𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲【𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐦𝐩 𝐖𝐚𝐫】

♛103♛

tw/cw: mentions of of gods/religion tied topics, cursing, mentions of addiction

I'm very serious about this guys, if any of this, even a tiny bit, makes you feel the slightest bit weird, uncomfortable, anything. Stop reading. Don't read the chapters with these warnings. I do in fact give them for a reason, and I'd hate for any of you to experience anything negative because I didn't provide good enough warnings. ♛

For the sake of my own personal enjoyment, the next 4-5 chapters will be completely off canonical story, purely from me. It 100% breaks off canon, I won't even lie.

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It had been nearly three months since I had 'died' and somehow, the escape from my normal life seemed to be worse. Foolish had constantly updated me on whatever had happened with Tubbo and Ranboo, as far as he knew at least. For some odd reason my kid was experimenting with nuclear weapons, and bombs, and all things out of the ordinary which had forced him to quarantine before seeing his own family. From Quackity, I heard about Technoblade.

I was still bitter, at the lost of my loved one, the fact that he had just left me, but oddly enough time away from him had made me realize that I'm not an extension of him, and that I am my own person. Even without that knowledge I missed him more than I could put into words. The casino owner had smuggled his red cape, identical to mine, back to me, and that only rubbed salt into the wound.

I had taken the time to myself, to heal and soothe the wounds of my mental and physical form. Repair the parts of me that had broken themselves, either under the pressure of others, or my own boundaries. XD had left. It was something I didn't quite see coming, but the previous week, he had just left. It's a funny feeling to finally understand that you're truly alone. Technoblade had written me letters, detailed descriptions of apologies, there were no explanations, but he constantly assured that it wasn't because I was weak. That I wasn't capable of handling what he was doing. That it was something that he needed to do by himself, something he wanted to do. He, and I assume Dream, were the only people who knew of my whereabouts, outside of Quackity, Foolish, Fundy and Charlie. I assumed Purpled had gotten the hint as well.

From Fundy, I had heard of my official 'burial' grounds, even if I was still living and breathing. The fact that they put enough thought to make one for me was enough. The fox had promised to take me to it, and I suppose that was where we were going now, in the dead of night. A hand hooked around my own, leading me through the thickening wood, crickets and bugs buzzing around, creating ambience in the almost peaceful environment. 

Near the pond, where Phil had taken my ghost, was a light tinted stone, gladioli, chrysanthemums, and hyacinths, all of various colors resting and planted among the stone tablet. Grey candles sat on silver plates, the wax spilling down whilst the fire burned down the wick, smoke trailing from the glow of the embers. I felt my throat tighten, a squeeze around my hand, before it slipped out, the footsteps of a friend shifting away while I stared. My eyes were kept on the stones, the obvious indents in the grass where people had sat, notes held down by heavy rocks, pinned to the ground around the grave.

I sniffle, choking back tears as I just stared, It felt like I was watching something play out, not actually experiencing it. My heart hurt, hammering in my chest, my ears were pounding, it was too much. Everything was too much. I longed for it to stop. I felt a hand reach up onto my shoulder.

"How's being dead?" I felt my own newly built walls crash. My knees hit the grass, my body folding in on itself, arms wrapped around my mid section.

I held back the quiet desperation to laugh. I thought about longing. How it was just another measure of sadness. Longing went far beyond sadness though, far beyond any emotion. And often, it was hard to put into words. Silent arms wrapped around my own, comforting hands trying to grasp the edges of my soul.