Double Hearted (DDVAU) Masterpost

Okay, but what if none of the Sides exist except Roman? What if Thomas isn’t even real? What if they’re all just figments of the prince’s imagination, created as a desperate attempt to save himself from whatever hurt has been clawing its way inside of him? The boy is just trying to preserve his sanity. He wants to escape. What if he’s actual royalty in some other world- some place where people like him have the power to turn blank space into life?

What if, during the Christmas video, when Roman said he had a lot going on, it wasn’t in relation to his job as Thomas’ creativity. What if that was him projecting his frustrations onto the fake friends that he produced with his mind? What if he’s actually a homosexual prince whose identity is being stifled? What if his parents are forcing him to take a bride so he can continue their royal bloodline?

Think about it.

i okay

my excitement as died down a little

i think im okay now lol

the tragedy of !badboyhalo, (why his nature is good, not evil)

Okay I'm going to rant abt !bbh (tr!bad and q!bad) cuz i have so many thoughts. normally I put them on twitter but that's too short of a wordcount LOL (based on the little short animatic I did on the "what do you want to be when you grow up?" "kind" audio)

So, beginning with a recap of lore relevant to my post in case some people don't know, starting with bad's home being heaven. We know he was there for a time unquantifiable by human standards, as he was "outside of time" before being booted from heaven onto earth. We also know from recent lore that bad's job has something to do with destruction, killing and possibly bringing about the end of the world. He started this when he made all the dinosaurs extinct, but apparently, he was too early, and heaven(?) locked him away under the Euphrates River in a void-like pit for about a thousand years. Then bad either escaped or was let free, and has roamed the earth for roughly 15,000 years until now, where it seems that his role of destruction is finally ready to be played. Or at least, that's why he's building the cathedral, to get a message from heaven to see if its time to proceed. We also know his kids are waiting for him in heaven, and he probably can't return to them until he completes this mission.

NOW. onto my headcanons and theories. I like to think that bad wasn't always meant for this role, or there was a period of time where he was unaware he'd have to do this. Then, either as a punishment for something he did, or simply because heaven unluckily chose him, bad was turned into an angel of death/fallen angel/angel of the apocalypse. (hence my design changes of him looking like a basic angel and then changing)

I find this so interesting because, despite the selfishness, talk of killing and being insane, and this being his default nature, I disagree completely. His nature isn't to kill, or at least it wasn't something he chose himself. I think that was a result of when he was given his mission and over the period of time under the Euphrates and his 15,000 years of losing people he loves over and over and over and over. Because that sort of thing ruins even the best people, and the fact that bad still has some good in him even after all of this shows just how much "evil" ISN'T his true nature. If it were, then he wouldn't still make attachments, he wouldn't get sad when people die, he wouldn't drink himself into oblivion to cope with the pain of losing people.

If killing were his true nature, he wouldn't care what happens to people around him. But he DOES. Even after everything that's happened to him, he still cares, and that is heartbreakingly beautiful. He knows and says all the time how every mortal he cares about will die, maybe even by his own hand, but he loves anyway. He just can't help it.

His job, his purpose that is forced on him, is to kill and destroy, but deep down, he doesn't even seem to really want to!! Sure, he likes chaos, or the occasional kill, but only when it's not permanent. He doesn't find joy in taking life permanently. You can even look at the pranks he does; he never is truly destructive, only wanting to cause chaos in a way that won't genuinely hurt the other person.

He would never admit it either, to everyone else, he keeps up the perception of someone who kills for fun and doesn't give a shit about any living creature other than himself. Tr!water is right about the way bad lies, because when he says those things, he's lying to himself as well. Trying to convince himself that he doesn't care and he's not like that, because what the hell is he supposed to do? How could he physically cope with the fact that he's always going to love people and he's going to lose them every single time for all of eternity? That's the kind of thing he'll only admit when he's five bottles deep in Mike's lemonade.

That is the tragedy of !badboyhalo. If he were inately evil, his life would be a whole lot easier, wouldn't it? But he isn't, and he's going to keep loving and caring forever because if he hasn't lost that part of him yet, I don't think he ever will, and that is the most upsetting part of his character to me. Born to care, but created to destroy.

Something about almost everyone on the realm treating tr!badboyhalo like he’s a resource to be fought over and weighed and bartered for and bought. It always ends up like this.

Okay another one done! I’m making slow progress, but it’s progress

okay, im gonna force myself to finish my science project thats due tomorrow

ill reblog this a couple of times to make updates to try and encourage myself :P

I’ve got the majority left to do, but it should be too bad… i hope

hey i had an idea for a sanders sides ask game, so maybe one of my *checks notes* 25 followers can send an ask for this!;

send me the link/name of a song and ill make a story in my head for it (sanders sides themed) and let you know what it turns out to be! i make stories in my head based off of songs excessively, so this won’t be too hard :P

i don't take constructive criticism

once more, with feeling

876 words

it's not exactly the same every time. it's altered by what they went through, and why they’re asking, and how it all ended. but it's always close enough that it may as well be the same. 

100% inspired by this incredible post by @thirdtimed! it had me by a chokehold i had to do something about it

it's not exactly the same every time. it's altered by what they went through, and why they’re asking, and how it all ended. but it's always close enough that it may as well be the same. 

the first time, it was unprecedented. 

blood on his hands, tears in his eyes, we expected it to be over—a failed experiment, one that only he would ever remember to save the others the pain. too much grief wracked his body for him to even choke out the words for a long while, but we waited. it isn't an unusual thing for us to do, to wait.

smearing sand on his sunburned face, he wiped away his tears and said,

"give me another chance."

the second time, we were curious.

shaken and silent, he stared into our face for a long while, as if trying to decipher what in void we were. the crown of crystals were still and a kind of grey that isn’t truly grey, but every colour at once, and his breathing was shallow. the bloodlust drained from his eyes, leaving them as grey as the crown.

we asked, because he would not have thought to answer otherwise. he flinched, and hesitated. 

"i.. can i see them again?"

the third time, it was almost expected.

still smoking from the explosion, she sunk to her knees, sobbing and clutching herself as if she feared literally falling apart. it took a long while for her screams of grief subsided, and longer still for the weeping to fade into sniffing and hiccups. she hadn't looked at us once, as if she didn't know we were there, but we did not wish to interrupt—she was entitled to her unraveling in private.

wiping her eyes, she didn’t bother to compose herself much more. she lifted her face, littered with gashes and scars, and with agony in her voice-

"i want my friends."

the fourth time.. well, it was a little surprising.

a victor had not yet arrived so high on adrenaline and confidence, and the blood that stained even his mouth seemed to be a trophy. the sword had not left his hand, and still dripped with what remained of the last two, the drops vanishing into the abyss below. he was grinning, and this was the most surprising part.

not needing any persuasion or suggestion, he looked us right in the eye—as none had done before, crowing,

"come on, give us another go!"

the fifth time, it wasn't the request that was new.

alone in a field of sunflowers is where we eventually found him, after waiting fruitlessly for his arrival. he startled a little as he realised we were there, but soon calmed at the understanding of what we meant for him. after all, it had been almost a year since he became stranded—and stranded was the word for it. the shawl was still the red and purple of the flowers he had once given to his partner, and we suppose one could say they started this whole chain of events.

setting aside his gardening tools, he smiled almost sadly. perhaps he would miss what had become his prison, despite everything it signified. he sighed,

"i think i’d like a better try at companionship."

the sixth time.. it almost didn’t count.

surprised to have even been considered for a crown, they laughed in delight when the paper version settled on her head, clearly pleased with our creative flair. we were pleased as well—it isn’t often creative flair ends up being a positive part of our abilities.  they looked around, as if deciding whether or not the place was real, and seemingly settled on an answer. we didn’t ask what the answer was. 

adjusting the paper crown, she laughed, clearly finding the whole situation amusing. when we asked, they seemed to be even more surprised.

"i get to choose? well- let's do it again!"

the seventh time, it became amusing. they did know they could choose something else, did they not?

whooping and throwing his arms around in celebration, came the second victor to be genuinely pleased by his victory and subsequent death. he spent a considerable amount of time pretending he was at an awards show, thanking his family, his wife, his best friend and so on. it was refreshing, after all that misery we witnessed at the beginning of the games, to see the tides changing. especially with him; rage used to be his fuel. now it seemed to be love.

grinning up at us, he waited for something. perhaps one of the others had mentioned it, but he did not seem surprised when we asked.

"what do i want? of course i want more!"

the eighth time, we don’t have to even introduce ourselves.

considerably more pleased than he had been the first time, he seems to think that taking his own life was the ultimate show of power against us. of course, we have changed our ways since his game, but he is not to know that. like his predecessor, he too seems amused by the paper crown. 

cracking his knuckles, and stretching his neck, we already know what he’s going to say, but we let him ask it.

"one more time."

Dear friends of Tumblr,

Today at my school we had an assembly about internet predators and when I had said that most of my true friends are over the internet and they gave me a lecture about how “I don’t know who I’m talking to” blah blah. So please, if you aren’t a predator in any way, please reblog so i can prove a point.

pray for me, im going to eat an excessive amount of cake

It’s my birthday!!!! :D