#can’t think too much about how phil almost died without spiraling

[blossoms-phan]

thinking about this photo

[mcyt-imagines]

hi! love your writing! could you possibly do dating headcannons for technoblade?! possibly including some kissing/cuddling :)

I’m so sorry this took so long!! I’m finally on break so I’ll be posting a little more frequently for now! Also I got very carried away with this one,,,, um,,, it’s almost 4,000 words long,,, can you tell Techno is my comfort streamer?? And gender-neutral pronouns as usual! (Edit: This is C!Techno btw, didn’t think I needed to point that out seeing as we all know the actual streamer is not a bloodthirsty half-piglin man but I just got an angry anon in my ask box, so I’m specifying.))

Dating C!Technoblade HCs

Techno being half piglin shares their obsession with gold, and in turn, likes to gift you gold as often as he can. Usually, in the form of jewellery that matches his own, he even gifts you a ‘friendship’ emerald, embedded in a choker you wear most days. And of course, if you ask for it, he makes sure to acquire a crown for you to match his own. As a man who forges his own weapons, he is aware of the process of smelting and sure, he could make the jewellery himself but he’s not very crafty with his hands. Dealing with the small potion vials he uses to brew is difficult enough for his large hands, let alone something as finicky and delicate as jewellery. But when he’d asked you to make your relationship ‘official’ per se, he did persevere and make a ring for you, he ended up making several and scrapping too many he didn’t think were good enough. This continued until Phil had to intervene telling him that if he wasn’t gonna hurry up and ask you he was gonna do it for him, mortified at the thought Techno buckled down and despite the ring’s faults, which were only obvious to him, he gave it to you. You adored it of course, and then he told you he had made it, and it only made you love it more. Techno had underestimated how he would feel when he finally saw you wearing it, he almost killed Phil. The two had been sparring outside in the snow when you had come riding up from the nearby forest, the ring on your finger glinting against the early morning sun and stunning him. Him blindly thrusting his sword forward, head completely turned to you as you approached. Only turning away when he noticed your horrified expression. Thankfully Phil was fine, but you were banned from flashing anything too shiny whenever you came to visit. Techno never heard the end of it from Phil and yourself, however, teasing him for it whenever you had the time.

Techno is a man of few words, for the most part. His love language leans closer to physical touch and acts of service. This man craves your touch, you can hold him so gently in your small hands and he can hardly describe the feeling that washes over him. He wonders if he feels contentment, or if he just feels whole for once. The latter terrifies him because he has no idea what he’s going to do if he ever loses you. That’s a lie. He knows what will happen. The voices will finally win, and it’ll be over. He’ll be lost in the consciousness of a mind that was never truly his own, to begin with. But when you hold him he forgets about all of it, his mind feels clear and quiet. Even if it's just for a few minutes he cherishes those moments, holding you tightly to his chest and simply letting himself breathe. You are his rock, undoubtedly. And now that he’s lived without you for so long, he never intends on letting you go.

Techno’s favourite way to cuddle with you is when you’re both lying on the couch, you draped over him, head on his chest. Sometimes he’ll read to you and sometimes you’ll lie with him for hours, begging him to take a break for once. Even Phil can’t pull him away from his work on his worst days, but you never fail to tempt him with warm cuddles by the fire. Another one of his favourites has to be when every blue moon you wake up before him, he’s quite a light sleeper so once you stir, he’ll wake too. But if you manage to remain undetected and get downstairs he will groggily trudge down the ladder, shirtless and hair an absolute tangled mess. Without a word he will simply wrap his arms around you, pulling your back tightly against his chest and nuzzle his face into your neck all whilst grumbling that you left him alone to wake up. You will always giggle and apologise with soft kisses and a steaming cup of coffee, of course, he begrudgingly forgives you. Those slow morning cuddles as you cook are some of his favourites. When you desperately try to scoot around the small kitchen to stop the eggs from burning and he merely holds you tighter, strength easily holding you back as you whine out complaints as he chuckles against your neck.

Techno is such a sucker for you whenever you kiss his scars. He has a few on his hands that you will always target if you ever feel if he is getting quiet or distant. Your lips on his skin always pull his spiralling thoughts back to the present, back to you. Whenever he starts to feel less than human you practically drag the man to your shared bedroom to remind him of how human he is. Sometimes Techno will tell you the tales behind the scars you pay particular attention to, others he won’t, you focus on those the most. Doing your best to lighten the dark clouds that plague him on his worst days.

Techno isn’t one for a lot of PDA, content to hold your hand and occasionally kiss your forehead. However, if he ever feels threatened by any of the other members of the SMP he is likely to hold you close and glare down anyone who dares look your way. But Techno isn’t intimidated by anyone at the moment, meaning he has no reason to act particularly possessive whilst you’re out. This man adores your hands, he loves watching how small they look in his own. He’ll kiss along your knuckles, especially if you’re wearing the ring he gave you, he’ll murmur a soft, ‘Looking gorgeous your majesty.’ Just to watch the way you smile brightly at him when he does, almost always leaning forward to meet his lips with your own.

Techno is plagued by the memories of his past, the voices a constant reminder of this. He can handle them during the day, but it’s at night when he’s most vulnerable to them. The first time Techno wakes from a night terror you are practically thrown out of the bed as he violently jerks around. Which instantly sets you on alert, Techno sleeps like a rock usually. It’s only when you manage to stand up that you can see him, his body is caked in sweat, strands of his long hair sticking to his skin, the sheets are even damp from it. ‘Techno.’ You try to wake him, knowing he’s a light sleeper. But that doesn’t work. Eventually, you cautiously climb back into bed, tenderly holding his face in your hands, noticing tears slipping down his cheeks as he practically trembles. ‘Techno.’ You call his name again, nothing. ‘Techno!’ He shoots up, sending you flying backwards again in case he threw a punch with him. His eyes are wide, pupils blown out. You’ve never seen him look so terrified before, he scans the room, eyes darting every which way until his eyes finally land on you. ‘A-Are you okay?’ You probe, the tears start again, but they are silent and run quick down his cheeks. His breathing is shallow and quick as his eyes seem to lose focus, looking straight through you. You move closer to him, ‘Hey, hey.’ You coo, unsure what the hell is going on because of course, Techno wasn’t going to tell you he has night terrors. You take his face in your hands again, wiping at the tears on his skin. ‘Techno you’re safe, you’re okay.’ You speak clearly before he pulls you closer, shoving his face into your chest, his arms tight around your middle. You wrap your arms around him as best you can, repeating comforting phrases until his grip loosens, and eventually, he pulls you back down to lie with him. You don’t ask him about it until he mentions it the next morning over breakfast. You hold him close as he talks, face emotionless and eyes blank, trying to distance himself from the events even as he retells them. You deserve to know the atrocious things he’s done. And yet you still choose to stay. Even after everything he tells you, you don’t budge from his side. That speaks louder to Techno than any confession of your undying love could.

Techno is a wanted individual and just by interacting with him, you’re put in danger. But being his partner doubles that danger by tenfold. His enemies will see you as his weakness and desire to use you against him. So, he takes it upon himself to train you, he knows the last thing you want to do is be the cause for his capture or untimely death. As much as Technoblade claims he never dies, if it were your life or his he would not hesitate to sacrifice himself for you. This terrifies you beyond belief of course, so you agree to let him train you. No matter if you already are somewhat skilled Techno’s paranoia surrounding your safety will always encourage him to push your skills further. Most early mornings the two of you spend together, sparring for hours until the sun is high in the sky or until you grow too exhausted to continue. Which in the early days, was often. But there comes a day when you finally best him. He doesn’t remember if he was going easy on you or was distracted by his surroundings, scanning the perimeter. He only remembers the moment you knocked him down onto his back, you look down at him panting with such a shocked expression. Techno looks up to you and holds out an arm, you take it ready to pull him back up only for him to pull you down with him. Techno holds you tight to his chest, the sun warm on both of your faces as it reflects upon the surrounding snow. Neither of you speak but you both understand what this means, you’re ready.

Techno isn’t one for grand gestures to prove his love to you. The man is dramatic, sure. But he finds himself yearning for simplicity, and you provide it. He doesn’t tell you he loves you very often, he is a man of few words, you’ve always known this so you never expected it. However, his actions scream it to you. Countless times you have mentioned small complaints about little things in your life and Techno takes them on as if the draft in your window had a personal vendetta against him. As if it had threatened your very life. You’d never seen a man fix a window frame so aggressively before. It was funnier to watch than you’d admit to him if given the chance. On one particular occasion, you mentioned his absence from the cabin, his explanation of the importance of the Syndicate and the new room Phil and himself had constructed. You understood and didn’t mention it again, not thinking anything of it but a necessary and temporary inconvenience. Only for Phil and Techno to be set up at the kitchen table when you came downstairs the next morning, the table covered in tattered books and coffee spill-stained scrolls. You were confused for a moment, spotting the Syndicate plans, codenames, etc sprawled out in Phil’s chicken scratch. Until it clicked. Hauling all of the stuff up from the Syndicate room had been a bit of a pain but the way your eyes lit up in realisation was more than enough for Techno to know it was the right choice.  

This man cannot keep a secret from you. Most may think he isn’t very talkative, but you can hardly get him to shut up sometimes. Not that you’d ever want him to, eager to listen to whatever he has to say. He will always come to you when he feels he needs advice, knowing you will offer a fresh perspective that may give him the breakthrough he needs to make an informed decision. You are his rock and he never wants you to forget that. He may be more talkative with you but that doesn’t stop him from being a fantastic listener. Sometimes he can get zoned out when the voices become too much. In the beginning, you found it difficult to tell when he wasn’t able to listen, but after being around him for so long you’ve got a better knack for it. And sometimes you can’t and you keep talking, he’ll just silently press a hand to whatever part of you is easiest to reach. And that usually gets the message across. Sometimes you can pull him out of his own head, and other times you can’t. So you just sit with him in comfortable silence, usually, you’ll place your smaller hand in his and lean into him. The two of you have fallen asleep countless times like that.

However, sometimes the fact he can’t keep a secret from you leads to some comical miscommunication neither of the two of you foresaw. Phil, Techno and Ranboo had left for around a week in search of a new woodland mansion to raid, following one of Ranboo’s countless maps. Upon their return, Techno seemed visibly, off. He wasn’t being distant or getting lost in his own head, it was more as if he were actively avoiding you. Which was something very un-Techno. What made your worry increase tenfold was when you asked Phil if he had noticed any kind of difference the blonde merely shook his head. “He seems normal to me, mate.” Because there’s no way Phil didn’t notice Techno’s change in behaviour, which means they’re both hiding something from you. Knowing the two men quite well, you knew they wouldn’t break. But Ranboo would. So with your head held high, you sought out to find the boy, only to find out he was staying in Snowchester for the time being but would be returning in the morning. That night thoughts of self-doubt plagued you, wondering if it was something you had said or done that made Techno act strangely. But just as the moon was reaching its zenith, Techno came into your shared bedroom. He beckoned for you to follow him, after putting on some snow appropriate outerwear the two of you were on the back of Carl headed towards the forest’s tree line that faced the cabin. You asked Techno where you were going his only response, “It’s a surprise.” And to say your heart soared would be a slight understatement when the two of you finally reached the forest clearing. A small candlelit dinner for two inside of a dark oak gazebo. One that looked as if it had only been finished recently, the veneer on the wood still in impeccable condition as Techno led you over to it. You were truly floored by this display, stars illuminated in your bright eyes. “Phil and Ranboo helped. We brainstormed on our way back from the woodland mansion. And I, I knew I’d spill the secret the moment you asked. Sorry.” His apology and explanation are curt, much like the man himself.  You hold him tight then, arms wrapped around him for as long as he’ll let you. He chuckles after a while, “C’mon, the food’s getting cold.” He pulls away after pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling your chair out for you because Phil told him to. The blush you provide lets him know he should do it more often. As the two of you begin to finish your food you hear the soft strumming of a guitar and an equally soft voice to match. Floating atop one of the branches in a nearby tree, as if he were trying to sit on it, is Ghostbur. He sends a small and quick wave when you spot him before his hand drops back down to his guitar. “Wow, you really pulled out all the stops for this, huh?” You look back to Techno to find him now stood up, offering his hand to you. “For you. Anything.” You take his hand and he leads you into the middle of the gazebo with a grace you always knew he had. Ghostbur continues to serenade, the two of you dancing in your own private world until the moon was low on the horizon once again.

Whenever Techno leaves to go and fight he knows you worry about him. You do not doubt his skills but his luck is bound to run out eventually. Skill and resources only account for so much of the outcome, luck and fate determine the rest. Techno worries when he leaves to fight as well. He worries about what will happen if he ever loses. When his enemies will come for you, his past now liable to catch up with you as well as himself. He can’t have that happen. That’s why he keeps fighting, he won’t stop until he knows that if he ever falls in battle you will be safe from his enemies past or present. When Techno eventually does get back from the battle, without fail you will swear up and down that he cannot keep doing this and that next time you’re going to leave him to bleed out in the snow on the porch. You never do. But some days Techno thinks you’d be better off if you did. But those are the kind of thoughts you happily kiss away with a soft smile and a few gently spoken words. You are always the one to patch him up when he’s injured, which isn’t often but you remain swift with sutures and bandages despite that. No matter how badly he’s been injured you will always hold him so reverently, with such a gentle expression that it never fails to floor him. Most sessions in which you patch him up devolve into soft gasps and warm hands on your body to repay you for your ‘services’.  

Techno knew you were different from the moment he met you. He acknowledges how stupidly cliché that is, but it’s true. The constant chatter of the voices in his head drowned out the first time he saw you, even if it was just for a moment. They stuttered and stammered, just as he did. You floored them as much as you floored him. When you were with him, they would quieten. As if they wanted to concentrate on what you were saying as much as he did. Not even Phil made the voices act in such a way. Only you. Nowadays they only bother him on certain bad days that grow more and more infrequent the longer you are in his life. You drown them out in a way nothing else in his life ever has. He doesn’t know how he can ever repay you for that but vowing to be by your side for the rest of his life seems to be a good enough start for the two of you.

The first time Techno tells you he loves you is when you’re in battle together. Techno, Phil and yourself had decided to raid a woodland mansion, something all three of you had done before with no trouble. But upon arriving, everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong. This led to the three of you becoming separated within the confines of the thick wooden walls. You were managing to keep a level head but fear was growing in the pit of your stomach. With every vindicator you took down another only seemed to replace it, leaving you tired and heaving for air. You were in good shape all things considered but you were getting tired and soon you would get careless, you needed to find Techno and Phil and get the hell out of here before things got worse. Your totem of undying tied tightly to your waist glints against the setting sun pouring through the large floor to ceiling windows as you charge past, enemies remain at your back as you plough forward heading for the set of stairs you know are here somewhere. As you spot the sacred stairs you hear a shout of pain followed by a deep snarl. You look over the stairs balcony to see Techno swarmed by a group of stubborn Vex. He looks exhausted. Bloodstains him, you’re unsure whether it’s his, the enemies, or a combination of the two. Techno fails to notice the Ravager charging towards him from behind, the axe raised high above its head. The half-piglin far too distracted by the Vex and the aiming of his crossbow at their stupid little bodies. It takes only a moment for you to vault over the second-floor railing and plummet towards the Ravager. You land on its shoulders and it stumbles, your hand shoots out to restrain its axe-wielding arm. The other hand desperately clawing at you as it grumbles and groans grow high pitched and panicked. Your legs wrap tightly around its throat until you hear a sickening pop and you fall to the ground along with the now very dead Ravager. You don’t manage to catch yourself, despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You let out a soft groan as a hand comes into view, Techno following it. You take his hand and he hauls you back up and onto your feet. Now that you’re closer to him you can tell that some of the blood staining his clothing is his, but you’re sure you mirror his look. He doesn’t let go of your hand now that you’re stood up and neither do you. You look up from your entwined hands to his face, he’s staring at you with an expression you can’t quite determine. “Tech-“ His lips plant firmly onto your own, swallowing your words instantly. He grips the small of your back, trying to pull you closer into him as if the two of you could fuse into one single being. When he finally pulls away to let you breathe your lungs are burning, soft gasps heaving in air. “I love you-” He mumbles the phrase repeatedly against your lips like a prayer, a mantra, only to capture your lips again before you can even respond to his confession in kind. Eventually, the two of you break apart long enough for you to be able to tell him you love him as well. You knew he loved you before that moment, but in reality, he finally realised how much he loved you. And for the first time, it didn’t scare him.

~Requests are still open! But it’s a little full so please be patient!~

[justalads]

c!niki and c!wilbur enjoyers. pspspspspspsps

alright guys so last night i rewatched pretty much all of the pogtopia arc. and this isn’t meant to be a big, important analysis post (it’s kind of incomprehensible), because my brain is fried from, you know. rewatching pretty much all of pogtopia. but i do have some stuff i’d like to say.

(this also just became a niki meta sorry i love her. i really just got emo about her during the second half of this and it got long. i have a lot of feelings about her and wilbur’s friendship.)

it’s a pretty general conclusion that wilbur’s real “downfall” began on october 8th, during the stream “who are you go away”. of course, his spiral and the process of him losing faith had begun much earlier, more around the end of the first war or during the election. but the big switch, so to say, was definitely here, when as wilbur walks back from schlatt’s announcement, he asks tommy if they’re the bad guys.

this entire scene was so interesting to me. wilbur here is a man who has lost hope, someone who is backed into a corner morally and has nothing left. he points out that they can never really reclaim l’manburg without forever tainting it, and that schlatt knows this. the entire half an hour or so before, schlatt has been taunting wilbur about losing that power. the emphasis of the festival on “democracy” is so clearly a barb thrown at wilbur, and it works.

wilbur’s “nothing left to lose” in this vod is a mirror to niki’s “you know what they say about a woman who has nothing left to lose”. this will not be the first time they mirror each other.

basically, wilbur’s angry. when schlatt announced the festival, wilbur realized that maybe it wasn’t a terrible thing. so once he worked around into the mindset of “we’re the bad guys”, he was able to justify saying he was going to blow up the nation with no remorse. he wants chaos! he wants no survivors!

does he do it? god no.

during the streams leading up to november 16th, wilbur is consistently scared. he goes back and forth on it, and makes multiple “conditions” that determine whether he’s going to do it or not, almost begging someone to stop him. he whispers to himself that he’s scared, that his hands are shaking, that he’s not sure if it’s the right thing to do. because despite what he says about “not caring about any of them”, the instant niki is threatened after tubbo’s death, wilbur walks up to schlatt and tells him that if he’s going to kill anyone it should be him. later, when quackity and tommy talk him down from pressing the button, he can’t press it because they’re there and he can’t bring himself to kill them as well.

but he has no problems with putting his own life at risk. he refuses to wear armor half the time, and actively places himself in harm’s way to save others. he still cares about everyone else, as much as he says he doesn’t. even when he does cause harm to others, during november 16th, he immediately begs phil to kill him. “look, they all want you to.” he can’t live with what he’s done, and how he’s hurt people, but he couldn’t allow manburg to continue.

the man is terrified and angry and he can’t win. and even as he tries to stuff himself into the mind of someone who doesn’t care, he cannot. when he finally does, he cannot live with being that person.

but the reason i rewatched this arc was to see niki’s point of view, especially after her statements during her last stream. i genuinely think that wilbur’s only betrayal of her was pressing the button, because he betrayed everyone. they might have known he was going to do it, but they had faith he wouldn’t.

wilbur cared a lot about niki. her life under schlatt was awful, wilbur hated that she was suffering, and the scene where wilbur plants himself directly in the center of the festival and tells schlatt to kill him instead hits pretty hard. he has the argument with schlatt, and then turns to niki and tells her to run. he then hits people and sprints away, trying to give her time to escape.

this is also when he asks her to join pogtopia, because now that schlatt has said he’d kill her, it’s a safer place for her.

so the man did care about her. niki is angry at the memory of him that she has. it’s been twisted by time and her own grief and paranoia.

in rewatching pogtopia, i realized that a lot of people hate the memory of wilbur. not him, and what he did. they think he didn’t care. and to quote hamilton (apologies):

“history obliteratesit paints me in all my mistakes”

does niki have a right to be mad at him? absolutely. he caused direct harm to her by blowing up l’manburg, once it was reclaimed. but she’s wrong that he never cared.

(an interesting note: wilbur only blows it up after techno starts fighting people outside. he hears it, and says “look, they’re fighting”. he didn’t re-initiate the conflict of the country. the fact that even after peace was won people were fighting just gave evidence to his belief that the entire country was corrupted.)

niki has been hurt a lot, and wilbur has things to answer for. but we as the audience know that her statements are just her perception. she is a character who acts on perceptions. the entire stream was in black and white. during doomsday, upon seeing wilbur log on (as ghostbur), niki has a panic attack and destroys her bakery, trying to rid herself of the pain of the memories. her lines during this stream are chilling, whispered repetitions that are a mirror of wilbur’s end.

(paraphrased, it was long and confusing but there are a few bits and this was the essence of it)

“wilbur is gone. this isn’t happening. he is dead. l’manburg is gone.”“it is real, i am real, he is real and he is dead.”“l’manburg is gone, i am real, i am l’manburg”.

(god. dude i could spend Months analyzing this one stream alone. there’s so much here.)

doesn’t that sound a bit like “my unfinished symphony”? wilbur and niki both attach their own self to the nation they fought for, and can see it as an extension of themself. they both destroy parts of it in acts of fear, attempting to save everyone else from what they’ve made.

what i pulled away from niki’s stream is that she’s not healing. i remember the chamber she locks herself in at night. i remember her refusal to eat. i remember how she was so angry at tommy, and she later realized that anger was misguided. niki genuinely believes that wilbur did not care about her, and that’s not surprising: when he died, she denied the fact that he was gone. she represses the things that she can’t handle, same as lots of other people. it is easier for her to pin her hurt on wilbur, because she needs somewhere to pin it. people feel more in control if they’re angry, not sad.

the song cc!niki said was for her character really emphasizes this. it’s a coping mechanism.

but even condemning wilbur won’t help, because she will still never get closure. niki cares about what others think of her, and so she can’t move on from someone hurting her. she can’t move on because she thinks he hated her. she is angry that he is back, but it is an opportunity for her to heal. she couldn’t heal when he was gone. she’s not the only one with a negative perception of wilbur, after all. he has one too. the two of them really need to talk.

i want niki to be healthy and safe. i want to see her heal so badly, and i do think it will happen. after wilbur died, his betrayal of her stayed with her, and it eventually became her memory of the betrayal that she hated, not the thing itself. it’s been months since it happened. niki wants to find an outlet for her hurt, because she wants to feel better. there’s a pattern i noticed: she only gets mad at people once she hasn’t seen the person themself for a while. and once she sees them and talks to them, and realizes that they care about her and don’t want to hurt her, she stops blaming them for it. she only hates her perception of them. example one? tommy.

man was in exile for a long time, and when he came back he “brought” fighting. that’s how niki saw it. but the fact that after she spent time with tommy (trying to kill him but. details, details) she forgave him because she saw it wasn’t his fault is a really good sign.

i genuinely think that speaking to wilbur will help niki, and it will also help wilbur. after all, they both hate wilbur. the entire perception of wilbur as some heartless, crazy manipulator needs to be shattered for both of their sakes. they both buy into it.

i want niki to know that others care about her, and that she has places she can feel safe. she hates that wilbur is invading the syndicate, because she’s scared of his memory hurting her. i don’t think wilbur will hurt her on purpose, because even though he sees himself as awful, he doesn’t hate her. he never did. usually, with people who have hurt someone else, i want them as far away from the person they hurt as possible. if wilbur does hurt niki i’ll probably cry. but again, it’s not him that hated her, or really him that hurt her in the way she thinks he did. when wilbur was dead, niki didn’t get any better. her memory of him festered and made her feel worse. that’s also why niki killing wilbur or hurting him somehow wouldn’t help her heal. i want wilbur to explain that he didn’t hate her. is wilbur even close to self aware enough to help niki? nah. this is going to take a Long time, and it’s going to hurt.

last thing i swear lol

during niki’s stream, she says that wilbur manipulated her. again, i watched pogtopia last night, and i’ve watched the rest of season one recently as well. i genuinely don’t see it. but i do think i know why she said it.

during season one, wilbur doesn’t manipulate niki. he doesn’t have a chance to later, he’s dead. so then, what is she talking about? of course it’s a perception, same as a lot of her other claims. i think she’s talking about how she cared for l’manburg.

niki joined the server as wilbur’s friend, to join his nation. she grew to care for l’manburg. she devoted herself to it, same as he did. but doomsday showed us that she hates that. in niki’s eyes, l’manburg only brought pain for people, and because she ties herself to it, she hates that she ever cared about it. she can’t allow herself to care for it, because it was used to hurt. so how does she cope with knowing that she once did? she pretends she didn’t.

if she can convince herself that it was wilbur who convinced her to care about l’manburg, she can avoid blaming herself for her own pain. and yeah, she shouldn’t blame herself for it. it’s not her fault. the entire situation is tragic and a little hopeless and once again really makes me hope that she recovers. l’manburg was ruined for her by others. schlatt, techno, dream, wilbur. again another place where she and wilbur are similar: they convince themselves they never cared about l’manburg because of the hurt it caused.

to summarize: wilbur’s going to get a shock soon. don’t know when, but probably the prison visit. something is going to shake his perception, the story is hurtling towards that. once he is able to take responsibility for what he did, and feel safe (because a lot of what he does now is out of fear of being alone or useless), then he and niki need to talk. niki needs something to get her out of her own head. she’s spiraling too. they are essential to each other’s recovery because of how much they meant (and mean) to each other.

anyways i miss early season one niki i liked it when she was happy :(

~ Lad 2

[sokayisaidiot]

Dream SMP Assumption #7

Today’s topic: Everybody is suffering and you know it.

Please DO NOT read if you’re uncomfortable with the themes of death, depression and suicide. It’s a very complicated theme. I did NOT study it and do NOT know some aspects of it. I just go off the things I saw in the smp and made my own theories about it. If you’re even slightly triggered by this, please stop and do NOT try to read it. Please do NOT put yourself in some kind of uncomfortable zone.

Please do not. Thank you

(This is all assumptioning from the fictional world of dream smp)

(Heavy spoilers on the resent events)

(Also just assumptions, when you know something, you can always drop it :))

(Mainly around the lmanburg way, sadly need to learn more about badlands ): )

(This Series is created by another person, that’s just too fuckin lazy to move her butt)

Trigger warning today:

Suicide thoughts

(PTSD)

Depression

War

Child Neglect

Betrayal and Trust Issues

Death

Lets get this straight, no one is pure evil just because. Everybody has something happening and BOOM, finished chaos and sadness and strange behavior and aggressiveness and- You get me? Good. I will take on EVERYBODY who says that a person in the story didn't suffer. I aint a Apologist either. I just want to make some things clear who suffered how. Understand? Good.

Stop saying “[Character] didn't suffer!” Hell yes somehow everybody, close in the lore, fuckin did.

LET’S GET STARTED

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Tommyinnit

Lets start with one, who should be pretty obvious. Tommy. In my second Assumption, I explained symptoms of PTSD and Depression. 

He was never really trusted by any point

Was just as used as Techno, because who had Tommy controlled was pretty powerful

He was exiled by a country, he HELPED saving MULTIPLE times

He saw his brother get killed by his father

He experienced so many deaths (Tubbo’s, in the final control room, Schlatts, 

He lost his pets 

He lost his belongings

Has to be on edge constantly

Gets accused by someone and then MOSTLY EVERYBODY believes, it was him

He isn’t really taken seriously

He gets seen as power-hungry person

People literally having him on the Hitlist

He nearly saw his best friend dying, on a mission, that was started by him

His older Brother, who he has an confused relationship with, doesn't even want to be revived.

Lost his brother to insanity and had to sit in the FRONT ROW of this spiral

PTSD

Depression

Suicidal thoughts

Betrayal

next to no one on his actual side

got left by almost everyone

was stuck on a island with an amnesiac ghost, who is a shell of his older brother

gets told his comfort items he had before everything else didn't matter

constantly has to live on the edge because he runs around with one just fuckin heart

Tubbo

Next to Tommy, he also suffers from PTSD, Depression and Suicidal tendencies. And that doesn't mean you kill yourself. It means you are too careless to give a fuck. And that can happen. TUbbo was way too easy to give up his OWN LIVE for something his best friend has passion in it.

He got publicly executed in a place HE DECORATED by someone he considered his Allie

Had the burden of Presidency on his YOUNG shoulders

The People who had to teach him about it, were also there for the tyranny

Got constantly considered a pawn, a throwable item

The adults use him as a figure head and proceed then to use him

He HAD to exile his best friend, or Tommy would have died sooner than ever

PTSD

Suicidal in a way of being okay for dying

Depression

Betrayal

Never gets taken seriously

Gets over-spoken a LOT

GETS COMPARED TO FUCKIN MANIACS OFTEN

Didn’t get nice words after his manipulator told him down, just SILENCE

He nearly died

He heard 

Got left by everyone, when they didn't see anything in this place anymore

got told by his best friend, that the discs were more worth than him

As Tommy, he is always on the edge of death

Technoblade

Techno is one of the most powerful people here on the server. No doubt about it. However, if someone, even a God, tries to refuse they have feelings, it’s impossible. And those feelings, when they get something terrible done to them, get hurt.

BETRAYAL

Loneliness

A bloodlust he sometimes seriously can't control, no matter how much he tries

His best friend (Wilbur), died before his eyes

He thought he could trust his (little brother figure) friend

Gets used often for material

betrayal

Has a hard time understanding his feelings

Gets talked over

Is socially avoiding talking

Gets seen as a bad guy many times

Trust issues, yay!

Also BETRAYAL

has at least some people who want to kill him

Wilbur Soot

Our favorite maniac! Yay! We can all see how he fell from a proud Leader of a family to an lost in himself man, with nothing left to loose

Had to countdown his brothers death

Was killed by his father

His OWN SON disowned him

He wasn't able to get help, especially not from his younger brother

His Allies were not really trust worthy

He got betrayed by a close comerade

His dear Brother was sometimes really chaotic

He had to lead an army to war, not one, but two times

He lost the election

He had to run away from a country he helped create

Had a hard time with this father (with how it’s shown, that he maybe was neglected and had to raise Tommy)

Ranboo

Our favorite Memory-Minutes-Boi! I think EVERYBODY in this community will protect him

His first days on the server were pure Chaos

Had to see a person, he considers a friend, being rotten away and not being able to do anything about it

A sister figure who just went angry

He isn’t trusted by anyone really

He knows things others don’t

ALSO LOSING YOUR MEMORY AND HAVING CONSTANT MEMORY LOSS FUCKIN SUCKS, TRUST ME

Has serious issues

GETS TALKED OVER

Is often forced to take a side, even if he's against it

Phil

He has a hard time. Especially with the death, failed resurrection, disowning one of his son, he didn't got even close to. Being 

Also on the edge of death every day

Was in the end peer pressured into killing his own son

Suffering from the loss of his son

Couldn't help his youngest son in exile, because he thought Tommy hated him

Wasn’t there for L’Manburg glory days

was ridiculed in his house arrest

Dream

Of course, we all know how mad he is now and shit, but you gotta think, he has some points here, that are infecting his behavior LARGELY

His friends left him, without considering helping him

He had lost his dear pet before

He actually wanted peace, but fell into the fun of destruction and chaos without someone knowing or helping him

He is homeless

Probably, he is a old being, that already suffered for millions of years

Sapnap

He’s actually one of my favorite Characters and I think we know he has a place in here.

Third wheels a  l o t

Constantly being referred as the THIRD person, who isn't important

Fought his friend, who took the side of a child

Said friend had one of his beloved fishes by his side the hole time

Said Fish got thought as dead

Fundy

Some of you guys forgot how sad actually Fundy’s character is. He IS one of the most hurt characters. And he gave up hope

constantly being talked over

disowned by his hole family

GREW UP IN OLD L’MANBURG, WHICH WAS AT WAR

doesn’t think he is a part of a group

had to disown his father, to help fight a tyrannt

Got babied his whole life

His dead father is still running away from their problems

Doesn’t know where his mum is

Lost his home so often

Nihachu

Actually the person I watched for the first long time as in the SMP

Again, being talked over

Doesn’t get taken seriously

Lost her Best friend (Wilbur)

Got betrayed by her friend, Karl, by him selling their Land to L’Manburg

Gets used as a hostage or Maid in Distress, even when she isn’t

Got her pets killed

Then constantly being used for her niceness

Jack Manifold

He has a pretty big Role now, and he's very VERY angry. And you might ask why

Got left behind by his country

doesn’t get taken seriously

Got his most powerful items removed in one thing

His land somehow is near a crater

got told he didn't suffer somehow

Went to mf hell

Quackity

Quackity, despite his funny demeanor, he's one of the hurt character

with him staying with Schlatt, he had a uncomfortable relationship a long time

got killed by the festival

somehow helped organize the death of a child

Said kid helped a revolution against him

he helped a tyrant come to power and will probably never get it live down

fought for a country so often, but, two times, it got exploded in front of his face

had to face war, also in a young age

Eret

Our favorite King is here too! Yes, he may have started the distrust spiral of Eret, but somehow, someone would still have led them to the FINAL CONTROL ROOM. Somehow History will always be happening.

Had one of the hardest time, getting forgiven

Was never really given a chance

got accused of something

gets used as a pawn

He has shown often regret

got left alone

I think we all can say they are just having MULTIPLE communicate, trust and self worth issues. Like goddamn, Puffy, please help them, you’re one of the only sane people in the lore-

[like-that-one-weird-dog-thing]

And I’ll Shut Your Dirty Mouth

[1] . . . [2] . . . [3] . . . [4] . . . [5] . . . 

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Ngl, I’m reeling by how many notes my other post got. And it’s only been like, a day. That’s insane. I don’t get those kinda notes. I expected there to more notes then my other posts since Dream SMP is a more popular/active fandom right now but I wasn’t expecting this. ty to all y’all, if any of you ever want to discuss it more with me, you can @ me in a post, you can dm me, or you can send me an ask

This one will be more focused on the siblings as a whole, since I realized when I woke up that Tommy wasn’t just ‘basically Wilbur’s brother’ he was Willbur’s brother and that just. Has so many things attached to it. Also a post about how canonical deaths work was brought to my attention(here) by @insert-chaotic-enby-name so hell yeah to them, ty my dude

Hopefully this will be less of a disjointed mess the other one was, but I personally don’t have that much confidence in that. It’ll probably just fall into the same almost-fanfiction type formatting

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So, three siblings. Wilbur, Techno, Tommy. Two traitors and one left to rebuild in the other’s footsteps of carnage. I don’t know how I forgot about it being canon last night, but now my thoughts are in full swing.

[“I wonder, did Tommy ever see Techno and think of Willbur?

Did Willbur ever see Techno and think of Tommy?

Two siblings, seeing something that could have been(Tommy, lets be the bad guys) and something that will never be(Willbur, do you hear yourself?)“]

Do they ever see each other in their third sibling? It makes sense, now, why Techno’s betrayal would be painful for Tommy, why it would hurt him so goddamn much.

Techno’s his older brother. He’s meant to protect him, to keep him safe. He was meant to fall into Willbur’s place when Willbur abandoned Tommy. 

He didn’t, though. Instead he chooses Willbur, chooses destruction over rebirth- the death of a nation instead of the revival.

(Tommy, if you want to be a hero...

Then die like one)

I wonder, has Techno always been like this? He seems to like history(Theseus slays the minotaur, he saves his land, he’s cast out), does he relate to it? He seems so inhuman, have others always shied away from him? Did he only have his family? He hates government so damn much, does he have experience with watching it fall, outside of Schlatt’s administration? 

Was he ever cast out himself? Exiled from a land he may have called home?

Is his story of Theseus not only told to illustrate to Tommy why heroes never get happy endings, but also to remind Tommy of something else?

I wonder, was Tommy so in denial about Techno’s inevitable betrayal because of hope, or because he’s never truly seen what Techno’s like? I wonder, in the past did they part ways, Willbur with Tommy and Techno alone, only to reunite, Tommy unaware of how unstable Techno can be?

He’s so focused on Willbur, after all. Willbur’s been with him since the start, he’s been there with him through everything. Was he so blinded by Willbur’s spreading madness that he was unable to see the festering madness Techno also held?

Willbur and Techno sparred as children. Did Tommy? Or was he the sheltered youngest, only allowed to see slivers of the real world when they deemed him ready?

But in the pit, he sees his defeat at Techno’s hands as inevitable but he still goes through with it. He isn’t surprised when he’s defeated, but he’s still angry at Techno- angry enough to fight him. Has he watched Willbur and Techno spar as children? Did he spar with Techno himself? Did he just not care(he killed Tubbo, he can’t let that go, he killed Tubbo), because he couldn’t let Techno’s crimes at the festival stand?

Was that his first taste of Techno’s cruelty, his crumbling sanity?

Was he reeling when Techno did it, did he view Techno as the one who get out of every situation(Your Technoblade! You could’ve fought your way out!), was he so angry not because Techno had just killed Tubbo, but because he’d killed one of their own(we found Tubbo on the side of the road), was he angry because if Techno could kill Tubbo, couldn’t he also kill him?

And he does, later on. Stands before Tommy and snarls and snaps at him and kills him.

Three deaths, you get three deaths before your gone. Tommy has lost two, one at the hands of Dream and one at the hands of Techno- at the hands of his brother.

One at the hands of enemy. One at the hands of blood.

I wonder, was he relieved when he discovered Willbur to be dead? Relieved, because then Willbur couldn’t kill him, too. Relieved because if Techno could kill Tubbo, could kill him, then couldn’t Willbur do the same?

(you sure want to risk it? That’s an awful lot of tnt potentially attached to that button)

I wonder, did Tommy ever think that the blast would kill him, if Willbur ever hit that damned button?

Did he ever think he was about to die again, when the lands underneath him went up in flames?

I wonder, did Tommy ever think it would be his brothers that would be the end of him? Or did the thought never even cross his mind, something unthinkable- because, after all, they’re his family. His brothers.

Unthinkable, even as Willbur spiraled further and further. Did Tommy ever truly give up hope for him? Did he still have Hope that Willbur would join them, till the very end?

Hope that this dream of theirs wouldn’t have to end, that the great symphony that was L’manburg would continue on, Willbur and Tommy at the head.

L’manburg was Tommy’s safe space, it was where his friends and family was, it was where they belonged. Willbur may have created the idea of L’manburg, but Tommy was the one to secure it’s freedom and was the one to begin to breathe life into it.

Tommy saw L’manburg as something that would keep them all together, something they needed. 

But L’manburg was what started all the hurt- it was the cause of Tommy’s first death and it was the cause of the loss of two of his most prized possessions. It was the cause of a war and it was the cause of everyone turning against them.

Willbur saw L’manburg as something that lead to pain(so many injuries, we’ve lost so much), something that would continue to hurt unless it was gone.

And L’manburg also shouldn’t exist. It couldn’t exist, not without violence. It was built on the blood of those dying and hurting for it and it was built on the blood of those trying to stop them from creating it. The foundation of L’manburg is one of bones, and that is unavoidable.

Techno saw L’manburg as something that would rule, that would be built on top of tyranny and continue with that tyranny(you just got L’manburg back with a hostile take over! Your just replacing one tyrant with another!), something that couldn’t exist for there to be true peace.

So, when it’s the end, when Schlatt is dead, when Techno sits and watches, when Tommy stands behind Tubbo to support his presidency, and Willbur is at the button?

It’s three siblings, and the eldest two have seen too much, done too much. Their ideals line up and Willbur slams his fist to the button. His father stands before him. Techno kills Tommy, kills others, then die a hero.

Techno wasn’t the traitor, not really. He’s a wildcard that was thrown in with the hopes that his ideals align with one side or the other. Instead, while Willbur may be the traitor, he’s also led to believe he’s not. (there was no traitor, Tommy. I lied) So, when he hears the sound of Techno killing everyone, the all too familiar sounds of fireworks being launched, hitting their target?

Maybe he feels relieved in a way. He’s not the traitor, it’s Technoblade. His brother is on his side. Someone agrees with him.

He’s not alone.

His father stands before him, afraid(he doesn’t trust him either, does he?), and his brother stands at his side.

He might not have Tommy or Phil, no, but he has Techno.

And so, Tommy is betrayed twofold.

The tnt blows. (There’s screams and cries of those caught up in the blast and Willbur laughs)

Phil kills his son. (with the sounds of his eldest son’s weapons firing above, with Willbur’s vicious whispers echoing in the air, I wonder. Did he imagine he would have to kill another of his sons that day?)

Techno unleashes his whithers. (he watches them go towards Tommy, making no move to intercept. Tommy, already injured by the blast, by Techno’s onslaught, tricked into wearing bad armor, dies immediately)

And I wonder, here. Phil said it himself in his most recent Dream SMP stream- he appeared to be the traitor.

As the world blew up beneath their feet, Phil kills Willbur and walks away.

(your my son! Even if you’ve- if you’ve...

Kill me, Phil)

Did Tommy ever think everyone had betrayed him?

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You know what I can’t stop thinking about? How Willbur only really remembers the happy times, and Phil is included in that. Phil killing him is included.He truly sees his own father killing him as a good thing.

He might not remember it, but that smile after he’d gotten Phil to stab him? That satisfaction? I wonder, does he remember it? Did he think I am a bad person and this is the best ending, for everyone. Because he blew up L’manburg, he did it, and so he’s done, finally. He’s allowed to forget the bad, only remembering the good. He remembers raising Fundy, remembers the taste of bread, he remembers sparring with Techno as a kid.

All happy memories(Philza killing me).

An attempt to continue the list(-I don’t remember), is watching all the others reference things he doesn’t remember make him want to get his memories back? Does it hurt for him to only remember so little? (Bullying Tommy(he’s a child)) does he even remember that Tommy is his brother? Is he left wondering, constantly, why everyone hates Techno so much, his brother? If he does remember that Tommy is his brother, is he left confused as to his fury when it comes to their eldest sibling? Does he want to find out what Techno did, or leave it forgotten just like Schlatt? Has anyone tried to tell him?

Does it hurt, for him to know that they’re all so much more happy now that he’s dead? Does it hurt for him to know that they prefer him dead, and don’t want to bring him back even if they find out that there’s a way?

Is there any part of him that aches at the knowledge that Phil doesn’t regret killing him in the slightest(or does Phil regret it?), or is he happy that way, knowing that there’s no guilt- does it make it more justified, for him to have it as one of his happy memories, because, surely, if even his father is happier when he’s dead, that must meant that it was meant to be.

Right?

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Was Willbur’s body ever recovered? It should have existed, if Schlatt’s did. They’ve got Schlatt’s bones, after all. Did they retrieve it? or was it left to rot in the button room? Did Phil ever go back to bury his son? Is that where Ghostbur woke up? did he come back, standing over his body, or did he come back later, when his body was already gone? Was it disorienting? If they did bury his body, was he there? Was he tangible from the moment he became a ghost or did that take time? Did he ever search out Tommy, Techno, or Phil when he first woke up?

Did he have any memory at all, at first? He’s said that he didn’t remember who Tubbo was till he was called Mr. President. Was it like that for the others, too? Tubbo was someone he grew up with, if he didn’t remember him at first did it take even longer for the others? Did they have to sit there, watching as he tried to help them and didn’t remember any of them?

Did any of them attach him, when he first showed up? Did any of them yell at him, scream about his fuck ups, as he just sat there, not even knowing who they were? Did he ever seek any of them without real reason, just knowing that he had to be there, or does he only go out when he feels he has to help, or that he can contribute something?

Do his memory and go- constantly fluctuating as he tries to better the world around him(I don’t want to be a ghost, all that’s left is suffering), do pieces come and go as he wanders, lost? He’s said he’d rather be dead than a ghost- rather have nothingness over the suffering that was being there, does he ever get flashes of times far worse?

Can ghosts feel any sort of pain? Does he ever get phantom pains, aches from he was alive and injured, does he ever feel like he’s being, again? He’s died three times, each death stacking one atop the other, even if he can’t remember them is there any sort of phantom-muscle memory burning at him? Does he really only remember just the good, or is he lying?

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So, this was a thought that I had before I realized it’d become canon that each character only got three respawns before they actually died, but I still think it holds up decently now.

So, with how flimsy the idea of death must seem to them(would it even matter? some of them probably think, the ones that haven’t died yet. would it even matter if they died, since they’d just come back?) do any of them really give much care into how their life goes? Or do they put more value into material things, such as Tommy’s disks, since those are constant that can’t be destroyed then brought back?

Is the ‘three deaths only’ thing even widely known? Has anyone even bothered to figure out why Willbur and Schlatt died, instead of respawning? Or is it just something you know, a concept that you have known since your very first breath into the world?

Maybe they all latched so hard onto L’manburg not just because it had become their escape from the harsh world, but because it was the perfect blend of there and real, and also filled with hope and happiness and memories. Things that don’t come back must seem all that more precious to them, when they have extra lives to their names. 

In a world where violence is the only way to get what you want, do they ever look at the things more fragile than them and decide that that one, that one will be the thing I keep safe?

Is the loss of L’manburg not tragic because it was the loss of a dream and a hope, but tragic because it was the loss of the things they held dear to them? Buildings can be rebuilt, sure, but they won’t have the same scuff marks as the old one, won’t have the same items and design as the old one. They’re starting from scratch- building the nation in a crater, the leftover destruction of stacks upon stacks of tnt and two whithers.

You can hide your most precious items in an ender chest, sure, but an ender chest is small and some of the items they held dear must gone down with L’manburg when it toppled. A house of cards stacked too high with too much riding on it.

[thebluebirdsfeather]

who lives, who dies, who tells your story

characters: tommyinnit, dream word count: 1023 content warning: mentions of manipulation/gaslighting, abuse, death

He was sixteen and he was dying. 

In all honesty, this wasn’t how he expected it to go. He was surprised he even made it through all the wars, the battles, and the close calls without losing all three of his lives.

But no, he was being beaten to a pulp by his abuser his friend Dream.

He could feel himself slipping with every punch that hit his face.

(He tried to push away the thought of how he tried to make a run for the lava when it started, because anything was better than letting Dream have the satisfaction in taking his final life, in finishing the collection of all three of them.)

He was starting to feel numb at this point, the pain of each punch and kick making the pain blend together and grow to such a peak that it felt like almost nothing at all. As twisted as it sounds, this part, the part in-between being alive and almost being gone, made Tommy feel something almost like peace. It could have possibly been nice if Dream wasn’t laughing so so loudly.

But when you’re gone, who remembers your name?

Many times Tommy had wondered, would he be remembered? Part of him told him no, because if no one could remember him while he was in exile, he sure didn’t think anyone would if he was dead. But a part of him thought, yes. Yes, he would be remembered. Maybe not for the best things, but he was sure he had made enough of an impact on the server to where something, anything, could be remembered of him.

Who keeps your flame?

He hopes Tubbo remembers him. They never had gotten the time to talk things through and explain themselves. Tubbo never would get to tell him about what he missed out during exile, or what he missed out during his prison stay. And he wouldn’t get to tell Tubbo about his time in exile. The nights he stayed awake staring at the stars and hoping Tubbo was staring at them and thinking of him too. But even if he never got to explain himself and apologizes a thousand times over, even if once is enough since it's coming from Tommy, he hopes that he’ll remember him as his best friend, because that’s how he remembers Tubbo in these final moments.

He hopes Sam Nook remembers him. Because even if they had only know each other for a short time and it may sound silly, he had been more of a father to Tommy than Phil, anyone, had ever been. Seeing Sam Nook and being able to work on his hotel made him happier than he had been in a long, long time. It felt like someone finally cared, with no strings attached, even the hotel.

And deep down somewhere inside, he hopes Phil and Techno remember him. Because even if it’s for something small, it means they cared about him at least a little bit, even though they failed to show it to him while he was around.

And when my time is up, have I done enough?

Yes, he had burned down homes. Yes, he had started wars. Yes, he had stolen and been selfish time and time again. But he had also started a nation. He and Wilbur had started a nation. They had transformed a drug business disguised as a hot dog caravan into a nation which stood for many things, even if those things got morphed quite quickly into something they shouldn’t have ever been. He gave up his goals and lives and energy over and over again for this nation. He gave up his childhood for that nation. 

He had fought in so many wars and fights and came out the other end. He made it through being exiled by his best friend, his Tubbo. He barely survived hell in exile with Dream and his own thoughts. (Those thoughts were still there, gnawing and growling in his mind, but he hoped that if he didn’t say anything, maybe they’d disappear.) He started a hotel to help those who lost their homes in the destruction of L’Manburg, his country, Wilbur’s unfinished symphony. 

He’ll never get to see its grand opening, he realizes after the fifteenth punch. He realizes a lot after the fifteenth punch and all the others that follow it. 

He’ll never get to grow up. He’ll never get to live and learn, make mistakes and fix them. He supposes he’s done a lot of that through the events of his life, but he wants to do more. He wants to see the world. He wants to make a little home for him and Tubbo to run away to when the memories get too much and the world feels a little too heavy. 

He’ll never get to see Tubbo again. He’ll never get to sit on the bench with him and listen to the discs. Those stupid discs that nearly cost Tubbo his life. Those stupid discs, that meant so much to him because of the memories behind them. Those stupid discs, that he spent so much time running after, instead of making more memories with the people he loved.

He’ll never get to start a family and show his kids what a real father is. He’ll never get to tell them the stories of him and their uncles, Wilbur and Tubbo. He’ll never get to tell them how lucky they are to be alive right now.

Oh, I can’t wait to see you again. It’s only a matter of time.

He felt nothing anymore. The punches and kicks and the blood running down his body were gone. He heard nothing. Dream’s maniacal laugh faded into nothing, along with the sound of lava flowing outside the cell. All he saw was the whiteness and all he felt was how it was pulling him.

And if he looked closely enough, he could see Wilbur standing in the middle, his arms wide open and an easy smile on his face, one long forgotten since the Pogtopia days and his spiral to madness.

“Welcome home, Tommy.”

[fairfieldthinkspace]

Congress gave away its war powers 20 years ago. Here’s why that system is broken.

The authorizations of 2001 and 2002 allow presidents to conduct ‘private wars’ without scrutiny

By  Phil Klay

Phil Klay is a U.S. Marine Corps veteran, a visiting professor at Fairfield University and the author of the novel "Missionaries."

June 24, 2021|Updated June 24, 2021 at 9:10 a.m. EDT

Originally published in the The Washington Post, June 24, 2021.

The war, supposedly, would be a low-key affair. A few Special Operations troops. Assistance with air power and logistics. Not the sort of thing the American people needed to worry about. It was, as one journalist covering the conflict put it, a “private war.” In a private war, the professionals make the decisions. Our country’s ignorance meant less meddling from politicians and civilians. But those professionals trudging through the jungles of Vietnam in the winter of 1962 would learn over the next decade that decisions made in a private war can have huge consequences.

It was the consequences of military decisions that happen out of public view that came to mind as I watched last week’s debates in the House of Representatives over the possible repeal of the 2002 Authorization for Use of Military Force (AUMF), which passed in the House and is now heading to the Senate. This might seem to be an obscure bit of congressional wrangling over a redundant piece of legislation. The 2002 AUMF was the legal authorization for the United States to wage war against Saddam Hussein’s regime in Iraq. Proponents of the repeal claimed it would help reclaim Congress’s constitutional obligation to weigh in on matters of war and peace, while opponents countered that it should be repealed only if there was a replacement ready. Both sides agreed that the 2002 AUMF was “outdated” and that a repeal wouldn’t restrict any current military missions.

A repeal, nevertheless, is a necessary first step in clawing back a congressional role in decisions about how we use our military. Because the 2002 AUMF lacked a clear focus or expiration date, it became one of the main tools presidents have used over the past two decades to justify the expansion of U.S. wars. It gave the executive branch a wider range of authority than was intended at the time. And when Congress gives presidents wide-ranging war powers, presidents tend to use them to pursue their own private wars.

This has been especially true since the second term of the Obama administration, which began our heavy reliance on drones, Special Operations, contractors and airstrikes, none of which seem to be preventing disaster but all of which are very difficult for journalists to cover. Journalists can’t embed with a drone, they’re usually not allowed with special operators, and the regions where we’re killing people tend to be dangerous places to do reporting, as the death toll of journalists over the past decade attests. Back when I was a press officer in the United States Marine Corps, my mission statement was to provide “timely, accurate information to Marines and the general public.” Because we worked for the American people, we owed them information about what we were doing. But in today’s close-lipped Department of Defense, touchy about criticism, scarred by an Obama administration that liked to pretend it had ended the wars, and from a Trump administration where a “tweet from God” could radically reshuffle their mission, that sense of obligation is increasingly hard to find.

This is a situation, then, that demands more political accountability from Congress, not less. And yet Congress hasn’t been forced to make any major decisions on this new phase of our wars, thanks in part to two laws — the 2001 and 2002 AUMFs. The 2001 AUMF, passed to go after the Taliban and al-Qaeda, has been used to justify 41 operations in 19 countries, many of them operations that mustered almost no public scrutiny. The 2002 AUMF seemed like it was much narrower, passed to “defend the national security of the United States against the continuing threat posed by Iraq.” But long after Hussein’s death, it was cited by the Obama administration as an “alternative statutory authority basis” for its campaign against the Islamic State, and then later expanded by the Trump administration to authorize force against threats to, or stemming from, Iraq in “Syria or elsewhere,” ultimately serving as a legal basis for the assassination of Iranian Maj. Gen. Qasem Soleimani. It’s a nice illustration of how far these authorizations can be stretched that a law passed to allow the United States to strike Hussein was later used to deter Hussein’s main adversary in the region.

That’s why serious accountability for wars overseas will have to begin with the repeal of both laws, the 2001 and 2002 AUMFs, and their replacement with narrower authorizations that specify the enemy, the mission objectives, the geographical limitations and the time when the authorization expires. Otherwise, we’ll continue having wars that don’t simply happen out of the public eye, but also outside of serious congressional scrutiny. In 2017, it took the deaths of four U.S. soldiers in Niger to alert a U.S. senator to the mission, who later told NBC, “I didn’t know there were a thousand troops in Niger.”

And why would he? The senator, Lindsay O. Graham (R-S.C.), may have sat through testimony on our counterterrorism operations in Niger. He might have been in the room that March, seven months before those soldiers died, when Gen. Thomas Waldhauser explained that the command’s intelligence needs weren’t being met, leaving troops dangerously in the dark. But why should Graham have cared? It was a private war, begun at the command of President Barack Obama, using the overbroad powers of the 2001 AUMF. Graham, like the rest of Congress, wouldn’t be held accountable.

Right now, soldiers run risks in complex war zones, while Congress won’t even risk debating and voting on who we should be fighting, where and why we should fight them, what success might look like, and how much it’s going to cost. One opponent of repealing the 2002 AUMF, Rep. Michael McCaul (Tex.), the ranking Republican on the House Foreign Affairs Committee, argued that if the repeal went through, “We need to replace this with an updated AUMF that reflects the threats in the region, the current threats, which is Iran.” But that’s actually one of the benefits of repeal. It would reintroduce the question of our conflict with Iran into the broader political process and force our representatives to explain the stakes to their constituents. That basic level of accountability seems like the least we owe ourselves, our soldiers and the residents of the various countries where we’re killing people.

As a nation founded on a healthy skepticism of abusive state power, whose founding documents complain of keeping “Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures,” rendering the military “independent of and superior to the Civil Power” and “transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation, and tyranny,” we’re becoming far too like the imperial power we declared revolution against. In a democracy, it shouldn’t matter how much you want a war or how great you think that war will be — if you’re not willing to make your case to the American public and have their representatives vote on it, then you shouldn’t get to throw yourself a war.

Repeal of the 2002 AUMF would hardly change everything that’s wrong with our dysfunctional military policy. Most missions are justified primarily under the 2001 authorization, so repealing the 2002 AUMF is more good “congressional hygiene” than a substantive change, as Rep. Peter Meijer (R-Mich.), who served in Iraq with the Army Reserve, told me a few months ago. But it is a good first step. At the very least, as the bill goes to the Senate, it will give us a sense of who cares enough to try.

In the early 1960s, soldiers in Vietnam used to complain that their fellow Americans were ignorant of the war there. “With engagement in a private war comes a certain sense of isolation,” wrote the journalist David Halberstam, “a feeling that while it is their war it is not really their country’s war.” Spiraling disaster soon taught Americans better. Private wars don’t always stay private. And in a democracy, we’re not supposed to have them at all.

[phancystuff]

Trying to Remember How it Feels (To Have a Heartbeat) 4/7

Pairing: Dan/ Phil (Phan) Summary: Dan moves into a new apartment in London and, though it’s a step up from his old apartment, his landlord gives him strange warnings while he’s touring the place– something about the last renters leaving because of ghost sightings. But, Dan doesn’t believe in the supernatural. He quickly changes his tune when he meets Phil Lester, the ghost haunting his apartment. Well, if haunting means quickly becoming the best friend he’s ever had. (Title from Harry Styles’ song Two Ghosts) Notes: Part 4 of my Spooky Week Special! This fic is almost 100% already written and I plan on updating it every day until Halloween. Please note that, although this fic has the warning of major character death, it is not in any way graphic. Tags/ Warnings: ghost au, Halloween, major character death (obv. it’s a ghost au lol), depictions of panic attacks, angst, fluff, HAPPY ENDING, mentions of suicide (it happens in a movie they watch)

Read it on AO3 Part One Part Two Part Three

Late afternoon came and Dan’s skin was sticky with the sweat of staying in bed all day. He extracted himself from the blankets, telling Phil he was going to take a shower. Phil nodded absently, shifting Dan’s laptop so it sat on his lap.

While Dan was gone, Phil opened an incognito window and used Google Street View to explore London, letting himself imagine that he had finally relented to Dan and was walking around London in Dan’s body. Could it be that much of a bad idea? Dan wanted to do this for him-- and Phil was pretty sure why Dan was willing, but that scared Phil even more than possession-- but why should Phil be the one to say no? They both wanted to experience this. Phil directed Google Street View to their apartment complex, staring at it through the computer screen. He didn’t hate the apartment; he had tried hard to think of it as a home, not a prison. But then Dan had come along and made him want so much more.

Phil used to spend his days sneakily watching whoever lived in the apartment at the time. Sometimes he would try to watch TV or look over their shoulders while they were on the internet. Sometimes he would just watch renters eat food, wondering what it would be like to taste again. He would even settle for the ability to eat cheese, and he hated cheese. Phil would very rarely appear in his physical form and it was usually when renter were asleep or away from the apartment. He hadn’t directly and purposefully interacted with anyone until Dan came along.

And Dan had given him a lot more than simple interaction. Dan showed him TV shows and movies and let him play video games. Dan bought and surprised him with gifts. Dan listened to Phil as he spoke about his memories: his mum, his first crush, his A levels discovering YouTube, going to uni, wondering where he was going in life. Phil hadn’t told Dan about his death, and maybe that wasn’t fair, but Dan didn’t push Phil. Dan figured out a way for them to touch and didn’t seem to mind that it made him feel so cold, because it made Phil feel warm. It made him feel an echo of life.

Phil ached with longing. He wanted to be with Dan in every way and sense. He wanted to be able to hold hands. He wanted to be able to warm Dan, instead of freeze him to death. He wanted to... kiss Dan. Phil remembered what it was like to kiss. He had quite enjoyed it, before he had died. He loved the press of lips against his own. The soft scrape of stubble against his chin. The soft, wet heat of the inside of another person’s mouth. Phil wanted to do other things with Dan, too. Other things that Phil missed just as much as kissing. He wanted them to be able to fall in bed, touching each other all over. He wanted to know what it was like to move inside Dan and hold him close.

But, he didn’t want to possess Dan. He wanted to be with Dan as a separate, living, breathing, loving entity. But Phil was dead. His body was a husk-- a mere hollow copy of what it once was. Sure, he cold mould it and shape it into something similar to reality. But, he couldn’t have Dan in the ways that he really wanted. A tear slipped down Phil’s cheek.

“Fuck,” he whispered brokenly.

“What’s wrong, Phil?” Dan said quietly, standing in the doorway of his bed. His hair was wet, curling against his forehead and Phil thought about running his fingers through it. More tears joined the first. Phil balled his hands up into two fists and squeezed, trying to remind his fingers that he couldn’t touch and feel anymore. He was dead, damn it.

Suddenly, words that Phil had been denying for months were spilling out of his mouth and he couldn’t stop them. “I love you, Dan. I love you, but I can’t love you properly.” Phil broke down, pushing the laptop off his body and doubling over into himself.

Dan joined Phil on the bed, pulling the sleeves of his jumper over his hands and gathering the ghost in a tight hug. “Fuck. Fuck, Phil.” Dan squeezed, even though Phil wouldn’t be able to feel the tightening pressure, just the warmth it produced. “I-I love you too. Of course I love you.” He hunkered over the balled-up ghost; it looked like he was shielding Phil from something. His clothes did little to protect him against the cold and Dan was immediately shivering. Phil cried harder at that. He was tempted to disappear into thin air again and save Dan from his icy skin and the feeling of death that was probably being pumped into Dan’s body. Dan shivered harder when his cheek pressed up into Phil’s bare neck. Dan felt like the late autumn wind had been biting at his cheeks for hours. It hurt. But he didn’t want to move. He loved Phil so much; the physical hurt was nothing compared to the recognition that Phil wasn’t as ok as he made himself out to be.

Phil could tell that Dan was shuddering violently. This was what he did to Dan. Where Dan made Phil feel warm and alive, Phil just sucked the life out of Dan. It was a one-sided relationship that, ultimately, hurt Dan. Unable to handle the thought of Dan physically hurting for his sake, Phil made his body disappear.

The next moment happened so quickly, but seemed like years for both of the boys.

As Dan slumped over onto the bed where Phil was previously sitting, Phil felt himself slide into heavenly warmth. His vision blacked out and he was swimming aimlessly in what felt like warmed honey. It caressed his skin, squeezing into his pores and wrinkles. It filled his nose and mouth and he could feel himself drowning. It wasn’t scary; it didn’t hurt. Familiar and unfamiliar images flashed in his mind, replacing the darkness. He saw everything as if he was experiencing it, but the images were so quick that he only just began comprehending them before another one was taking its place. A woman spooning baby food at him. A friend clinking a pint against the one he held. A beautiful girl kissing him. Standing at a mirror, seeing Dan in the reflection. Smells, sounds, tastes, and feelings attacked him while the images played in his brain. Peppermint, baby crying, axe body spray, fur rubbing against his body, orgasms, piano notes, italian food, tongue running up his neck. He couldn’t comprehend the cacophony and it hurt him and overwhelmed his senses. Right as Phil felt that he couldn’t take the chaos any longer and something had to break, it was all over and he was slammed back into reality.

Except, his chest thumped. The heartbeat inside it was so loud and strong that it hurt. He was warm and-- he ran his hands across the material of Dan’s duvet-- he could feel. It was soft and slippery. He could feel the fluff inside the blanket. He smelled vanilla and something spicey. The apartment was slightly chilly, since Dan hadn’t bothered to turn up the heat that day. Dan! Phil looked around the bedroom, wondering where Dan had gone. Realization made Phil close his eyes against the onslaught of sensation. He lifted up his hand and felt soft, slightly wet curly hair. He was in Dan’s body.

He had accidentally possessed Dan’s body.

Phil’s-- Dan’s?-- heartbeat picked up, if that was even possible. Phil’s eyes snapped open and darted over the room. His fingers prickled with numbness. Adrenaline and panic rushed through his blood. Phil’s thoughts raced, wondering what he was going to do. Where had Dan gone? How was Phil going to get out of Dan’s body? Would there be any Dan left when Phil was gone?

Phil? A calm, questioning voice was in Phil’s mind. He recognized Dan’s voice.

“Dan! Oh god, thank god. I’m so sorry; this was an accident!” Phil trembled violently. Phil looked down at Dan’s fingers. They were shaking and he couldn’t stop them. They felt numb and he panicked, fearing that he was doing something irreversible to Dan’s body. “Dan? Dan, I’m scared. Something’s happening to you. I f-feel numb. You, you--”

Everything’s ok. It’s just a panic attack.  My body is just reacting to your inner panic. You have to calm your mind if my body is going to follow suit. I’m ok. You’re ok. Please breathe. Phil followed Dan’s advice, replacing hyperventilating breaths with slow, albeit broken ones.

“Where are you, Dan?”

Shhh, I’m ok. Breathe. Despite Dan’s reassuring words, Phil’s mind continued to spiral and the body that he was in followed suit.

“What helps you when you have a panic attack D-Dan?” Phil’s words stumbled out of his mouth. He was still talking out loud; he didn’t have time to wonder how this worked logistically or if Dan could hear his thoughts.

Ground yourself. Squeeze your hands around your wrist. Drag your fingers over your neck. Hum to yourself. Breathe. Feeling silly, but trusting Dan to know his own body, Phil followed Dan’s advice and continued to breathe slowly and deliberately. It took several minutes, but soon Dan’s body was cooperating. Phil quieted his frantic thoughts.

“Ok. Ok. I’m ok, I think. Well-- I guess it’s you we are talking about.” Phil chuckled without humor. Everything was wrong. He shouldn’t be in Dan’s body. 

For the sake of clarity, let’s just call it you. I’m all yours right now. Dan giggled at the euphemism and Phil wished that he could push Dan over. Well, Phil could, but he figured it wouldn’t be very effective in chastising Dan.

“Note to self: don’t de-manifest when you’re holding me. Apparently that’s how possession works.” Phil stretched out his legs; they ached from being tucked underneath him for so long. Phil was momentarily lost in the feeling of discomfort that he hadn’t felt in seven years. He wiggled his toes. “You got your wish, I guess.” Phil winced, suddenly wondering how he could be so selfish. “Jesus, Dan, I haven’t even checked. Are you ok?”

I’m fine. Phil could almost see him rolling his eyes. I can’t feel anything. I can see what you see, though, so no doing naughty things to my body.

Phil was in disbelief that Dan was actually joking. “Aren’t you frightened?” Phil gasped, exasperated. “This could be permanent! You could die! I don’t know how to get out of your body.” Phil held out a stern finger, knowing Dan could see it. “Don’t you dare make another dirty joke off that one.”

Dan laughed in Phil’s mind, long and loud. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not worried. I trust you; I’m not going to die. And even if I did--

“--Don’t finish that sentence.” Phil was serious all of a sudden. Something in Phil’s tone caused Dan to stop talking.

Well, anyway. How does this work? Like, what do you feel?

Phil tried to capture what he felt into words. But how could you describe to someone what it’s like to feel, smell, and taste again after seven years of numbness? Phil could only liken it to things that captured a little piece of his euphoria. Sudden warmth after a long day outside during the winter. Taking off your shoes and socks after walking for hours. Having your favorite food for the first time in awhile. Orgasming after edging yourself. Dan had stuttered a nonsensical response to that comparison and Phil had smirked.

Together, they discovered that Phil had no access to Dan’s memories or thoughts that Dan didn’t consciously express to Phil. Dan couldn’t hear Phil when he thought to himself, only when Phil spoke aloud. It was as if two conscious minds were existing in Dan’s head at once, but Phil had the control over the body.

Phil discovered that he could choose to speak in Dan’s voice or his own. Both weirded him out. It was odd to hear Dan’s voice come out instead of his own, but it felt wrong when his voice came out of Dan’s mouth. Phil settled on his own voice, still feeling uncomfortable despite having Dan’s full consent.

Phil hadn’t moved off of Dan’s bed, still wanting to give Dan’s body back to him rather than continue to explore this new experience. However, Dan was a pushy voice in his head. Get up! Run around! Touch stuff. Go cook and eat and, Phil, you could leave the house! Let’s go to a restaurant and eat!

“I don’t know, Dan. I feel guilty.” Phil eyed the city outside of Dan’s window warily.

That’s why I trust you. You aren’t going to take advantage of this. But we are here, so you might as well enjoy it.

As always, stubborn Dan convinced Phil to leave the apartment. Phil stood at the entryway to the flat, one foot stuck soundly to the floor, the other hovering over the open doorway. “I’m scared,” Phil whispered, staring at the space directly outside the apartment. “I don’t know why, but I’m scared.”

Dan made a soothing sound in his head. I understand. It’s been a long time. Take your time.

It was minutes later when Phil’s foot was moving again, seemingly of its own accord. He watched as his foot touched the carpet in the hallway. The smell of musty carpet and cat pee attacked his nostrils. Another foot followed behind him and Phil realized that he was outside. Seven years after moving into the London apartment that he had been so excited to find, he was finally out of it. He collapsed onto the ground, his knees giving out underneath his weight.

Phil felt the rough, slightly sticky carpet with his hands. A tear threatened to leak out the corner of his eye. He brushed it away. “Shit, Dan. I’m out.”

You’re out, Dan said, his voice full of wonder. He was enjoying Phil’s freedom as much, if not more than Phil. Keep going. Phil stood up shakily. He couldn’t tell if he was tired or anxious.

Phil felt like a newborn calf, moving down the hall and toward the elevator on clumsy feet. It was almost like he had to learn to walk again. His muscles ached. Did it always take this much energy? Once in the lobby, he couldn’t help but collapse into one of the shitty lounge chairs on the carpet, next to the landlord’s office. Keeping his voice down low, Phil whispered. “I’m tired Dan. Already. I don’t know if I can walk anymore.”

Dan hummed, curious. Interesting. I’m not that out of shape. Phil could hear the smile in his voice.

“I think this has to do with my own shortcomings as a weak little ghost.” Phil replied, watching a middle aged woman walk through the lobby doors and cast him a vaguely confused look.

I won’t make a performance joke. Phil spluttered, causing the woman to look at him again, warily. Phil dug Dan’s phone out of his pocket and put it up to his ear. What are you doing?

“Faking a phone call so that woman stops looking at me like I’m going to murder her whole family.” Phil murmured quietly. “I don’t think I can go outside right now, though. To be completely honest, I may collapse on the pavement.”

I guess it makes sense. You’ve had to build up strength with each new trick you learn. Phil thought back to seven years ago when he first began practicing with electricity. At first, all he could do was dim the tiny bulb on his pikachu bathroom nightlight. That had been before the apartment had been completely stripped of his belongings, of course.

“Sorry, Dan, I wish this had been more exciting. I feel like I’ve let you down.” Phil dragged himself up, walking toward the elevator he had just come down on. He was thankful no one was around to see him re-enter it so soon.

Don’t be sorry. This was amazing. We’ll keep doing it; you’ll get stronger. Phil didn’t have the energy to argue with Dan. He piloted the body out of the elevator, back into the apartment, realizing that he had been too distracted to lock the door. Phil had just enough energy to collapse face-first back onto Dan’s bed and then he was suddenly being ripped from the realm of the living once again.

It didn’t hurt, perse. But the overwhelming sense of loss that returned suddenly was enough to make him hurt. If felt like heartbreak, more than anything else. To make matters worse, Phil didn’t even have enough energy to manifest himself in a physical form. He watched Dan pick himself off the surface of the bed and look around the bedroom. “Phil?” He called out.

Phil focused all his energy to whisper, “Sorry, not enough energy.” Since Phil was in his non-corporeal form, Dan heard the statement echo all around him. The hairs on his neck stood up, despite him knowing that it was just Phil. Dan got the message, understanding that Phil needed to recharge-- whatever that entailed. It was another ghost detail that he didn’t fully get.

It didn’t really matter. What mattered was that Phil had possessed Dan and they were going to continue to explore this new facet to Phil’s afterlife. Dan smiled, knowing that he had been able to give Phil a heartbeat again.  

***

Dan expected things to change after their mutual proclamation of love and the accidental possession, but it really didn’t. Dan and Phil continued to binge-play entire video games and watch way too much TV and poke fun at each other. They continued cuddling on the couch. Dan continued to make videos, his viewers noticing Dan’s new-found happiness and the unique, lighthearted editing style that snuck its way into his videos. His audience came up with hundreds of theories about the change they saw in Dan. Falling in love was at the top of the list and Dan had to smile at his viewers’ intuition.

The only changes to their lives were small. Phil took to laying next to Dan while he slept. They whispered soft, “I love you’s” to each other, every moment that it came to mind. They slipped little innuendos into their conversations, even though they both knew that kind of intimacy was impossible for them. They fantasized about what life would have been like if they could have made videos together. Phil talked about books and live stage shows and fantastical things that Dan couldn’t even comprehend being part of his life. Talking like that should have made them sad, but they had found each other in the end, so why should they dwell on the negative?

And, like with all of the other ghost powers, Dan and Phil practiced possession. It took a month, but by the end of September, Phil was able to walk around London with the strength of a living person. Both of them were delighted; Phil was slowly losing his reservations about possession as it proved to be completely harmless. Phil was finally able to experience his favorite time of year again. The autumn breeze blowing against his skin and the sound of crisp leaves crunching under his feet brought tears to his eyes the first time he had successfully entered the outside world.

Phil had realized, with disgust, that he had the ability to do some pretty nefarious things to Dan while possessing him. With a sick intuition, Phil knew that he could silence Dan’s thoughts or even drive him out of his own body. But, Phil loved Dan. He wanted Dan safe and happy. He could never do what he knew, in the back of his mind, he was capable of.

Dan, meanwhile, got more or less used to the numbness that would overwhelm him when Phil was possessing his body. Just like he had grown used to being cold most of the time because of their incessant touching. Dan didn’t complain and Phil never picked up on the discomfort Dan experienced. Dan was glad of this, only wanting Phil to focus on the feeling of bathing in the autumn air or holding a living being close to him again.

One of Phil’s favorite things to do was visit shelters and pet the dogs and cats housed in them. He loved being able to feel their soft fur and cuddle their warm bodies to his own (borrowed) warm body. The first of October came around and Phil asked Dan if he could “take his body for a spin to see kittens and Halloween decorations.” Of course, Dan had agreed, laying his body flat on his bed and letting Phil’s non-corporeal form sink into his skin. Dan was barraged by lonely images and heart-wrenchingly painful emotions, as always. They were snapshots of Phil’s afterlife; Dan had realized this after the first possession. They were always pretty similar: looking out of their apartment balcony, longing, watching renter after renter come and go, envy, looking down on Phil lying in bed, numbness, staring at the paint fade on their living room wall, boredom, watching an old YouTuber, nostalgia, seeing Dan staring back at him, love. When the images finally disappeared and vision was restored to Dan, he always had to choke back tears at the onslaught of emotional pain. Phil never caught on to Dan’s pain; Dan had to be thankful for his apparent acting skills.

“You ready, Dan?” Dan heard Phil say. It was an odd feeling, being able to see out of your eyes, but not being able to move or audibly speak. Dan likened it to sleep paralysis, something that he had been able to experience as a child. Ready, Phil. It was also odd to be aware of your body moving and a voice coming out of your mouth, but not of your own accord. Dan would never fully get used to it. But, he didn’t mind it.

As Phil made his way to the animal shelter, Dan thought about the experience of possession. He didn’t mind having to sit in a corner of his mind, completely numb to the outside world. He didn’t mind having to explicitly send thoughts to Phil in order to communicate. He didn’t even mind that, the longer Phil was in his body, the hazier Dan’s vision became and the less concrete he felt. Honestly, it was actually relaxing to be able to lose oneself so completely. Plus, anything was worth the happiness Dan could hear in Phil’s voice as he traveled, smelled, felt, tasted again.

Dan watched as his own hand reached out to stroke a pure white kitten. Phil was softly cooing at the little creature, whispering things like “your fur is so soft, pretty kitty” and “you are really the softest kitty in the world, aren’t you? Wow, congratulations on the honor.” Dan giggled so that Phil could hear his contentment. He could only imagine what it was like to feel fur after so many years of numbness.

When you are done presenting the kitty with her award, let’s go to the shop and buy some Halloween decorations. You love Halloween and our flat could use some festivity.

“Dan, it’s October first. Isn’t it too early?” Phil whispered, keeping an eye on the volunteer sweeping up cat fur across the room. She didn’t even notice Phil, thinking he was murmuring to the cat.

Pfft, it’s never to early to decorate for Halloween.

Phil had to agree and admit that he was buzzing with excitement at the prospect of decorating for his favorite holiday. There were just so many wonderful experiences that he had forgotten about that were suddenly coming back to him. He was so thankful to Dan for the opportunity to taste life again.

Ok, that’s our evening plans sorted. We are going to go get some decorations, spookify the house, and watch a creepy movie. Have you ever seen The Virgin Suicides?

“Nope,” Phil replied, gently removing himself from the cat and exiting the playroom, making sure to shut the door tightly on the way out. He brushed long strands of white fur of his (Dan’s) black skinny jeans. “Sounds creepy though.” Phil exited the animal shelter, waving at the volunteer on duty. Phil listened to Dan describe the plot of the Virgin Suicides and the apparent technical genius of Sophia Coppola. Phil enjoyed listening to Dan talk about movies, since Phil had finished a film degree right before he died. Together, but in one body, Dan and Phil made their way to the tube for their halloween decoration search.

Phil bought way too many decorations, but Dan didn’t even try to stop him. Dan found himself telling Phil buy it, every time his hand touched a new, Halloween themed piece of plastic or styrofoam. What was the point of the YouTube money if Dan didn’t spend it on some frivolous Halloween decorations?

Once back at the flat, with an embarrassing amount of shopping bags, Phil exited Dan’s body. After being ripped from Dan that first time, Phil had tried perfecting the art of slowly extracting himself from Dan’s body, like sliding out of bed on a cold, grey morning. Despite Phil’s attempts, they both had to take a moment to become reacclimated to their original forms. This time around, Phil recovered before Dan. He made the living boy a cup of tea. Dan accepted it gratefully as Phil looked on in concern. “Do you feel ok, Dan?”

Dan chugged the too-hot tea, relishing the burning he felt in his throat. There was something disconcerting about not being able to feel for hours on end. Dan had actually been a bit frightened toward the end of their outing, feeling himself getting more and more distant from his physical self. Dan kept his mouth shut, though, not wanting to spook Phil. If Phil sensed even a hint of trouble, he would never possess Dan again. Phil would never get to experience life again. “I’m ok, just a little dizzy. You can’t blame me, can you?” Dan snapped, immediately regretting his tone.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right. I’m sure it’s dizzying.” Phil smiled understandingly.

Dan shook off his discomfort and forced himself off the sofa. “Sorry. That wasn’t fair... Let’s just get decorating, ok? We’ll make this flat look like Jack Skellington himself upchucked straight on it!” Dan’s stomach swooped, but he ignored it and the two boys commenced their festive decorating. They both donned fuzzy gloves and themed jumpers so that they could give each other soft touches while stringing lights and hanging up ghouls, skeletons, and vampires. Dan put on Halloween music (or just a ten hour loop of “Spooky Scary Skeletons: Dance Remix”). They put together an impressive, fake Halloween willow tree (“You have to assemble it? Phiiil, that’s work!”) and placed candy corn wreaths around the flat (“Hey, Phil, I found a place to put the wreath!” “Oh my god, that is horrific, we can’t have it in the bathroom, around Niall’s face!”) They flicked through the different fairy light options on the Halloween tree (“Woah, rave tree! Let’s have a Halloween rave!” “Yeah, Dan, “Spooky Scary Skeleton” makes great rave music!” “I’m glad you see it my way, Philly.”)

Dan collapsed on the sofa again, absolutely exhausted. He admired their handywork. “I’m glad we did this. I’m feeling the festivity! Shove a pumpkin straight up my ass.”

Phil nodded, holding his hands out and spinning around, ignoring Dan’s rude comment.  “I feel so festive, too! I can’t believe I’m actually getting a chance to experience Halloween again!” Phil sat down next to Dan on the couch and pulled the living boy into his arms. Phil wanted to tuck his head into Dan’s neck, but didn’t, knowing that his cold skin would hurt Dan.

“Isn’t it Halloween every day for you, mate?”

“Hah, hah. Very funny.” They sat in silence for a moment, admiring their handiwork. Dan was about to suggest putting on The Virgin Suicides when Phil spoke again. “It was very close to Halloween when I…” Dan’s eye widened when he realize what Phil was talking about. “...died.” Phil whispered, as if saying it louder would make it happen again somehow. “It was late September. I had just moved here.” Dan tentatively wrapped his arms around Phil and carded one hand through his hair.

Dan didn’t know what to say. Phil didn’t offer any more information and Dan didn’t pry, even though he was aching to know how Phil had died. Instead, Dan grabbed Phil’s hand and brought it up to his lips, softly pressing a kiss to the glove. “I love you,” Dan whispered so softly, as if loud words would cause Phil to shatter. “Let’s put on that movie.”

Phil nodded and they separated temporarily. The movie was really good, Dan hadn’t been lying. It was one of his favorites and perfect for around Halloween. It was disturbing, without being gory. It was lonely in an “indie film” kind of way.

Dan and Phil were cuddled up close, so Dan felt the exact moment during the movie when Phil froze in his arms.

One of the suicides. The young girl had stuffed the exhaust pipe of her parents’ old station wagon and died breathing in its fumes. It was always one of the more disturbing images of the movie, but Phil had certainly watched worse with Dan. Despite this, Phil gasped at the image of the girl’s hand slumping of the car door, a cigarette falling out from between her fingers. He sprung up to his feet. Dan paused the movie.

“Phil…? Are you ok?”

Phil whirled around to face Dan and fear prickled in Dan’s stomach. “You--” Phil said accusingly, sticking his finger out at Dan. Phil’s finger shook violently and his chin wobbled with emotion.

“What? You’re scaring me.” Dan replied, softly, meeting Phil’s dark eyes. Phil studied him and collapsed onto the floor, the fight draining out of him as quickly as it had come.

“I thought you had--” Phil pressed his hands into his eyes and let out a desperate cry. Dan stared at him, completely confused.

“Wha--? Phil, talk to me. I don’t understand.”

Suddenly Phil was speaking. His eyes shone, but there were no tears. He rocked back and forth. “I had just moved in here. I was so excited. A London apartment. I expected to move to Manchester, but I found an interesting video production job in London to do while also doing YouTube. The pay was pretty good, so I could afford the city. I thought my life was finally shaping up.”

Dan was shocked at the sudden onslaught of words coming out of Phil’s mouth. They were completely out of place, spilling from his lips like they had been building up for years. Phil sounded unhinged, like the words were some unnatural thing crawling out of his throat. Dan wanted nothing more than for Phil to stop. “Phil, I’m so confused. What are you talking about?”

Phil ignored him. “My death wasn’t exciting.” Dan gasped, realizing what Phil was about to tell him. Phil’s voice was monotone and Dan hated it. This wasn’t the Phil he had come to know. The one who still said ‘rawr’ unironically and did animal impressions around the flat. The one who groaned and bit game controllers when a Sonic the Hedgehog level was too hard. The Phil whose favorite food was popcorn and loved holding Dan’s hand. He sounded, no pun intended, dead on the inside. “It wasn’t tragic or heroic. It was just a stupid accident and I should never have been so angry when you asked about it. I should have never waited this long to tell you. I love you and you should know.” Phil finally looked at Dan. Even if Dan lived for a hundred years, he knew that he would never see an expression more full of grief than the one that Phil wore on his face. Dan could only stare with wide eyes.

Part five