#dsmp as gods au

[sunlit-mess]

What's the piece you're most proud of (that you've drawn?)

nothing beats these two.

[zorishy]

Ode To L’Manberg: It’s Not Your Time to Die

Here is the third work in my series presenting story of L’Manberg in my main DSMP au (Symphony of Gods and Dreamers). The lore dumps I have posted about this au can be found under the “Zorishy’s Bursona Lore” tag.

This poster covers the events of the New L’Manberg/Exile arc.

AU specific details:

• Tubbo gets a custom green L’Manberg uniform

• Dream manipulates Tubbo into exiling Tommy by framing him for helping wilbur blow up L’Manberg

• after Tommy’s exile is announced, Technoblade tries to attack Tubbo, fights and scars Quackity, and then runs off

• Butcher army never finds Techno, they try but never do

• Techno arrived on the SMP in the Technoplane

• Ghostbur doesn’t get his stab wound until the first revival attempt

• Fundy has been aged down, he’s around 3 here

• Wilbur actually has a grave!

•Tommy successfully kills himself by jumping off the tower

• Dream revives Tommy after he jumps off the tower

ADDENDUM: there is an aspect of this poster that is now inaccurate to my au. I changed it so Quackity is the one to adopt Fundy instead of Eret. Why? To fuel tntduo rivalry and also because c!Fundy is part of Las Nevadas.

[rat-creates]

Dream's dads

(I will ramble about them on main)

They love their son very much. He's their little kit

[nomsfaultau]

From the interlude What Happened in the Constellations, wherein kid scp Wilbur meets Philza and loathes him almost as much as he loathes himself.

[bleue-flora]

i need ur opinion on angel cdream

I’ve literally had this for weeks and this is still all I got…

[viorawd]

damn. oh how much I loved dsmp gods lore

my pookies😔

These character designs are not mine!

[rat-rosemary]

Ranboo couldn't breathe. He had fallen into a spiral for seemingly no reason, and now he couldn't get any oxygen in, no matter how hard he tired to follow the square breathing technique Techno had shown him.

Ranboo

"No no no please I can't I cant-"

The walls were closing around him, obsidian burying him alive-

Ranboo listen

Old wounds opening once more, all alone but it felt like he was back in New Lmanburg, screaming and accusations of things he doesn't remember doing-

"I swear I tried so hard I didn't mean it please-"

RANBOO

The next gasping breath he took felt like it was ripped out of him, tears of relief as his form was changed against his will, the shift enough to snap him out of the spiral, like shoving your hands in ice.

Ranboo slumped into the floor, his new wings covering him, soft and fluffy and grounding.

Ranboo

No nevermind, back to panic time. Because that was Dream's voice and Dream was supposed to be in prison and no one was supposed to know about the panic room-

But the room was empty.

"Dream?"

Ranboo called out, his voice rough, cracking embarrassingly

Yes?

"I- Where are you?"

He leaned against a wall,pushing himself up into shaky legs

I'm right here

Dream's voice cooed back, sounding completely directionless. There was something about it that made Ranboo's shoulders loosen, and he feels a bit guilty about it. Dream might be their God, but he's also Dream.

"Here where? Y-You're supposed to be in prison."

Ranboo turned around, covering himself with his wings as he searched the small room. There isn't much to it, there shouldn't be anywhere for Dream to hide in, yet he can't find him. He doesn't even have a couch in here!

I am in prison.

"What? Then. Oh void I have actually gone insane"

A chuckle sounded on his head, and Ranboo felt like something had nudged his mind, a pyscic equivalent of a cat bumping it's head against his forehead.

No, I'm in your head. Don't have another panic attack.

"Wha- How? Why?"

He keeps spinning around, scouring the room. Somehow he would be more relieved if he found Dream now.

You were praying

Dream starts, pausing awkwardly for a moment

Very very loudly

"No I wasn't! I was-"

Panicking. How do you think animals pray to me Ranboo?

"Oh."

Yeah

They fall into silence and Ranboo sits down again, still shaky and unsteady.

It does feel better to not be alone tho. To have the quiet reassurance of someone else with him, even if it's Dream and even if he's not really here.

So... what happen?

"It was... nothing."

It didn't feel like nothing. Ranboo you have no clue how loud you were.

Ranboo squeezed his eyes closed, hiding his face in his hands. Void, this was his personal hell.

"I guess," he hesitated, fluffing up his wings and curling up further under them as he hid his face in his knees, "I've been overwhelmed lately I think? Which is stupid because all the wars are over because- uh."

Because I'm in prison?

"Yes! Or at least they were supposed to be. But everyone is so tense and there's all these politics and ugh! It's supposed to be better now! But it's so scary all the time"

That sucks buddy

Dream's voice had a tilt of dry humor and bitterness that Ranboo didn't really get

I don't know, go take a swim about it? Get away from all this shit?

"I can't swim Dream, I'm an enderman hybrid!"

Of course you can, just-

And then Ranboo was falling over, barely catching himself before he face planted the cold obsidian as his wings and legs dissappear, being replaced with a tail.

"...I'm a seal."

Laughter rang in his head once more, and Dream let go of his form, the tail staying just a few seconds more before splitting back into his normal legs

You're a seal

"And I can just. Do that. And jump into the ocean. And get no burns"

Yes, why would you?

"Well, because I'm an enderman-"

You are. Until you're a seal. And then you're not.

"Oh."

All the response Ranboo got was a small wave of fondness and the mental equivalent of an eye roll. He stood once more, leaning against a wall as he made his way out of the panic room.

From there he walked straight to the ocean, feeling a sticky mix of terror and wonder as he reached the shore.

Dream had left him when he left the panic room, but he once more reached for the god, shaking as he reached the waves bobbing gently against the ice.

With a leap of faith Ranboo jumped in, squeezing his eyes shut as he sank.

Swim

And Ranboo did, opening his eyes and sliding across the water, kept warm by the fur scattered across him. His skin did not burn.

[cosmicasteroids]

Tommy: do you think we are friends in every universe?

Tubbo: I’d think so-

A entry for a clingy duo dtiys on Instagram.

[idkwatthehec]

Me, watching a God of War playthrough:

Man the dynamic between Kratos and Atreus is pretty familiar.

(Kratos, very big, physically strong man, stoic and feared by most others. Afraid of his own rage but quietly loves his son. A literal god.)

Huh yeah wait it’s really familiar

(Atreus, his son, also kinda has anger issues, but tries to see the good in everything until his ego gets a massive boost, Kratos is the one to knock him down a peg)

Wait…is this…bedrock br-

*gets dragged away screaming*

[tommyinnit3]

Parkour civ fans seeing this, I’m sorry you have to see a dsmp fan in the big ol’ 2024 but this is important

Hello, this is an ooc post, but I would like to address an rp blogger in the parkour civ. Community. They are a proshipper and as we all know, that’s disgusting.

Proshipping is NOT a coping mechanism. It is sick and vile.

Included in the screenshots that I have, I also have a screenshot from a discord server I was in with them

[starry-bi-sky]

you can't choose what stays and what fades away

No light, no light in your bright blue eyes I never knew daylight could be so violent A revelation in the light of day You can't choose what stays and what fades away

(and I'd do anything to make you stay)

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

Shen Yuan wakes up in a woodshed.

He's in a body that's not quite his own.

(WIP also available on ao3!)

He wakes up in a woodshed.    

No, actually— let him correct himself. Shen Yuan does, indeed, wake up in a woodshed, but it’s not the first thing he realizes upon waking. No, in fact, consciousness comes quite slowly to him; sluggish, his mind attempting to slog through calf-high bogland without exhausting itself. It’s like he’s trying to drag himself to the surface of a river with a weight tied around his ankle, the weight trying desperately to drag him just as quickly down.    

His senses come to him just as slowly, his hearing and touch and smell and taste all trying to claw its way up back into existence till they’re thrumming beneath the thin skin of his body. Yes, it’s very much like trying to wake up from a long, deep sleep where he didn’t get quite enough rest, and he wonders, not for the first time, if he had collapsed again. His mouth is dry, his lips feel crusty, and his eyes are sealed shut by congealed-whatever-mixture of disgusting bodily fluids his eyes are capable of producing.    

Much like breaking free from sleep-paralysis, the moment he’s able to register that he’s actually sensing things again, the strange, spongy film that had been dampening them suddenly crumbles and collapses. Everything rushes forth like water spilling out of an open dam, or maybe like blood from an open scab, and Shen Yuan is abruptly accosted by the world and its sounds and sensations.   

The sun is hitting his eyes in just the right way that he can see the light burning behind his eyelids – which, that can’t be right, his curtains should be drawn, -- and there’s the distinct and gentle sound of wind rustling past, of birds singing softly, and the faint trill of music floating through. Shen Yuan is abruptly imposed with the mental image of a yellow autumn leaf falling delicately onto a still pond, that is how tranquil the world around him sounds.    

It is so, so, incredibly cliche, that he can’t help but open his eyes with a deep rooting incredulity planting itself firmly in the core of his chest. What he expects to see is the ceiling of his bedroom – the ground is hard enough that, for a moment, he thinks he may have fallen asleep on the floor again, or perhaps the hospital, because then that would at least explain better the tranquil sounds in his ears and the sunlight hitting his face.   

(Except he doesn’t smell the familiar sting of septic and cleaner, nor does he hear the beeping of the heart rate monitor beside him, the bustle and soft murmur of nurses outside that are always on the move. There’s no paper thin and slightly scratchy blanket laid over him. And never, not once, has he been subjected to the sounds of an eight-hour tranquil music ASMR while in the hospital.)  

(In fact, his nose feels rather stuffy. The same way it gets when he has a runny nose that just dried or a bloody nose that just finally stopped bleeding. He smells dirt and wood, and— and… is that blood?)    

There’s still crust clinging to his lashes and the corner of his eyes when he opens them, so his vision is immediately blurred in the way only recent consciousness can create. But even then, he can see the roof clearly enough to know that this is neither his bedroom nor the hospital. Shen Yuan sits up while his heart drops right out of his chest, regretting the action immediately as an ache shoots up his arms and staunchly reminds him of a terrible soreness spread throughout his body, one that he was not previously aware of.   

The hiss he makes is involuntary, and the sound rusted and weak, irritating his sore throat while his head pounds behind his eyes like a hammer against a nail. Get your bearings, Shen Yuan, he thinks, vision swimming, sucking in his dessert-dry bottom lip between his teeth and catching it on the incisors. The air does nothing for the inside of his mouth. Where the fuck am I?  

His eyes flick around the crust poking irritably at his corneas, as he tries to soak in where exactly he is. On instinct, his hands come up to flick away the crust obscuring his sight, and when he pulls his fingers away, there’s dark, brown-red buildup crumbling against his skin.   

Wh—? Shen Yuan rubs his eyes again, and realizes there’s a flaking trail coming from his eyes down his cheeks that, when he rubs at it, peels off into what can’t be anything but dried blood. It does nothing for his rapid-beating heart and the sinking shock and horror settling between his ribs. Why has he been bleeding from his eyes?    

He looks up from his hand. That shock and horror rising as he finally, finally takes in his surroundings, while also realizing, his dry tongue running against the back of his teeth and the corner of his mouth, that he was tasting blood too. Faint and stuck against his gums, but there.   

Shen Yuan is surrounded by cut wood, and beneath him he’s sitting on an old, tattered blanket. He’s wearing robes. Robes, worn and slightly dirty, made of a pleasant-to-the-eye green and white fabric, and straight out of every single Xanxia novel, drama, and poster he’s ever read and seen. There’s a simply, if slightly tattered, white fan tucked against his thigh.   

Oh, oh no. His hands fly up to his hair and— yep. Yeah, slightly tangled but undeniably soft and smooth, black hair slips against his fingers like silk and pours over his shoulders and down his back. It’s ten times longer than it should be, ten times longer than he’s used to, and he’s sitting on the ends of it. He releases his hair only so Shen Yuan can slap his hands against his face, automatically picking at the trail of dried blood on both corners of his mouth. His fingers are chilled against his skin, and he ignores it to trace his new (he thinks—the bow of his mouth and the curve of his cheekbones feels achingly familiar) facial features.   

Whose face am I wearing? What book have I entered? Because wasn’t this transmigration one-oh-one? The last thing he remembers was becoming incensed with the ending of Proud Immortal Demon Way and, in the middle of his scathing rant, dying of food poisoning. This was totally transmigration one-oh-one. Dying after reading a book, only to wake up in a place that was not the modern world, only to realize shortly after that they were now in the book they had just read?   

Wait— if he follows that trope, then... Shen Yuan’s heart decides it’s had enough time in his stomach, and leaps right into his throat. His eyes flitter around anxiously. There are bamboo stalks rising out the window, and the music he’s hearing, Shen Yuan realizes belatedly that it’s the sweet plucking of a guqin. Oh no. Don’t tell me--   

Like an activation phrase, a too-loud notification ‘ding!’ goes right off in his ear, resulting in Shen Yuan flinching violently as a too-bright and eye-stinging blue message box seals open into existence right before his eyes.   

[ SYSTEM Successfully Activated! Welcome to the world of Pride Immortal Demon Way! You are ‘Shen Jiu’ -- otherwise known as Shen Qingqiu, thirteen-year-old Disciple of Qing Jing Peak. Currently your actions are restricted due to a frozen OOC function that will eventually be unlocked after you familiarize yourself with the world. ]  

No! Of all the people he could have been transmigrated into, did it have to be the villain? Scum Disciple Shen Qingqiu? No— no, of course it was the villain; wasn’t that also transmigration one-oh-one as well? That the transmigrator was either the hero, the villain, or an NPC related to either one?   

Was this karma? Was the world enacting karmic justice on him for all those late nights spent arguing with internet randos online when he should have been doing something productive with his life? Of all those hours spent countlessly researching mythical beasts and animals and folklore all so he could tear the author a new one for his terrible plot and even worse papapa? Did Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky inflict some kind of curse on him that resulted in him being dragged into his shitty, shitty, stallion novel to act as the same guy who later gets his limbs torn off and pickled by the main protagonist?   

It had to be. That’s exactly what this was. This was karma.   

(Oh god, he’s never going to see his family again, is he? He’d died. He’d died in his world, he knows it. That’s how this always goes. At least he hadn’t been hit by a truck, at least he’d died somewhat originally. But he died. He’d been choking and everything went dark. The fluid filling his lungs, the lack of air, the steady crawl of blackening fuzz slowly encircling his vision--)  

(Who will find his body? How long will it take? It’d only been a week prior that he’d gotten into a fight with da-ge and the others, and they usually give him space for a while when they do. It’s not like Shen Yuan had any close friends left either--)  

(Will they find him rotting? Will they blame themselves? What will they think?)   

--(...Oh god, who was going to tell Hai-ge--?)--  

Shen Yuan drops his face into his hands, ignoring the throbbing of his skull and the influx of nausea that sloshes from his chest to his stomach as he does. He groans, low and painful, ignoring the sharp sting of his throat it causes. Does it have to be Shen Qingqiu? He asks, and wonders if the SYSTEM needs an audial vocal command or if it would just--   

[ You have been chosen to play Shen Qingqiu, the Scum Villain Disciple! ]   

Annoyance burrows into his throat. That’s... not what he asked. His teeth grind against each other, the stupid message box burning into his eyes. That at least answers that question, though. He won’t have to talk aloud to communicate with the SYSTEM, so at least he won’t look insane for talking to himself in public. Why does it have to be Shen Qingqiu?   

[ Shen Qingqiu plays a vital role in Pride Immortal Demon Way! You have been chosen to take on his role as the Scum Villain Disciple. ]   

What vital role!? Shen Qingqiu, sure, had a role in the beginning of the book as the disciple who did nothing but cause a ruckus and trouble on Qing Jing Peak when the protagonist’s back was turned; trying to drag Peak Lord Luo Binghe’s precious name through the mud while inciting what was basically tyranny by clawing his way up to a Head Disciple position through being a green tea bitch. He then went and used that power to abuse and bully the younger disciples when the adults weren’t looking.  

He only got away with it for so long because Luo Binghe was so busy with important missions and night hunts and the sweeping-of-peerless-beauties off their feet off the peak, that when he was on Qing Jing, it wasn’t long enough to realize just who was behind the disruption. And Shen Qingqiu was sneaky about it, so it took even longer. 

Only coming to a head at the Immortal Cultivation Conference when demons attacked and it all came to light like a hellish volcano, resulting in Shen Qingqiu not only finding out about Luo Binghe’s status as a half-heavenly demon, but also him being pushed into the Endless Abyss. He re-emerges half a decade later, brimming with demonic cultivation and a half-crazed lust for power and vengeance — revenge that ends up failing because he’s going up against the powerful protagonist.  

He causes a handful of actual problems before Luo Binghe finally has enough, and in the end, Shen Qingqiu ends up with his non-vital limbs cut off and stuffed inside a jar like a human pickle. A horrifying and befitting ending for any villain and antagonist of the main character.  

That is to say, nothing about him is actually vital. He was, for all intents and purposes, pretty much a low-tier cannon fodder villain meant to boost up and accentuate the protagonist’s abilities in the beginning of the book. A way to introduce the audience to the might and intelligence of the main character and their problem-solving skills when there is a ‘mysterious figure’ going around besmirching his name.  

Which... may just work in his favor, actually. Shen Qingqiu ended up with the fate he got because he went against the protagonist, a big no-no in practically every trashy novel. So, solution so Shen Yuan doesn’t end up a human stick? Don’t get in the protagonist’s way.  

That annoying ‘ding!’ rings in his ear, causing yet another flinch out of Shen Yuan as a notification unapologetically forms in front of him.  

[ WARNING: OOC! Host’s refusal to stay in character will result in automatic point deductions. If Host’s point score gets too low, SYSTEM will automatically mete out punishment. ] 

Of course it wasn’t that easy. Of course not, because why would it be easy? Of course there was a point system, this was a SYSTEM after all. Of course he couldn’t just avoid the villain’s fate, because that’d be too easy. His annoyance simmers out across the plane of his chest, and he decidedly ignores the faint tremor in his arms and the pulsing beat of his heart as he picks himself up off the ground and stands.  

His legs, much like his arms, tremble, and his head swims. He pushes through it, ignoring the ill-feeling of fear making itself home in the pit of his stomach. He should ask what those punishments are; what they’ll look like. He should ask about the point system, about how to increase his point score, about all the functions in the SYSTEM and what he has available, and what he does not.  

He should ask how old he is – because he’s much smaller than his old adult self had been; probably child-sized? -- and where he is in the book. What year is it, how long until the Immortal Cultivators Conference. Just when is he? 

Shen Yuan reaches out to grip onto a particularly towering stack of firewood, careful not to knock it or himself over. It feels like physical therapy all over again. Granted, a primitive, unsupervised, cobbled-together version of physical therapy, but physical therapy, nonetheless.  

His foot kicks against the fan, he’d frankly forgotten about that, and it slides off the blanket and across the dirt. His fingers twitch to grab it, something possessive and uncomfortably vulnerable rearing in his lungs – ah, an instinctive emotion from the original goods then? He’s heard of that in other transmigration stories he’s read, the novels failed to mention the full extent of how strange it felt.  

(It felt so eerily natural to want to pick it up. Of course he’d be upset about kicking it, and the unhappiness of dirtying it slots itself against him like second nature. How strange. How creepy.)  

Instead of asking any of that though, Shen Yuan turns his bitter mind inwards to the SYSTEM and asks, perhaps, the most important question of them all; Why did you bring me here if you were just going to kill me again?   

Isn’t that unnecessarily cruel?  

[ Host has been brought to Pride Immortal Demon Way because it is our sincere hope that Host can transform this stupid work into a magnificent, high-quality, first-rate classic! As part of the welcoming package, and to help ease the transition, a few things have been left in Host’s inventory! We hope you enjoy your time in Pride Immortal Demon Way! ]  

To change-- 

To change--?  

To CHANGE--?  

Indignancy surges itself from the tips of Shen Yuan’s fingers to the crown of his head, anger not unlike every single time Airplane threw away an interesting plot point for sex fuzzes out his vision and turns his pounding headache into a full-fledged migraine. His grip on the firewood tightens, and he can feel the rough and textured bark digging into his skin. 

His mouth curls inward, the cracked skin splitting down the middle of his bottom lip as Shen Yuan threatens to snarl at the SYSTEM. How the fuck am I supposed to change the plot if I can’t even change the way my character acts!  

[ Reminder to Host: The OOC Function is frozen, but not permanent. Once Host has become properly settled in and completed the tutorial will he be able to unlock it. ]  

Fine, fine! He has half a mind to unload a string of curses at the SYSTEM, because apparently its rules were as stupid as the author who made this world. Shen Yuan refrains; he doesn’t know how sentient the thing is, and upsetting it right now when he has no idea when he is – nor does he know a thing about the point system -- would only be detrimental for him in the long run. 

Instead, he lets loose a groan from his throat that could be more accurately compared to as a growl. With his one free hand, Shen Yuan drags his palm down his face, and then loops it back up to comb it through his hair. ...His hair that is much longer than it used to be, and which is snaggled with little knots and tangles that he’ll have to get out.  

He hits the first knot and immediately withdraws his fingers, freeing up a few strands of ink black hair while he’s at it. With a quick wrist shake, the strands fall to the floor and Shen Yuan leans the rest of his weight against the log pile. Some of his anger cools down until it’s nothing more than boiled water gone cold, and he sighs out through a clogged-up nose until there’s nothing more than a quiet pressure of unease curled around his shoulders.  

There’s really not much he does know about how Shen Qingqiu acts – after all, he put up a responsible and dutiful disciple front when he was in the presence of Luo Binghe, and was only then revealed to be a scumbag later down the line. Which only got backed up with secondhand accounts of the other Qing Jing Peak disciples.  

He didn’t show up often either, since most of the time Luo Binghe was off the peak. Nobody wants to read about a powerful peak lord being a teacher after all. Many more interesting things in the world around him than his students.  

SYSTEM, how old am I? He must be pretty young if he bases it off how small he is – although, Shen Qingqiu didn’t have much of a description in the first place. He was only described as having skin as white as jade, with glossy black hair and a noble air surrounding him. Height, eyes, and finer details like that were left unmentioned. Why did I wake up in a woodshed? What time is it? 

[ Host is currently thirteen years old! Last night Shen Qingqiu experienced a severe Qi Deviation after having an altercation with the Head Disciple. It is early morning; the other disciples will be getting breakfast. ] 

That doesn’t explain why he was in a woodshed. But at this point, Shen Yuan was starting to believe that he wasn’t going to get a straight answer out of every question he asks. That does explain the blood in his mouth and crusted on his face – and the soreness and exhaustion currently wrought through his body, though.  

In a rapid set of blinks and a little bit of mental fiddling, the message notifications disappear out of his sight and the rest of his senses begin to filter back in, the SYSTEM seeming content to disappear into the back of his mind – which, wow, feels just as weird as the original goods’ instincts from earlier. 

More of his own strength had returned, enough that Shen Yuan feels comfortable with pushing himself off the firewood stack and standing on his own. Making sure that his legs won’t collapse under the weight of his own body, he takes a tentative step forward and drops his gaze down to the little white fan sitting on the ground.  

...The idea of leaving without it returns that discomforting, vulnerable feeling from earlier, as if he had walked out without a shirt on. The hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand up on its own with unease. Shen Qingqiu was mentioned to hide his face behind a fan in every appearance he made, it must be the original goods’ emotions he’s feeling then. Again.  

He leans down, his core trembling just a little, and plucks it right off the ground. The grooves of the wood fit against his fingers perfectly, hinting at weeks, if not years, of use and the oils of his hands wearing it down. He beats the side of the fan against his leg lightly, ignoring the bruising-aches it shoots up his thigh, and brushes off the dirt clinging to it.  

Without thinking, Shen Qingqiu flicks it open and flutters it about for a few quick beats. The unnerving, skin-crawling sensation marking across his spine settles down, and he snaps the fan shut before reaching for the door.  

[ OOC: Host should make himself look presentable before being seen in public. Failure to do so will result in immediate point deduction. ] 

Shen Qingqiu grits his teeth again, there’s nothing in here but dirt and wood, how am I supposed to do that? It’s not like he had the whole layout of Qing Jing Peak memorized; Luo Binghe was barely on so where everything was, wasn’t important. Is there some kind of bathhouse somewhere?  

Which, if there was, he wasn’t planning on using until it was entirely empty – the mere thought of it returned that gross, uncomfortable skin-crawling discomfort. He’ll shower at night, thank you, repressing a shudder at the horrifying idea of someone potentially walking in on him.  

[ OOC: Shen Qingqiu would never bathe with the threat of other disciples around. There is a nearby creek that Host can clean himself up at. ]  

That’s really not much better.  But, so long as he isn’t undressing in public, he can probably just... wash the dirt off and get his hair damp enough to detangle it. If Shen Qingqiu was sleeping in here, then he probably has a change of clothes somewhere around here, right? He should look around for any hidden bags before leaving.  

He finds a small qiankun pouch tucked safely between a set of wood logs near the blanket, and inside it is a clean set of robes for him to change into, which, perfect! The robes he was wearing right now weren’t terribly dirty, but there were a few dirt spots visible enough that Shen Qingqiu was sure that he’d probably get a point deduction out of it, or a scolding from senior disciples.  

(Does Shen Qingqiu sleep in the woodshed often? Shouldn’t he be in the dormitories?)  

He plucks the bag out of its little hidey-hole, giving it a place on his belt, along with his newly acquired fan, and turns towards the door. Shen Qingqiu crosses the room in the span of a few large steps, and just as he’s about to curl his hand around the handle, he... pauses.  

It’s only for a split second, a moment of hesitation, of personal confirmation that, once he opens this door, there will be no going back. Not that there was since he opened his eyes, but, it would cement it.  

Shen Qingqiu breathes in a shaky breath, and then opens the door to the rising sun.

[zorishy]

Ode To L’Manberg: My Unfinished Symphony

I’m back with the second work in my series presenting story of L’Manberg as written in my main DSMP au (Symphony of Gods and Dreamers). The lore dumps I have posted about this au can be found under the Zorishy’s Bursona Lore tag.

This poster covers the events of the Manberg vs. Pogtopia arc.

AU specific details in this poster:

Fundy has been aged down

Sally burned the flag and delivered Fundy’s “You had a dream and I followed it” line

Tubbo escaped the Manberg festival without being executed

Technoblade had no involvement in L’Manberg during this arc, only Pogtopia

Dream also had no involvement in this arc

Dream already had the revival book before the events of the server

Wilbur was badly injured in the explosion of L’Manberg and Phil killed him out of mercy

The button in the final control room was armed with TNT

The button Wilbur pressed to blow up L’Manberg was the one in the final control room

[rat-creates]

Also have this sketchy comic of the dads during the prison arc

George might not be their kit, but he loves him too, so they'll take care of him when Dream is locked away

George and Sapnap call Dream's dads "Mr Rabbit" even now

(There so many rabbits around the prison. Every single day, they watch and watch and watch, from Quackity leaving Las Nevadas to Sam going to grab more supplies. They're always watching. Sam is convinced that if either of them goes into any forest they're going to be mauled)

[nomsfaultau]

out of context plot points in Mandatory Family Reunion

Most of these are from gags from my fic. But others are horrific events completely reframed. Good luck guessing which is which !

A Dr. Pepper ruins Techno’s life

Tommy gets grounded for trying to shoot Philza

Techno has an AA meeting with his kidnappers

“Fun life advice with Techno: Turns out it’s not hard to fake cry when you’re constantly trying not to sob! Neat. Probably super applicable for normal people too.”

A black ops raid is sent to deliver Christmas presents

Tommy carries onions in his pockets so he can fake cry on command. This is funny until it isn't

On the other hand, that isn't modeling clay in Wilbur's pockets

Techno’s parents always have his back!

“It’s just the anxiety. I feel like I would’ve seen the achievement pop up if I got PTSD.”

Philza gets a rabies shot because of Techno

“But if [Philza's] years of running a criminal empire have taught him anything, all it takes is a can-do attitude and unfathomable wealth.”

Officer Jenny commits police brutality

It's always a bad sign when you can hear your parents giving you advice

Philza straight up drinks poison but is alright (unlike Skeppy)

Squidkid loses hide and seek with Wilbur bc he’s a dirty cheater

Techno’s hair is burnt off but, like, it’s not a big deal

If you can't replace your son's abusive parents yourself, store bought is fine. (Philza actively gets more scared when it works)

It's not a coma if you're in enough denial about it!

“[Tommy] hands over a real security ID. Sure enough, the middle name actually is Danger. Sam has very interesting parents, and a long and fascinating backstory that will never be mentioned again.”

Quackity implies Edgeworth x Wright is cannon

Techno hits rock bottom in an elevator. actually 3 people in the fic have elevator trauma. Maybe the real Mandatory Family Reunion was the elevator trauma we made along the way.

“Skeppy, I think the dog has ulterior motives.”

GPS failure nearly costs a court case

Techno helps run a criminal empire for like 2 weeks. But not that criminal empire.

“They were like a family to me” and “I love you” and “For you? The world, Phil” are the most devestating lines techno says

Yes. This story is definitely pure crack. No angst here no siree! It's all jokes and japes galore. Ignore the sobbing.

[elfecassepied]

hellooooo!!!

yap to me about your Dsmp x Epic AU!! I'd love to hear about it!! :DDDDDD

Yeeeesss *vibrating*

Me with this au right now:

Ok so. I'm a big fan of the Odyssey and Epic the musical, the story of the AU isn't a 100% copy of these sources materials mostly characters like and lore like. For what I've seen now the narrative course is the same than the musical until the Vengeance Saga (the Vengeance Saga rocks but I want to do something a little different and maybe closer than the original Odyssey. I'm not sure yet but I just love the Phaeacians so much I will do something including them). I don't really care about the Troy war (I mean in the au, I love classicals Iliad included) so I didn't bother matching dsmp's characters for Iliad's characters, like Diomedes, Aganemnon, Helen and all.

Dream is the reigning king of Ithaca(™) who is dragged, literally, in the L'Manberg war away from his family. George is his wife (we don't believe in gender in this house) and I chosed Tubbo to be Telemachus (inspired by one of the dynamic I sometimes see in fanfiction were Tubbo and Dream are brothers coded).

George gets a little more, proactive role I would say, in defending his house from the suitors. Suitors started to come since 11 years or something like that. He can't really fight all these men who are youngs, well equipped and full of energy when himself runs a kingdom low on resources and men where the current military force is young and unexperienced (missing the prev generation to teach them). So he uses more sneaky ways, and it's not so rare than some suitors suddenly change their mind and leave or were never been seen again after getting a little to bold. Callahan is George's confidant and "right hand man" and yes he helps him hide the bodies. George also has an ongoing deal with the god HD (Hera's role).

Tubbo doesn't know what's going on but George said him to always tell me if one of the men was rude to him (the ones who threatened his son always disappeared first). But he tries to help is own way which mostly translate by being a little shit and sometimes got into fights with the assholes, like the small feral gremlin he is.

On the other side of the sea, Dream just lost around ten of his men including his little-brother/almost-son figure Ranboo to the hands of an angered cyclop, Ponk. And follows it by having a fight with his protector god and perceived friend Technoblade, resulting in the god leaving him alone to face the new challenges on his way: especially the wrath of the god Sam, who was Ponk's boyfriend oops. He will encounter threats and allies equally, including: the god Philza and his crows minions, the shape-shifting enchanter Quackity on his island of Las Nevadas, visiting the underworld to have a chat with the prophet Karl Jacob, slaying some sirens and feeding the sea monster Nikki with some of his own men.

At first I wanted to make a parallel between the human trio Dream, George and Sapnap (Eurylochus), and a god trio XD (Zeus), HD (Hera) and PVP (as Apollo or Ares I wasn't sure). However I changed my mind, made Punz Dream's best friend and right hand man and yeeted PVP to make Sapnap himself a god because I wanted to have an unnecessary Karlnapity storyline in the background. Take it, it's free.

Also I separated Wilbur in two characters: L'Manberg Wilbur/Ghostbur named William who was the crown prince of L'Manberg and died in the war before the beginning of my story and Pogtopia Wilbur/Revived Wilbur who I call Wilbur and who is an exiled titan, ancient friend of Philza and Technoblade, playing the role of Calypso. Tommy was William's little brother and a literal toddler Dream killed by throwing him from L'Manberg's walls.

I have an ongoing theme with how mask/hiding face is linked to inhumanity and how gods or godly beings Dream will meet on his way will somehow hide a part or their full face ; and how he himself started to wear his iconic mask as he chose the path of monstrosity ; and at the same time George assassinated suitors in silence, wearing a veil and pretending to grief his husband ; while Technoblade even if he said he was done™ with humans will be befriended by Tubbo until he stops wearing his mask around him because he's growing closer to humanity. So yeah shits like that.

I will end this little vent with a non-fixed list of the gods I talked about and their domains:

XD (Zeus), king of the gods, god of order, power, lighting, possibilities and civilization

HD (Hera), queen of the gods, god of night, sleep, oaths and destiny

Sam (Poseidon), god of sea, strength, earthquakes, energy and creativity

Technoblade (Athena), god of blood, battles, vitality and strategies

Philza (Aeolus), god of winds, tempests, travelers, sailors and change

Sapnap (Apollo), god of the Sun, fire, protection and loyalty

Wilbur (Calypso), titan of music, song, chaos and free-spirit (for now *wink*Fundy*wink*) (ex titan of fire and war)

[missmrvee]

*gays your gods*