#villain techno

[lildevyl]

FebuWhump Day 11: Time Loop

DAY 11: Time Loop

Summary:  Time Keeper has seen the devastation the Syndicate caused.  L’Manburg is nothing but a crater.  If only he had gotten there sooner!  If only he could have saved him!  If only there was a way to prevent this from happening.

TW: Mention of a Major Character Death. Don't worry! The Character doesn't stay dead!

A/N: Okay, more of a Time Travel than a Time Loop but I had this idea stuck in my head for weeks now! Still trying to figure out the chapters for Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic but don't worry! Once I start writing again, updates will be coming!

Thank You all for your Understanding and Patience!

(L’Manburg in the Future)

Time Keeper stood there feeling numb.  The destruction of L’Manburg all around him, Siren laughing maniacally commanding all the officers and riot squads to turn on each other.  Erinyes the “Blood God” has taken on a Blood Lust like no other and began taking on any Hero or Vigilante down with his sword and blood energy.  Orcus was no better, the once well-known Hero Archangel has now become the Angel of Death.  Blacking the skies and having his crows swoop down and attack civilians and killing anyone who dared challenge him to a duel.

Time Keeper stood on top of what was left of the once pristine building that was known throughout as Hero Tower, looking out at L’Manburg, now L’Mancrator or the “Pit” the Blood God called it.  When the Syndicate lost their youngest family member Theseus, they all lost it.  Finally snapped.  If the Heroes refused to honor the Honor Code and have no problem in getting away with murder.  Then the Syndicate will have no problem in doing the same.

The only difference was the Syndicate had no problem in going out into Egopocalpse to gain even more power.  Egopocalpse, the Alternate Universe where they all live from the Real World of their Creators.  Yes, everyone here knows that they are “Characters,” “Alter Egos,” of their Creators.  That is when their Creator and the Community behind them stop making content, whether it is Fan Art, Fan Fiction, Cosplays, Theories, Videos, Clips, Songs, Fan Games, or anything else on Social Media or other Platforms.  Then they, the Characters, would “Fade.”  But some Characters/Egos, like Darkiplier or AntiSepticeye, hate the idea that one day they will fade.  So, they try to take over to keep that from happening.

However, grief can do a lot to someone.  Even though they all know that one day they will fade from this world, just the mere fact of losing someone you love can be devastating.  The Syndicate, desperate to bring their youngest son/brother back, ventured out into Egopocalpse seeking the most powerful Egos they could find.  Phantom and Darkiplier were unable to bring Theseus back, his soul had already moved on to the Other Side and it wouldn’t be the same Theseus if they took a different one from another Multiverse.  But what they could do, however, was to give them each a power like no other.

Siren could command anyone and there would be no limit to the amount of people, and the command would stay even if he left.  But he had to be careful because he could accidentally hurt someone he loved.  He didn’t need to sing for them to be under his control and he would have complete control of anyone who could hear him, even if they covered their ears.  The price was a piece of Siren’s sanity.

Erinyes could cut through any building and slice through anyone with an energy wave and nothing would be able to contain him.  The price would be his blood lust.  The more blood that was spilled the stronger he became to the point of Demigod power and used that energy of the spilled blood to take down anyone who dared to face him.  No Hero or Vigilante would be able to stop him.  Pandora’s Box would never be able to hold him.

Orcus, the once beloved Hero known as the Archangel.  The Guardian Angel of L’Manburg, with the power of Air Bending and Wind, had become the Angel of Death.  He now has the Power of Death.  Able to kill a single person just by touching them and being able to bring that person back as a Zombie completely under his control.  The price was his remorse and empathy.  Orcus would feel no remorse, no empathy, no guilt for anyone, not even his own family.  He’ll still feel love and pride but cannot feel or show any guilt for what he’s done, said, or planned to do even if it cost them dearly.

They all said yes and days after Theseus’s Funeral, they destroyed the one thing that the Hero who killed Theseus loved more than anything else, the City the Hero had sworn to protect.  Killing Millions of innocent lives in their wake.  And the Syndicate true to their word did exactly that.  They planned over five tons of TNT all over the City and detonated it.  Leaving L’Manburg as nothing more than the Crater.

“Hehehehahahahaha!  L’Manburg!  You’re L’Manburg Dream!  An Unfinished Symphony forever unfinished!”  Siren called laughing hysterically at the destruction he caused.

“Thought I might find you here,” a voice said right next to Time Keeper, making the Hero nearly jump out of his skin.

Time Keeper turned around and was face to face with one of the Egos who was responsible for all of this, Phantom.

“What do you want?!”  Time Keeper demanded.

“I can help,” Phantom said, looking at the L’Mancrater with an unreadable expression.  He turned to Time Keeper.  “You called, I heard, I can help.”

“Why?  Why do you want to help?  Why should I believe you?  You’re the reason this even happened!”  Time Keep lost his composure and lost it.  Why now?  Why does Phantom want to help now?!  He was the reason this all happened.  He was the one who offered the deal to the Syndicate in the first place!  All he wants is Chaos and Destruction so why help?

“I’m not the one who caused all this, Time Keeper.  The Hero named Dream who killed Theseus was responsible for all this!  If he didn’t kill the Healer, the one who told Dream that ‘Healers don’t play God, they don’t choose who lives or who dies.  And you, being a Hero, should know that!” 

It was weird hearing Theseus’s exact words and cadence come from Phantom.  “And what did Dream do?  He’s the one who played God and lost.  He killed the youngest member of the Syndicate and did it on live television when the Hero Committee couldn’t pay their way out to the News Networkers and he got caught.”

Time Keeper stayed silent.  He knew.  He knew there was corruption in the Hero Committee but he just kept turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to it all.  Wanting to live in that ignorant life of not knowing.  Believing that the Heroes weren’t killing someone unless they had to.  But after Dream killed Theseus, it’s still unknown even now if it was an actual accident or if Dream did it intentionally.

Time Keeper still remembers Dream begging him to go back in time and stop him from doing this.  To save Theseus!  The mantra of I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t I didn’t!  I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean!  Bring him back, bring him back, bring him back!  Kept repeating in Time Keepers mind.  He was able to go back in time but not to the exact spot where he was.  He goes back in time and knows what happened those minutes/hours ago before he traveled.  But Time Keeper would wind up where he was before the situation happened and then has to get there in time to stop whatever happened.  But he couldn’t.  Time Keeper no matter how often he traveled just could never make it there in time.

When the Syndicate saw what happened Erinyes went right after Dream, determined to kill him on the spot.  Siren was sobbing and cradling his baby brother.  He looked at the Heroes, ripping his mask off showing everyone who was under there.

“Are you happy?!  Are you finally satisfied that you finally killed a member of us?  You killed a child!  He just turned twenty-one!  He didn’t do anything but fucking heal you all!  He healed Vigilantes, Heroes, and yes us Villains.  Because Healers don’t play God!  Unlike you who have no problem in sending children as soldiers!  Having Orphans and the ones in Foster Care on the front lines just so you can sit in your Penthouse Suites!  What did he do to deserve this?!”  Siren demanded.

“Do you finally believe us?!  When we kept telling you what the Hero Committee was up to?  That they are Corrupt?  That they don’t give a shit?  That they will silence anyone who tries to tell the truth about them experimenting on Hybrids just to make Heroes to control and Villains to show that the world needs Heroes?  Do you finally see what they are?”

No one said a word.  Too shocked by Siren’s outburst and the fact that everyone was seeing his face for the first time.  But the shock soon worn off with the next thing that Siren said.

“Hehehehahahah!  You all will pay!  We will get our revenge and the one thing you treasured and loved more than anything in the world will be destroyed and it will never be able to bring it back.  It’s all your fault Dream!”

Then Siren bent down and grabbed Theseus, scooped him up in his arms, and gave him to Orcus.  Then he ran and lept off the building.

“I suppose you’re right,” Time Keeper said, coming back to reality.  “But what can you do to help?”

“I can send you back.  I know you keep blaming yourself for never being able to save Theseus.  It’ll be before all of this happens.  Years before, when the seeds were planted and Dream began to go down that path.  You can save two people.  Dream from losing himself and going to the Darkside and you can save Theseus from dying.”  Phantom offered.

“How much time will I have to relay the message?”

“Not long.  You can only go back hours in the same timeline but if I do this you will only have minutes to relay the message.  You can warn someone, but I can’t guarantee who you will see.  But if you want to warn the Syndicate then you better warn yourself as well.  I can send you and one other person back momentarily.  But we have to be careful.  Creating that kind of Time Rift can and will have a lot of consequences.”

“What’s the price?”

“Your memory.  You will start to lose your memories the more you travel back or forward in time, more than a few minutes.”

“What about my past self?  Would there be consequences for him?”

“He will start to lose his memory too.  Slowly, but it won’t be that bad.  And you will be seeing parts of the future the minute you cross paths with Theseus and the member of the Syndicate you choose to go back to warn you.  But I must warn you if you say yes, then your time-traveling abilities will get a jumpstart and you will become very powerful.  Demigod powerful.  And if your past self finds a way like your future self has.  There will be a way for you two to talk in a Time Rift but only briefly.”

“What do I have to do?”

(Manifold Hotel)

Jack let out an exasperated sigh when he returned to the back of the bar in the hotel.  It was nights like these that Jack contemplated his life choices.  His Granddad left him, the hotel, and at the time, Jack was overjoyed!  Jack loved the hotel business and always imagined himself taking over one day.  But at this moment with hundreds if not thousands of fans for this “wonderful” Meet N’ Greet with the Heroes.  Jack was seriously starting to see why his parents decided to duck out of the business.  The “Karens,” Jack could handle but these obsessive fans over their favorite Heroes?  Good Primes above!

“Yo, Casey!  We need another round of your famous Chocolate Chip Brownies and another round of Punch!  The fountains are getting low!”  Jack called out to the Kitchen as he made his way to the back to restock the Buffet.  “Casey!  Did you hear me?  Casey?”

When Jack looked up from his tray, his mouth hit the floor.  Everyone in the Kitchen was frozen.  It looked as if they became wax statues with how still everyone was standing.  But what caught Jack’s attention the most was the water from the faucet froze as well.  It was still water, but it didn’t move, it didn’t make a sound.  Then, to Jack's utter surprise colors burst out from the corner warping everything around it, and the sound of energy crackling through the air was heard.  And Jack felt a power like no other run up his spine.

The person who stepped out of the “Warp” was the last person Jack had ever expected to see.  Time Keeper.  Time Keeper was standing in front of Jack but he looked completely different.  Time Keeper’s hair was a lot longer, nearly shoulder length, and several scars littered across his face and chest.  Gone was Time Keeper’s trademark colorful hoodie, replaced by a dark Steampunk coat and shirt with Time Keeper’s trademark swirl.  Time Keeper’s goggles were also different, purple and teal lenses, high tech too.  But what caught Jack off guard was that one of the Time Keeper’s hands was a mechanical hand.

“Time Keeper?”  Jack asked barely above a whisper.

“Boreas,” Time Keeper greeted with a nod.  “Oh, wait, you don’t go by that right now.  You go by?  Frostbite right?”

“I - I don’t know what you’re talking about Time Keeper,” Jack said, perplexed that a Hero knew his Villain Identity.

“I don’t have a lot of time, Boreas, but I need your help,” Time Keeper said with authority.  Time Keeper then handed Jack/Boreas a small journal.  “The future, the one I just came from, is bleak.  Save him!  Save the Healer!  The future you went to warn my past self since I can’t do that.  Hopefully, the both of you will prevent L’Manburg from being a Crater.”

“What happened?”

“The Healer died, and the Syndicate went mad with grief of losing their family member.  Help him!  Help my past self save the Healer as I couldn’t in the future.  Maybe now, with the Time Rift, we change that.”  Time Keeper said.

“Wait!  Time Keeper!  Save who?!”  Jack demanded.  And then he went after Time Keeper who stepped back into the Warp again.  “Time Keeper!”  Jack shouted and rushed through the double doors.  Finding himself in a hallway full of guests looking at him.

Jack ignored them and tried to find Time Keeper but he was nowhere to be found.  Jack then looked down at the journal that Time Keeper gave him and opened it.  He froze upon seeing the picture that was in the journal.  Oh no! No, no, no, no!  Not the kid!  The kid’s the Healer that they’re supposed to save.  Jack didn’t realize that his hands were shaking and he never heard Casey calling his name several times trying to get his attention.

Jack slammed the book shut, shoved it in his pocket, whipped out his phone called the first person he could think of, and ran towards his room.

“Phil!  Emergency Meeting!  Tonight!  ASAP!”

*****

@febuwhump, @weirdmixofweirdness, @a-humble-narcissus, @m4delin, @dezzydynamite, @isa-ghost, @ashedflower, @fangirltothefullest, @juju-on-that-yeet

[thenewgirl76]

Ever since Technus acted on his feelings of mischievousness all of Casper High, the A-listers and faculty included have been giving Tucker a wide berth. No one, not even Danny and Sam has ever seen him on the warpath like this and quite frankly it scares them.

Tucker on the other hand doesn't understand why everyone's acting so apprehensive around him. It's not like threatening to erase a ghost from existence is anything new. The Fentons and Valerie do it all the time.

But whatever. None of this is of any importance to him. The only things that matter right now is getting past Titans East tower's security and deleting those love letters before they're opened and read, then keeping his promise to take Technus' afterlife for daring to expose his most embarrassing secret.

Unfortunately, he's too late in completing the first objective. Not only is every last one of those emails now marked as read, the object of his affections is in the process of typing out a response.

Okay. This is fine. This is perfectly fine. He can easily fix this by living out the rest of his life off the grid. But first, he has a technology obsessed ghost to end.

Meanwhile in Steel City

It was a lot to wade through, but Bumblebee managed to get through all her not so secret admirer's love letters. Though rather cringeworthy, especially that attached audio with that horrific excuse of a singing voice, it was all strangely charming and kinda sweet as well. Bumblebee is honestly touched. So much to the point that she'd like to meet this Tucker Foley and get to know him better. She's already sent forth a reply requesting a time and place.

[mrmeepsmadmind]

his horns (finials) (idk)(ears)(whatever) shaking... the jumping ??? the struggling 😭 the off center twitching ..he is PISSED. AWF !!!!!!

[rainystressed247]

One said that Dream is very different when Techno is around. I guess that is true to some extent >.<

[that-sweet-jester]

Hey! Just discovered your blog through your dsmp sbi villain au and I LOVED IT

Do you plan on continuing it? Are you still in the fandom/interested? Did you have other stuff planned out?

Please don't feel pressured to answer any of these, I just really liked the au😅. If you want to though, this is a way for you to ramble about it 👀

Your art style is amazing! Have a great day:]

To be honest, I drifted away from the general mcyt fandom, so sadly I don't feel that inspired as I once was😔

I do however sometimes doodle Techno and Phil for the au. So, I might post something in the future, if I finish them :")

for example here's a wip I started like.. few months ago:

[cata-strophes]

sorry im not drawing much but much but here, i did this months ago for an event :) (it was supposed to have an angel duo prequel but i never did it sorry 🧍‍♂️)

[rocksibblingsau]

You once said that you're always down for some Brynth (very based) so.... Brynth dynamics for all the different AUs? (or just the main ones, you/we have a lot of AUs its kinda insane)

Rock Branch - Can't say

Techno Branch - First friend turned first crush turned first love. Synth taught Branch how to love music, which also is how Branch learned to love Synth

Country Branch - They met at Trollstopia and he was Synth's Cinderella. Showed up for a party, left suddenly, leaving his cowboy hat behind with Synth. Synth went on a quest to find the owner of the hat because he was too stupid to realize Branch was the only country troll with two legs.

Funk Branch - I kinda like to think they met at the Rockpocalypse. Left with the Troll equivalent of his number on a piece of paper and Prince D teased him about it relentlessly.

Classical Branch - Branch came to Trollstopia to do a concert and met with all of the ambassadors. Synth is known to get along with Classical Trolls really well so he wanted to get to know Branch as well. Branch went 'Who is this troll who pulls me in like a siren in the night?' and Minuet squealed while Dante begged him to reconsider.

BONUS

Amnesiac Villain - They both fall in love pretty quickly while Branch doesn't have his memories. Once he finds out about himself and that the leaders were lying he goes to find Synth and ask if any of it was real. Once finding out it was, he tries to break it off with Synth to protect him from himself but Synth won't let him. Synth insists that he'll love him even if he gains his memories back and changes, and he'll try to save Branch from himself.

[goshadie]

This is a mini comic for my work on ao3 (you can read here)

This is the first part of the comic, the second will be coming soon.

Short story: Mumza is the number one hero in Manburg, Syndicate are villains fighting for the people's freedom from politicians and the Hero's Tower, and Chayanne and Tallulah are Kristin's adopted children.

[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.

[x-i-l-verify]

Title: After All, This Is Who We Are Fandom: Dream SMP Rating: Teen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Characters: Dream, BadBoyHalo, Skeppy, Technoblade, Philza, ItsAlyssa, Awesamdude, Dream SMP Ensemble Status: complete Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dehumanization, Fantasy Racism, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Hugs, Headcanons, Worldbuilding

Summary:

In a timeline where Players are not whitelisted to the Dream SMP until they reach the age of majority, there is no drug van, no L'Manberg, no Doomsday, no Disc Finale, and no Pandora's Vault. However, in the aftermath of Sapnap's latest bout of trouble-making, the Egg awakens and establishes its empire, and despite the server's admin debugging the virus down to bedrock, the Dream SMP now has a brand-new public enemy number one. (or: Due to one simple rule change at the Dream SMP's creation, BadBoyHalo is now the reviled and distrusted villain of the server instead of Dream.)

link to fic

link to my BigBang partner's art

I wrote a thing for the @dreblr-gen-big-bang! Took me 3 and a half months but I did it. ;v;d Pls go check it out if it sounds cool to you.

[knight-arts]

Happy New Year!

Here’s something I almost completely forgot about (pt 1 because there is one more mcyt au I forgot about)

Superheroes/superpowers au with rivals duo being journalists with 0 sense of self-preservation (which distresses the heroes quite a bit)

[I might have posted about this before but I don’t remember ;-;]

[lildevyl]

FebyWhump Day 6: Secrets Revealed

DSMP Mafia AU

Summary:  After his interesting encounter with the young blond, Wilbur decides to do a little digging on the young Tommy Innit.

Mafia/Superpower AU.  Inspired by Fate of Mortality by SPooKZSTARZ and 12AM? No, Never W1sh111

TW: Mention of Violence, Minor Character Death, Character Death, Mafia AU, Crime, Mentions of Murder, Mafia like Violence Mentioned,

It was strange.  Normally someone who was in the Severing Industry never acted or talked like that to someone like Wilbur and his family.  And yet the kid acted like he didn’t know who they were, which was weird considering their family business and who the kid’s boss was.  Clementine was the manager of the Wait Staff of the Casino and  her nephew, Tommy was a waiter.  And yet it appeared that Clementine tried to keep her nephew in the dark about who Wilbur and his brother and father are.

But what was it about the kid?  He was bold, brash, loud, annoying at first and didn’t seem like he had a filter.  And yet he was not so afraid of talking to a lot of the people that did nothing but shady businesses.  The kid, Tommy even laughed and said how dumb their plan was to try and get any intel.  Truth be told Wilbur kinda forgot the kid was even there when he was talking to his father Phil on what to do next.  Tommy scuffed and said, “If you really want to know how to get the true dirt on someone. Then go undercover as a staff member.”

They all looked at each other with raised eyebrows.  “Seriously?”  Tommy asked.  “How many times have you ever noticed any of your staff members when they’re coming and going?  How many of the maids know your combination locks to the safes?  Your passwords to your computers?  The code to the alarms?  When you're talking business on the phone do you stop talking when a staff member comes and starts cleaning or delivers a message?  How many times have you even noticed any of the wait staff until now?”

Silence.

“My point exactly!”  Tommy said.  “So, let’s do an experiment then.  You’re Siren right?”  Wilbur nodded.  “Okay, then let's get you dressed up a staff member and see how much dirt you manage to find out about your clients”

“And if I don’t?”  Wilbur challenged.

“Then I’ll be your personal waiter every time you stop by then,” Tommy offered.

They shook on it and Wilbur got ready for his first undercover job as a waiter.  Tommy even took one of the name tags off of the board and put on Wilbur, reading Henry.  And boy was Tommy right!  He found out so much info it wasn’t even funny!  Although Wilbur did feel bad for that one girl Sally.  Her Mom was trying to marry her off to anyone rich to keep living the lifestyle since her business was starting to go under.  When Wilbur got back to his family and gave his report, he couldn’t help but be intrigued by the blond.

There’s something about Tommy but what?  Wilbur knows that he’s seen that kid before but for the life of him.  He honestly just can’t put his finger on it.  Wait  .   .   .   Didn’t Clementine have a brother?  What was his name again?  The sound of the keyboard clicking away was heard from Wilbur’s Office.  After about an hour of searching, Wilbur found what he was looking for.  Clementine’s brother Timith Actias.  Wife Clara Actias and son Thomathy Actias.  The family they had gotten rid of years ago.  The Actias decided that they didn’t need to pay back the money they were owed and ghosted Wilbur’s father, Phil for months at a time.  To be fair they give the family plenty of time to pay it all back.  But just decided to ignore paying their debt until they came knocking.

Wilbur was staring at his computer screen with three death certificates of the Actias family.  Wilbur wasn’t sure what he was going to find.  Clara and Timothy were both murdered, Wilbur knew that since he committed the murder himself.  And their son Thomathy died by drowning.  A swimming accident that happened at the pound near their backyard.  All of it matched up.  But the more Wilbur stared at the screen the more he realized that there was something off about one of the death certificates.  He just couldn’t figure out what though.  The name, date of birth, date of death, the cause of death.  It all seemed to line - wait was it just him or did it look like the date of death was a little out of line?  It was supposed to line up with Date of Birth and yet it’s slightly off center.  At a first glance you wouldn’t see, not if you didn’t know what to look for.

Wilbur typed the serial number on the bottom of the death certificate into the search bar on the website he was using to look at the digital copies of the death certificates.  The name popped up was the same Thomathy Theseus Actias but the dates didn’t match at all.

Date of Birth:  April 30th 1880

Date of Death:  October 31st 1975

So, someone faked Tommy’s death certificate.  And but the looks of it, Tommy was named after his Great Grandfather.  Oh this was gold!  The assets of the Actias estate couldn’t be touched until after the kid turned 25.  If Tommy never claims them before he turns 25 or after he turns 25, then on midnight of January first the entire estate and assets go into public domain for buying, selling, and auctioning.  Well, now, Wilbur always wanted a little brother and this will surely pay the Actias debt and then some without having to deal with greedy money shark lawyers and investors.

Now, the question is, how was Wilbur going to convince his father and brother?

****

Tagging: @weirdmixofweirdness, @tracobuttons, @a-humble-narcissus, @isa-ghost, @febuwhump

[bleue-flora]

C!wilbur is the only dsmp character I am no an apologist for. Like, damn, he was just open about being a dick.

I still love his character though, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t see a reason to be apologist for him. He was very open about his desires and ambitions and how little he cared about others. He got that boosted charisma and the temper of a toddler.

It’s not like c!dream, c!quackity, c!sam, or even c!tommy. They believed they were right and justified in their actions. I never got that impression from c!wilbur. Man just wanted attention.

(the only one? lol jk XD)

Yea… lets be honest the guy probably has Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPDor aka a sociopath) and I think you’re right I don’t think Wilbur was ever convoluted enough to think what he said or was doing was in the right. Though maybe you could make an argument against that - saying he’s a man of the people - but I don’t really think that’s true. While think about it, it’s interesting he’s almost the opposite of some of the other characters. He doesn’t seem to think his intentions are good, but is able to make other people think that they are. Versus characters like Sam who thinks he’s doing the right thing, but other people do not. In other way overly simple terms, on the outside, early on, Wilbur appears like a “good guy” but his motives are bad, versus Sam who looks like a “bad guy” but his motives are good. If that makes sense. Then you have Quackity and Tommy, who early on appear like “good guys”, but who’s motives are the same bad ones, but they are convinced they are good. Then there’s Dream and Techno who look like “bad guys” but their motives are good, though the difference between them and Sam is that they don’t believe they are good guys even though the have good motives. Sam and Tommy believe they are good guys regardless of how people see them or their motives and that is one way they differ from Quackity, Wilbur, Dream and Techno - they all have their reasons, they are do whatever it takes for their reasons but I don’t think they truly think they are the “good guys” in the story. Again very poorly worded but hopefully it kinda makes sense… just some random thoughts as I’m thinking about it now. But anyways, Wilbur really is a pretty bad person, but I do have to respect that it seems to me like he at least is aware enough to recognize reality. His recognition that Tommy and him in the Pogtopia days are the ones who are the “bad guys” trying to overthrow a democratically elected president. Schlatt was elected he is in the initial right, and I appreciate that at least Wilbur is smart enough to realize that. He doesn’t seem to be so deluded, even if he helps feed the delusion.

[technovillain]

Username lore?

I was in the obscure blorbo trenches when I made this blog. I was gonna post abt him here but he was so obscure and I was way too invested for some reason that I was too embarrassed to ever actually post about it into an empty tumblr tag lmaoooo....

points at the sign. avert your eyes from the shitty action figure (which is of a character so obscure that somehow it loops back around to being *extremely* expensive. even tho the collectors don't give a hoot about this character. life isn't fair) and look instead at the commemorative fake gold coin, "Tig Fromm, TECHNO-VILLAIN"

Thought "techno villain" sounded rad as hell. Checked and couldn't believe nobody had taken that username yet purely bcuz it sounded cool and took it. Dropped the dash in the center bcuz usernames with dashes in them are for chumps /lh

actually fuck it have some of my old art for droids 1985.

[mariocki]

Black Moon Rising (1986)

"Mr. Quint and I go back a ways. We used to be... what, in competition?"

"I never considered you competition, Marvin."

"Aw, that's not nice, Quint. We had our moments."

"You must've had yours in private."

[rocksibblingsau]

ASGHLGFS

Imagine if all the Branches got swapped with Amnesic Villain Branch. The tribe leaders would assume the strings split Branch into different versions of himself, one Branch for each genre, minus Pop (unless we're including Canon Branch).

They'd likely assume that's what the strings do and that the Pop String is needed to fuse them back together.

They're trying to get a straight answer but Rock Branch is teaching Techno Branch how to mosh, Classical Branch and Country Branch are gossiping and Funk Branch is split between jumping in on either activity.