#c!madduo

[sundewhasaudhd]

It’s late, I have school tomorrow, I was scrolling through the TGWDLM, and this popped into my head, so I made it and now will be presenting it to you

ESPECIALLY LovePoison!MAD duo

[sioster]

Bloody boy

Click for better quality

[dreamsclock]

Write about MAD duo

Ok!

How do you write an ending?

The correct answer is that you don’t. The ending writes itself. Hits when least expected, ravages everything in its path. Destroys gods and blesses the underdogs. Renders the world and its occupants reeling in the aftermath. The ending is the ending is the ending and Dream, God, is so fucking tired.

Despite his terror and frustration when the server dies, for one stupidly emotional moment, he’s relieved.

And in that moment he thinks he sees Wilbur.

Not as he’d become: maddened, jaded, never without a cigarette and that old coat that hadn’t been washed in months. But as he’d been (as he always will be, in Dream’s mind): healthy, standing tall and proud in his L’Manburg uniform, a smile on his face that reeks of ambition and drive and knowing.

It had turned Dream’s stomach then. It makes him reach out now.

Wilbur grins as his hand locks with Dream’s, only briefly. The touch sends electric jolts up Dream’s arm: or maybe that’s the shockwaves from the missile hitting, he doesn’t care anymore doesn’t know. But for a moment he’s startled by the connection. “Look at that,” Wilbur muses, eyes alight, “your finished symphony.”

Dream can’t breathe. Smoke and silence clogs his lungs. His body is weightless, momentarily, floating in an abyss where his senses are smothered by Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur. Says his name now, mouth unwieldy and untethered. “It’s not my symphony,” he says, and Wilbur laughs.

“Guess not.” The older man is drifting away, form dissolving in sudden rays of sun. “You didn’t even finish it in the end, did you? Didn’t even get to give yourself the ending you wanted.” Wilbur’s smile is wry and wide. “So much for the prison. So much for the plan.”

Dream’s eyes are blinded. Shielding them, he calls out, exposed and raw: “You knew this would happen. Didn’t you?”

A laugh rings in his head as he blinks awake, bleary-eyed and brightening at the sight of an unfamiliar server. There’s a sun in the sky and a path under his feet, and it almost feels like home. But it’s missing cigarette smoke: and Dream can’t help but feel like someone is watching over him, resigned to watching history repeat, as he turns to start his new life.

[csundewsaysfuckitwebawl]

Um what is this place ? I did kind of end up here with little to no information of where I am Lucky says

Ooc: it'd be interesting if cwilbur brought up cdream and that's lucky's first time hearing about cdream

Oh, this is the Dream SMP :D. Sundew says, as if that explains literally everything at all (my daughter’s kinda dumb, but that’s ok, that’s ok /ref)

(oh, you just did something VERY dangerous by asking me to talk about c!MAD duo >:3)

[ladyddanger]

Max rants about his c!madduo headcanons

Thinking about my c!Madduo post La'manberg war pre Manberg era headcannons. Post war because they technically came to treaty/peace arrangement Dream and WIlbur have to play nice with each other. This quickly turns into them trying to annoy each other as much as possible without looking bad in the press.

One year after the treaty was signed Dream and Wilbur meet and symbolically shake hands in front of the hot dog van. Dream tries to break Wilbur's hand with a handshake. Wilbur steps on his foot.

Wilbur "forgets" Dream's invitation to an important party in the mail and lies that the mail service "must have lost it" Dream responds by sending all messages between them through the great smp mail since "clear the mail there can't be trusted."

They hate each other. In public they act like best friends. Both of them are miserable.

[sundewhasaudhd]

My DSMP moots talking about c!Wilbur, c!TNT duo, c!MAD duo, c!Burger duo, c!Revenge duo, or c!Crime bois, and I’m just sitting in the corner all like “you wanna hear about them in an AU of mine?”

[hiding-in-the-vault]

HIIIII ITS ME SPARROW. i would <3 to see either revivedbur + dream interacting or pogtopia dreambur ?? maybe in the explosive room or sharing a moment in pogtopia out of the rain ?? or honestly ANYTHING i just love them

Hello I’ve decided to feed you people in quality instead of quantity

Closeups >>

[sundewhasaudhd]

I was just rereading all my DSMP AU scripts I and I wanted to post this specific line form a c!MAD duo script WIP:

I hate c!Dream with my entire being, fuck him

[sioster]

Heiii my dear madduoers dreamburians starved people, what do you associate with them? The things that come to my mind are borsch and warm yet not fully safe darkness,,, yyyy what

Anyway, curious about what you'll say

[dreamsclock]

69 ooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

69. train station in the void, the c!wilbur + c!dream limbo moment

(warnings: blood, death, torture mentions, emotional distress)

"What was it like?" Tommy asks him quietly, voice hushed, almost reverent. They're on the outskirts of Las Nevadas, Quackity's horse being led between them, and Wilbur grunts irritably when it bumps into him as Tommy stops.

"Keep walking," he whispers, "what do you mean?"

"Limbo." Tommy's pace picks up again, and he doesn't turn to face him. His shoulders are stiff. "The- train station. When Dream revived you."

Without meaning to, Wilbur's lips tug themselves into a faint smile. "Oh. My revival."

"Don't say it like that," Tommy snaps, before quietening down again, "be fucking normal about it, Wil. I just- I wanna know. Was it like mine?"

He remembers Tommy's story of resurrection. Snatched away by a bruising, painfully thin pair of hands, ripped from blackness and tossed back into the sensory overload of the world. Where Wilbur had rejoiced, manic, in the overstimulation, Tommy had suffered. Then again, Tommy had woken in prison.

Wilbur had woken at the site of his destruction, the ending of his story.

He's grateful the TNT had destroyed that room.

"Nothing much to say." They've stepped from the border of Quackity's country into their own, and Wilbur's body eases of tension. "You know what happened. A train arrived for me. A train, the first train I'd seen pass through the station. And, when it opened..."

"Dream," Tommy says, "and Ghostbur."

Boner whinnies. Tommy pats its nose absently. Wilbur's little brother has always been an animal lover.

"Dream and Ghostbur," Wilbur confirms, "and... Ghostbur got out."

(The acrid stench of blood and smoke curling in his nonexistent nostrils. The ghost's pleading, grabbing onto Dream's arm, begging to be allowed to stay. Dream's noncommittal mask, beaten hands pushing Ghostbur onto the platform.)

"I climbed onboard the train."

("One way ticket for Wilbur Soot," Dream deadpans, and his voice is hoarse, ragged, "and a one time offer."

Wilbur's legs had almost given out in relief and sheer delight. "Well," he says, "I can't turn you down, my man. I never could.")

"...And before I knew it, the train was moving." Wilbur's smile is dreamy, fond. "And I woke in L'Manburg."

"L'Manhole," Tommy murmurs, but when he tosses a look back at his brother, it's troubled, "Did Dream say anything to you? Anything about his plans or shit?"

(Bloodied orange jumpsuit, blood caking the side of his head and his stomach. Face sticky with bruises behind the mask. Dream's smile had been just as twisted and paranoid as it had been in Pogtopia, and Wilbur had laughed, laughed at the world and at Dream and at himself, at their hopeless, beautiful, horrible situation as they'd exchanged a look.)

("I need you back alive," Dream tells him, "or, well- the server does."

Wilbur's grin is gleeful and too thin and wide on his face. "You need me back?" He teases. "Oh, there's a thought."

The look Dream gives him is two parts mangled and one part amused. "You owe me.")

You owe me.

"Nothing," Wilbur says now, and doesn't think of the heat of Dream's hand grasping at his arm or the thrum of his heart at the train rattling to salvation, "nothing at all."

send me a number between 1-100 and i'll give you a random c!dream minific!

[ladyddanger]

We can't all be butterflies

as promised a fic! based off that one time Q said Wilbur was Tommy’s attachment   

Summary: After a dangerous escape from prison Dream needs a quick way to get to Tommy. Luckily he finds a shortcut in Tommy's only attachment

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43398390

[supernovaa-remnant]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Ghostbur confronts Dream on Doomsday

Baptise Your Anger

Dream & Ghostbur | Gen | 1.4k words | Hurt No Comfort @sixteenth-day-event

Dream’s not sure how to feel about Ghostbur. Whenever he’s around the ghost, his thoughts are filled with the stench of cigarette smoke and the feeling of knuckles brushing against his own. For all that everyone insists Ghosbur is different from Wilbur—or Alivebur, as everyone’s taken to calling him—all Dream can see are the similarities. Sure, Ghosbur is more naive and trusting, but he’s still Wilbur. He still has the near-inhuman ability to spin simple words into poetic prose, and he still has the same smile and the same laugh and the same anxiety tells of biting lips and tugging on sleeves. He still has the same self loathing, too, and though Ghostbur tries desperately to push all of that onto the image of Alivebur in his mind, Dream can tell the ghost still harbors hate for himself as he is. 

That’s one difference between the two; Dream can read Ghostbur much easier than he could ever hope to be able to read Wilbur. 

But even with that, Ghostbur is far more similar to Wilbur than anyone cares to see. His fingers still feel the same when they curl around the edges of Dream’s mask, a silent question of May I? lingering in the air before Dream folds and nods his head. (Because Dream will always, inevitably, bend to the will of Wilbur Soot, regardless of which name the man uses to call himself). His lips feel the same, too, whenever they brush against the back of Dream’s hands or dust over the freckles on Dream’s cheeks. 

And yet, even with the similarities, it’s undeniable that there are differences. Ghostbur is like Wilbur in many ways, but only in the way an echoed phrase is like the original words spoken. So, Dream’s not sure how to feel about Ghostbur. 

He’s especially not sure how to feel, now, watching as the tears falling from desaturated eyes burn the ghost. 

He’s especially not sure how to feel about the look of utter betrayal that paints over the ghost’s face. 

“How could you?!” Ghostbur cries, his words accented by the sob that shuddered through his body afterwards. 

Dream sighs; he’d been hoping to avoid this confrontation. 

“I don’t know why you’re surprised, Ghostbur,” Dream says. “It’s not like I’ve hidden my dislike of L’manburg from you.” 

“But–” the ghost starts, pausing to try in vain to wipe his tears. Dream tries to suppress his wince as he watches the tears burn the ghost’s hands, but he still finds himself instinctively reaching out to his inventory to look for a healing potion. “But I liked L’manburg,” Ghostbur finishes quietly. 

Confusion washes over Dream. 

“Why would that affect my actions?” 

Ghostbur looks somehow more upset at his words. 

“Because I thought you cared about me,” he says, and Dream desperately tries to ignore the way his words make his heart squeeze. “It wasn’t about whether or not you liked L’manburg! I thought Phil cared enough about me to not destroy my home. I thought you cared enough not to.”

Dream grabs the healing potion. He gets closer to Ghostbur, internally sighing with relief when the ghost doesn’t back away, and offers the potion. Ghostbur takes it with mumbled words that might have been a thanks but also could have been an insult. Dream pays it no mind, though, instead focusing on softly wiping away the remaining tears whilst Ghostbur drinks the shimmering pink liquid. Dream places a hand on Ghostbur’s chest to keep him stable, uncaring of the vibrant blue that will no doubt stain his glove. Ghostbur doesn’t seem to mind the contact, wrapping a pale hand around Dream’s wrist whilst Dream tries to not think about the lack of a heartbeat under his palm. 

“Do you really think L’manburg was that good?”

“Of course I do!” 

“Even though Alivebur made it? Aren’t you always talking about how bad Alivebur was?” 

A troubled look passes over Ghostbur’s face for a moment, and Dream briefly wonders if this is when he’s going to forget this conversation.

“Bad people can make good things sometimes,” Ghostbur says. “And Tommy helped make it, too.” Dream stiffens at the mention of Tommy, but Ghostbur continues as if he doesn’t notice Dream’s reaction. “Besides, you cared about Alivebur. I don’t understand why you did, but you must have had a reason, so he couldn’t have been all bad.”

Dream inhales sharply. He tells himself that one of these days Ghostbur’s words will stop having such an effect on him, but he knows he’s just lying to himself. 

“Who said I cared about Alivebur?” He asks, trying to save face. He doesn’t know why he’s trying so hard, especially when Ghostbur is bound to forget this encounter anyway, but maybe he’s trying to convince himself more than he’s trying to convince the ghost. 

“Who said I cared about you?” He adds for good measure. 

“But you said–” 

“Does it matter what I said? Does any of this matter? You’re going to forget it all anyway like you always do,” Dream says, and he internally scolds himself for being unable to fully remove the accusatory tone. 

Ghostbur squeezes Dream’s wrist in what may be an attempt at a comforting gesture. 

“I’m sorry I’m so forgetful,” he says. “I really really am. And I know that I always forget the bad things so I might have a skewed perception of the world, but I remember the good things. And I remember that you care about me. And I remember that I love you.” 

Dream tries to pull back at the words, but Ghostbur tightens his grip. 

“And I don’t just remember Alivebur’s love for you, either, as twisted as it may have been,” Ghostbur continues, “I remember my love for you, because I’m not Alivebur. And this love is mine. Which is why I’m so hurt that you’d do such a thing to me. Because I can still remember the fondness in your eyes when you look at me—you never were good at hiding your expressions without your mask.” 

Dream hisses, frantically putting up walls in his mind because he has a plan to complete and a path to walk down as he’s guided by hands that smell of cigarette smoke. He’s going down hand in unlovable hand by the one who gave him this role, and attachments are a weakness he can’t afford.

“Why would I ever love you?” He asks, venom filling his tone. Ghostbur didn’t accuse you of love, a voice in the back of his mind says, you’re revealing your hand by claiming he did. But the voice doesn’t matter, now when all Dream can think about is a nest that may have one egg left after all, an egg that can’t be there if he’s to continue with the plan. “I don’t care about anything, Ghostbur! Least of all you!” 

Ghostbur pulls back with a whine. “You’re lying,” he says. “I know you are, but that doesn’t make it hurt less.”

“How would you know if I’m lying? All you have are fragments of memory from someone you could never hope to compare to! You could’ve died again when I was blowing up L’manburg, and I wouldn’t have cared! I wouldn’t have even noticed.” Dream can barely hear the words he’s saying, just letting them tumble out of his mouth in hopes something will cut whatever thread stretches between him and Ghostbur. 

“Stop lying!” Ghostbur’s turning intangible in his distress, tears burning him yet again, but this time Dream forcibly locks away any part of him that aches at the sight. “Why are you lying?!” 

“Don’t you get it, Ghostbur? I want you to forget this. I want to taint every happy memory you have of me so you can forget about every delusion of care between us.” 

A stricken look passes over Ghostbur’s face, but despite it all he manages to find more words to make Dream bleed. “It’s not the end of the world if someone cares about you, Dream. You don’t have to be what Alivebur made you.”

“Yes I do,” Dream says, and then he walks away, not stopping until the sobs behind him fully fade into the distance.

[sundewhasaudhd]

C!MADDUO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGSJSOQOWNSNSBDBSBSHSOSISHSHHSBSBSSH

Deal with the devil

Wanted to do something quick university kicking my ass

[zorishy]

I think he didn't do it, because, it wasn't his place to do it, and ctommy would have been more upset at him, if he killed his abuser and tried to play hero for it, which was not something ctommy wanted. If anything ctommy is the type to want others to face justice through time, or take them down but with his brother, in hand, rather than have cwil, do it alone.

I’ve never thought about it like that before. Though it’s a nice idea to think that Wilbur was thinking about what Tommy would prefer he do, I don’t think that’s the case.

If Wilbur really thought about what would be in Tommy’s interest as you said, he would have taken Tommy to the prison to let him get revenge on Dream himself. Instead, what he did was: take Tommy to the prison (despite him being uncomfortable with it), threaten to kill himself in front of Tommy, and make Tommy believe that his discs had been destroyed. All this did was take away Tommy’s agency and traumatize him further. Then, Wil had the nerve to say that he freed Tommy from Dream even though he clearly didn’t.

Discduo’s conflict was never really about the discs; it was about Dream controlling and abusing Tommy by any means necessary. Wilbur didn’t help Tommy. He did something shitty and manipulative to keep Tommy by his side until he left for Utah. I think, in Wilbur’s mind, that if Dream was no longer an issue for Tommy, he wouldn’t need to be protected anymore and would leave Wil behind.

Had Wilbur gone ahead and killed Dream, that would have been a selfless decision that would benefit Tommy at the risk of his own happiness. The fact that Wilbur thought about doing that does show that he has grown, but the choice to ultimately do something selfish prevents me from seeing that stream as Wilbur’s redemption.

Thank you for voicing your thoughts though. Even if I don’t agree, I appreciate the different perspective.

[cdreambur]

space au where professional pilot dream is hired for a transport flight across half the galaxy.

his employer even supplies the ship, a new model made by reputable manufacturer soot corp. and "one of only six released prototypes", as the guy proudly tells him.

dream's not complaining, considering the sleek design, strong motors, and impressive technology on the control panel.

with the first half of the pay deposited in his account and his cargo stored, dream boards, sinking into the surprisingly plush seat of the captain's chair.

flipping the switch to activate the controls, he startles when a sudden light flickers to life on his right, bathing the cockpit in a bright silver blue glow.

when dream turns to it, a face is staring back, and it's only now that he realizes that he's looking at a hologram.

"hi, i'm wil, your assistant navigator." the hologram says before smiling brightly at dream.

it takes the form of a young man, probably around dream's age, with wild brown curls, warm eyes, freckled cheeks, and a simple black sweater.

dream just blinks at it, righting himself in his chair as wil explains, "i've already received the coordinates to your destination. do you want me to tell you and let you figure out the route or should i guide you step by step?"

his head is spinning, surprised that the artificial intelligence already knows where to go when dream didn't get more than an "a small, relatively populous planet in the outer ring" from his employer. though this might explain why he didn't go into detail about it.

he clears his throat, finally smiling back at wil.

"i'd appreciate it if you tell me."

finally starting the motors, he listens as wil rattles off the coordinates, already mapping out the best way in his head. it isn't an area he's been in before, but he's visited planets close to it, and while it's a relatively long trip of around a week, it's also not a very complicated one.

when he voices the thought, wil agrees, right before rambling about all the reasons why the region is a lesser visited part of the galaxy and how that's good for them.

they're in hyperspace already when the talking eventually stops, wil blinking up at dream.

"wait. what the fuck is your name?"

the question is so blunt and out of the blue that dream can't stop himself from snorting, finally introducing himself. he tells wil a bit about his home planet, about his family, and how he came to be a pilot.

and it's nice.

the artificial intelligence is a surprisingly good listener, with a great sense of humor and a seemingly endless supply of little jokes and quips.

dream thinks he's going to enjoy the week of travel.

-

the days pass way too quickly. dream spends almost all of his time in the cockpit, talking to wil, who he's learned a lot about.

wil goes by he, and he likes to sing. he's sarcastic and enjoys telling stories. he knows a lot about the universe and loves nothing more than talking about it.

and dream's getting way too attached to an artificial intelligence bound to a ship that doesn't belong to him.

it doesn't get better when they reach the orbit of their destination.

because it definitely doesn't look like the planet dream's employer described to him.

sure, it's in the outer ring. but it's not small, and not populous either. in fact, it seems as if no one lives on the giant green planet.

"are you sure this is the right place?" he asks wil, doubtful as he looks down at the hilly surface.

"yes." wil answers softly, and there's something in his voice that dream can't quite place.

he pushes it to the back of his mind when the hologram starts directing him to the landing site.

it's... weird.

the place where they finally touch down is a flat area covered in green stems dream has never seen before, close to a majestic mansion that reminds dream of the strange, intricate glass structures you can find on diare.

something doesn't feel right, and dream voices as much to wil.

"i'm sorry." the hologram replies.

dream whips around to him, finding wil unable to meet his eyes and his expression hidden behind his disheveled curls.

"what do you mean?"

and when he doesn't get a response, "wil, what the fuck do you mean?"

wil swallows.

"if you want answers, go to room 16. and for the the small chance that someone asks why you're there, tell them you followed hullar's orders."

then, he flickers one last time before disappearing.

and dream is left staring at the console, torn between finding out what's going on and leaving to complete his job.

as always, his curiosity wins in the end.

he crosses the short distance between the ship and the house, surprised when he finds the door unlocked. no alarm bells start ringing when he steps into a grand foyer, and there aren't any people either. the whole building seems empty and unprotected, but there's a creepy air hanging over it that doesn't quite allow dream to relax.

two doors lead further into the mansion, and dream picks the left one at random, peeking inside to find a long corridor with numbered doors, all of them a strange off-white color.

the numbers start with two though, so he closes it again, walking over to the other door.

the hallway that lies behind it looks identical to the first one, but this time, the numbers start with zero and thus seem more promising to dream.

he closes the door behind him when he enters the deserted corridor, taking a slow, deep breath before he starts walking.

the even numbers are on the left side, and room number 16 is almost at the end of the hallway, looking just like the rest of it.

dream's hand shakes a little when he reaches for the handle, but he pushes it open without any hesitation.

on the other side stands wil.

he looks exactly like he did on the ship; messy curls, light brown eyes, smooth skin, a black sweater.

but this time, he's real. a person made of flesh and blood, just like dream.

dream doesn't know if he wants to punch or hug him.

"what the hell?" he chokes out as the door silently shuts behind him.

wil smiles sheepishly at him before ducking his head, curls falling into his face in the way dream has seen so often in the last week.

"hey dream." he whispers, and dream almost flinches at the sound of his voice, so similar and yet so different from the slightly distorted version of it he's heard over the last few days.

"what the hell." dream repeats, softer and a little more composed. he straightens his shoulders, letting out a deep sigh as he crosses his arms.

"care to explain?"

it comes out a bit more demanding than he wanted to, but in his defence, this is probably the strangest situation he's ever been in and he doesn't quite know how to handle it.

wil doesn't seem to take offense, although he does shrink a little bit further into himself.

"i'm really sorry." he apologizes again, tone the same as when he said it on the ship. but this time, he doesn't disappear after, instead continuing, "my name is wilbur, wilbur soot."

dream's arms fall to his side at that, the name registering immediately. however, he doesn't get the chance to think about it as wil goes on with his explanation.

"my father is the founder and chief engineer of soot corp., and as you may know, they're the leading company on the market when it comes to spaceships. with that comes a lot of envy and a bunch of very ambitious rivals."

wil finally looks up at him, a soft, sad smile curling the corners of his mouth.

"i'm my father's only child. and people know that hurting me would hurt him. so he keeps me here, keeps me safe. but i don't want to live in a golden cage anymore."

his expression shifts, something so sweet and hopeful in his eyes that dream has to hold himself back from pulling wil into his arms.

"i wanna see the universe. i wanna see the planets and the stars and the galaxies i've only ever read about. i wanna be free."

and dream knows how this is going to end, knows what he's going to ask before he actually does.

"can you take me with you?"

and how, how is dream supposed to say no to someone with so much wonder twinkling in their eyes, someone with so much passion and curiosity for what the universe has to offer.

he nods.

the smile that takes over wil's face is blinding and steals dream's breath for a moment. he basks in it, just for a small second, before he reciprocates it, gesturing towards the door.

wil nods, and together, they leave the room, and then the hallway, and then the house.

there are still no people, still no alarm bells, but the creepy atmosphere seems to disappear in wil's presence, leaving nothing but a content warmth in dream's chest.

it doesn't take them long to reach the ship, and dream sinks into the captain's chair with a satisfied sigh, something that makes wil giggle from where he's tucked himself into the co-pilot seat.

starting the controls, he expects hologram wil to come back to life, but the spot where he usually appeared stays empty.

"huh?" dream mutters to himself before turning to wil.

"where's the artificial intelligence? even if i found you, it should still be here."

wil's sheepish grin returns.

"you weren't talking to an artificial intelligence. you were talking to me. to get away, i had to find a way to contact someone, and since my father developed these prototypes here, i had the chance to secretly build in a video messenger."

dream blinks, stunned.

"so... everything hologram wil said and did was... you? it was real?"

wil nods, and something in dream settles at that confirmation.

because it's strange. theoretically, they only met twenty minutes ago. but dream already knows how wil sounds when he's tired and how much he loves constellations and what his favorite food is. and in turn, wil already knows who dream's best friends are and which planets he likes visiting the most and which ships he would love to fly.

wil is real, and he's here, and he's going to stay.

dream grins to himself when he starts the motors and lifts off, leaving the planet behind and entering space in no time.

stabilizing them somewhere where they're not going to be in the way of other ships, he turns to wil, planning to talk about their next moves.

he's stopped by the sight of wil curled up in the chair, knees pulled up to his chest as he looks out the window, sparkles in his eyes and the softest smile imaginable on his face as he watches the stars.

dream chuckles, quietly making a promise to himself.

he's going to show wil the universe.

[cringefailantagonist]

hello c!dreamburians i offer a thing