elijah hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in."Given your past grievances, I cannot help but question your Intentions regarding your alliance with us."

And there it was. The usual patronizing tone that made it obvious that he thought himself still superior and you lesser than. You could move mountains and he'd still question your intentions. In this case, it was not far fetched to assume the worst, but you thought at least he ́d give you some leeway. 

"If you think I want to kill him again, don't ́t worry.Been there, done that, got the shitty fridge magnet."

“Judging by the company you keep, I cannot help but doubt the truth of your words.”

“Not really my problem is it? I can only say what I want to say, I have no control how you perceive it.” You shrugged “And my company was once a part of your family, but we all know that writing them off is one of your specialities.” 

Klaus laughed out loud, amused by the way you dared to talk to his older brother.  

“It is your problem if you wish to stay in my good graces” Elijah replied, unfaced by your comment. 

“No offence, but I don't give two shakes of a rats ass if I ́m in your or anyone ́s good graces. I ́m here to take Esther down and bring Kol back, that's it. I don't expect you to like or agree with it.” 

Elijah raised his eyebrows and cringed at your nonchalance. He wasn´t used to someone speaking to him in that way. He clenched his jaw and reacher for the button on his suit jacket and forced it through the Buttonhole. He would always do that before he got into a fight, a physical or verbal one.

Klaus ́ amused smile fell and he chimed in before the situation escalated “Brother I think that's enough.” 

“I agree." You glared at Elijah before looking at Klaus, directing your next words to him “If you want to join me now's the time.”

"I'll meet you there," Klaus replied and you left the room, ready to fulfil the plan. 

“She seems well,” Klaus said once you were out of earshot. 

“On the contrary, brother. Heed my warning, she does not have our best interest at heart."

“You must not remind me of the danger she now bleeds out into the world. Which is precisely why I intend to give her my trust. For now.” Klaus stepped forward, ready to follow you but Eliah held him back once more.

“She cannot know our secret.”He shakes his head, demanding eye contact “Not while mother and Finn still breath air.”

"She won't. I'll see to that personally.” Klaus reassured before he too disappeared out of the room. 

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

You parted the crowds unintentionally heading to where the pack frequented. 

Looking at the people that passed you by, you wondered what stories they desperately needed to hide, and how they would react when those secrets were now known by someone hidden in shadows. You felt uneasy, knowing that there was someone out there who knew what was only intended to be read by the only person you trust. Now they were out there, ready to be used against you. 

Entering Rossiuss, you kept your eyes sharp, searching the crowd for the wolves. But besides a few afternoon drunkards, college kids and a group in the back there was no sign of your target yet. 

You settled for your booth in the back with a drink in your hand. As you passed by tables and people recognized you, they retreated to the front. Some chose the bar, others on the other side of the room, only in an attempt to be as far away from you as possible.  

Soon, the whispering began, as it always did.. Ah the whispers..how you wanted to silence them all. 

You sat there for a good hour pretending to read the book you bought, checking the time every few pages. There was absolutely no sign of the pack, nor of Klaus.

He was late, as always. He said he had to deal with something else first, but promised to be back for the action. But he wasn't. Who arrives to a good ol ́ slaughtering too late? A thousand-year-old vampire, with so much blood spilled he got bored of it, that's who.

It was unbelievable. What were you supposed to do until he decided to arrive? Sulk in the silence you despised until the wolves showed up? 

Pfft. Nobody valued punctuality anymore. 

The door rattled again and a few more stepped into the establishment. Among them was a tall guy that seemed to steal the attention immediately. He was towering over most with his height and radiated confidence with how tall he stood. Although his appearance seemed somewhat juvenile, his calm and unhurried nature made him look quite composed. In this city, and especially in the tense situation it has been in for months, he seemed out of place. He was too happy to stay alive here.  

You watched him observe the cowering crowd on the left side of the room, then your side, then back again before he was headed straight into your direction.  You pretended to read the lower lines on the page, hiding your face behind as much book as you could without looking like a complete idiot. What was he trying to prove talking to you?  

His heartbeat was erratic when he sat down, so much so, you saw his fingers rising and falling with his pulse. You observed him, glancing over the edges of the book. 

He had slightly curled brown hair and what looked like grey to blue eyes. You were unable to tell in the dimmed light. He had something familiar about him, but you could not put your finger on it. Perhaps you've crossed paths somewhere before. Or perhaps he had just a face you easily mistaken for someone else. 

After a few moments of silence, you decided to speak “You sure you want to sit here with me?” 

“It's the best seat in the house. And I like to piss people off.” He said, his British accent trickling through his speech. He looked over his shoulder, scoffing at the people that stared at him “Look at them, knickers twisted in a nod already.”

"What, are you some against the stream type of guy?"

"You have no idea." He smiled. It wasn't the kind of smile you ́d see every day, it was drunk with stories untold and probably on the defiant side "Or maybe you do." 

He watched you intently, as your eyes drifted on the table and the book still open in your hand. 

“I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad.” 

“What?” You asked, and he lifted his head to nod to the book. “Oh. You ́re a fan of Wuthering Heights?”

“I ́m a witcher with remarkable taste.” He shrugged "In books and company." 

Ah, a witch. You knew there was something he was hiding. There was something in the way he held himself that bled familiar secrecy. You were an expert juggling several secrets at once, figuring out if someone else carried them was easy. 

“Brave of you to admit that.” You replied, “It's not really save for you here right now.”

Despite your warning, he did not look like he would leave any time soon, “What can I say, I ́m a thrill-seeker.” 

The door rattled once again, this time it fell into the lock with a loud banging. You looked over and recognized the Guerrera wolf pack immediately.

“Yeah well, it's about to get really thrilling here.” You said and the stranger next to you roamed your face with an intense stare you shifted uncomfortably on your seat. “You should probably leave if you want to keep your limbs attached to your body. They´re not fucking around.”

 “Nonsense.” He shook his head slightly. ”They ́re nothing but rabid dogs that need to be put down.”

You expected him to run, or to look at you as if you lost your mind, but instead, he hopped on board of the murder train.  Not that you were complaining. 

“I don't ́t know who you are, but you're definitely speaking my language now.” You said “What's it gonna be? You ́re up to cause some trouble?”  

“Well, it's a lovely day for a riot, isn't it?” He replied.

“A riot, huh? Not a bad idea.” 

He scooted closer and lowered his voice, “Do you see the group in the back? A rival werewolf pack with a score to settle.”

“You gotta love coincidences sometimes.”  

All you needed was a little push. A shoulder colliding, a hateful glare or - god forbid - an insult. That would be all it took to start a fight. They were so easily manipulated, it was almost comical.

You looked at the group on the other side of the room. They were heavily engaged in a conversation, and all but one listened eagerly. One girl was off to the side, quietly listening to groups meaningless chatter, while she stared holes into the other pack´s backsides.

The quiet ones were a breed of their own. They were the ones observing when the rest was talking their life away and that made them dangerous when they finally spoke. They saw what others overlooked. And that was always the perfect target to rile up. 

You gave her a little magic courage by whispering a spell into your hand before you let your breath carry it over to where she was sitting.

She slammed her glass on the table, the malty liquid spilling over the edges. Her companions looked at her briefly, before they returned to their conversation.

She walked over and knocked the drink out of one guy ́s hand with the force of her shoulder colliding with his much larger frame. He turned to her and recognized her face - his packs rivals - instantly.  

There was stillness first before the girl threw the first punch, then there was suddenly movement. Both sides rose from their seats and clashed together. Screams broke out. Furniture ripped. Bones broke. Blood was spilled.

It was magnificent chaos.

One of the participants on the sidelines decided to head for your table, dodging a broken off table leg that flew through the air. You shared an unimpressed look with the stranger next to you before he leaned back and gave you free rein to do what you wished to him.

With a look that bled concentration and the rubbing of your index finger with your thumb, you magically splintered every single bone in his body. The sound was drowned in the backgrounds happenings that included shattering glass, growling and howls of pain. He continued to scream bloody murder, and then, suddenly his face grew stoic as if made of stone, and he fell forwards, his jaw colliding with the edges of the table.

“Wrong table to squabble with, mate.” The stranger snickered. He leaned back, dodging a scrap of wood that came flying in his direction.

His amusement was short-lived, however, when he failed to sense a second, much larger piece of wood - a broken off table leg knocked him square into the back of his head, and he slumped forward, his head colliding with the table surface. 

"Shit." You whisper under your breath. You listened for his pulse, hoping he hadn't just broken his neck, but his heart was still drumming along just fine. 

Something peaked out of the bag hung over his shoulder, a written letter it seemed. On a second look, you couldn't believe what you saw. They were in your handwriting. 

You did not have the time to ponder about how the stranger got them, because someone rapidly approached from behind. You moved just in time, and the makeshift stake pierced through your shoulder instead. 

“Ah, the free stake for my drink. How nice.” You forced the guy off of you, and you gripped the stake and pulled out from the front. “Can I keep or do you want it back? You want it back, right?”

It was slick with your blood when you hurled it towards the attacker. It flew through the air and landed in his eye, piercing the iris like a bullseye.

“Damn my aim is good.” You congratulated yourself. The attacker, though now most likely blind on one eye, growled and you knew you´d finally had someone almost equal to fight against. “Come and get me.” 

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

You held the letters in your bloodstained hands when a set of heavy footsteps echoed through the now lifeless room. You looked over your shoulder to see Klaus standing there, taking in the chaos you created. 

One wolf was impaled on the wall, others stained the floor with blood that came out of their eyes and some had gaping holes in their chest where their hearts had been. 

“What is this?” He asked, counting the casualties to more than a dozen. Both supernatural and human.

“A party gone wrong. Or right, depends how you look at it.” You laughed and gave him a glance in the hopes he would reciprocate your joke, but he wasn't laughing. 

Instead, you saw how dishevelled he looked. His dark jacket had a gaping hole with what looked like dried blood on the edges. 

“Looks like I ́m not the only one that got staked.” You said and brushed your fingers over the same spot. 

His eyes flickered from your wound to his own, and judging by his face he discovered something close to an epiphany. "It appears so." 

You went back to counting the moonlight rings by throwing them in a make-shift bag out of some dead guys shirt. “But look, I made it look like a very deadly bar brawl, it's fine. Nobody saw anything supernatural. ” 

“Though you did achieve what we discussed, we also agreed to be discreet. This is far from it. ”

You could not believe what you heard. Klaus and discretion was like war without casualties - simply not possible. 

“Seriously, what happened to you? Where's the big bad wolf I know and loathe?"

“At lost has happened.” He replied quietly. You expected him to reply with usual sarcasm, but when you turned an utterly different version of the mighty Klaus laid before you. A broken man, torn apart by the love and loss of his child. Once fueled by rage, he now ran on guilt and grief. 

You felt pity for him, you did, but this was still Klaus. But however morbid and unfair it might have sounded, it could have happened to someone less deserving of such grievances. 

"Losing the only person who'll never see you as the monster you truly are hurts, doesn't it?" You finally said, “Especially if you're to blame.”

His face was hard, but regret slipped past his stoicism, and you knew he understood that what just slipped past your lips was directed mostly at yourself, rather than him. 

“This one is still alive.” Klaus diverted the topic to the stranger that was still passed out on your table. 

"Leave him."

“Friend of yours?" He asked with a slight smirk that tugged on the corners of his mouth. 

“I don't know yet.” You replied, before tying a knot in the shirt “Catch.” 

You threw the bag to him, and the silver rings clacked together when Klaus balled his fist around them.

“Listen, I have to report back to Esther soon, and you ́ll hear things that ́ll probably piss you off. Just remember that I am not working against you. You'd be the first to know if I did."

"Well, you do look quite trustworthy kidnapping that lad. How could I not trust you with the person I loathe most?"  

“I guess you have to put your paranoia aside and trust me for once.” 

The irony of what you just said, almost made you laugh. If Klaus knew you had the person he feared most trapped only a few miles away. If it ever came to him knowing about your involvement in reviving Mikael, you ́d be on a real warpath with Klaus. Not the cat and mouse game you used to play, a real war where your odds less than optimistic.

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

No passport, no driver ́s licence, no name - you found nothing to identify the stranger you dragged through the French Quarter. How did a Noname like him get to your letters? How could he have possibly known? If he knew about that hiding spot, what else 

All these questions ran through your head, staring at the French Quarter streets below you. You chose this building because it was small, unconscious and out of the way. It had somehow managed to elbow it ́s way between a block of apartments and was longer than it was wide and the rooms were stacked on top of one another like a house of cards.

Ambulance sirens rang through the narrowed streets, heading to Roussous. Finally, someone found them. You always found it amusing that, after a massacre or any life-ending violence they chose to send ambulances instead of coroners as if someone was still needing it. They lived amongst creatures that were death walking on two feet, and even then they chose to remain hopeful, that somehow they too were able to cheat death. 

Unwavering hope ....yeah no, that ship had sailed. 

Your ears picked up stirring and a pained groan from inside, and you went inside. He was sitting up on the couch in the middle of the room, looking around to orientate himself. You thought about chaining him to the radiator, but it would have been overkill. 

“Kinky.” Noname chuckled, inspecting the witch shackles you put on him when he was unconscious “Under different circumstances, I ́d say this is bound to be fun. This isn't quite it.”

“If you ́re thinking about strangling me with those chains, forget about it. You wouldn't succeed.”

“Oh, I know I wouldn't. You ́re Y/N after all.” He said, and grinned when he saw the surprise flashing over your face “Though I have to say, you ́re way prettier in person.” 

Was this guy serious? 

“So you know who I am.” You said, glancing over his flirtatious attempt to gain your sympathy. 

“Well, you're practically famous around here.”He shrugged “ I ́m a lot like you, you know? Don't really believe in authority. We ́re.. kindred souls.”

You let out a huff. This guy was killing you with his endless chatter.

“Listen, there's only one thing I need to know before I decide what to do with you.” You picked up the letters on the table in front of him “Who the fuck are you, and how did you get these?” 

“Well, that's a rather long story. But let's start at the beginning.” He said and stretched out his hand as far as he could, “My name is Kaleb.”

-------

A/N: And we´re back with another one ^^ If you´re still reading this when I post it, you´re probably used to me being slow as hell, so sorry once again. Uni, work and life just get in the way of my writing even more than it has months ago. So feel free to wait until more chapters of this are done, I won´t mind. 

Anyway, what did you think of this one? Did you like it? Was there anything that stood out to you? Anything that you liked or disliked? Whatever it is, let me know! I would love to hear your thoughts.

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