❦𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐯𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫❦【 DreamSMP // Technoblade 】

❦Forty Three❦

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"Every good story, needs a villain. And I'm willing to take that role with outstretched arms."
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Part of me has always wanted to run. The backpack at the doorway always seeming so tempting. I always felt as if I was tainting the others around me. I was imperfect, a demon hybrid, someone with a murder count possibly in the thousands. Someone who is fabled in stories, someone who surely keeps children up at night.

I ruin things, I ruin the holy, and looking at Technoblade, looking at Eret. I know I can ruin them easily, simply being around them must taint their souls. I ruin things, that's what I do, the black seeping up my fingertips constantly having to be kept at bay shows it. The way voices scream and take over my body is living proof I'm truly just a monster.

Black fog can choke my lungs and make me wake up at night, but that won't change the temptation of leaving and fading into oblivion. I'm a horrid person I know, I can tell myself all I want that I'm loved and I deserve it. I can lie and say I'm worthy of love, but the truth is I'm not.

It can't be healthy, it can't be good for my friends to have my name on their backs. To be carrying the weight that they even know me.

If I was a good person I'd spare them, I'd leave with that backpack always packed. And I'd let them live without my baggage. My name isn't something to be taken lightly, I know I chose this path to be a Grim Reaper, and I carry that with me.

So if I had a shred of decency I would simply go.

But I'm greedy.

Maybe I'm horrid, maybe it's wrong to drag their names down with mine. To make a God have his name weighed by mine, to have a King at my side.

But I can't help it. I can't help that I want to keep Niki protected and safe. I can't help that Tommy seems to run to me after every mishap with Wilbur. I can't stop Eret from wanting to praise and comfort me at every stumble I take. And I can't stop Tech from teaching me every last thing he knows with a smile.

Maybe one day they'll notice that I'm no good, that I'm better off alone without bringing them down with me. But until that day comes, I think I'll just relish in the joy of their presence. Maybe one day they will cut me off, live without the Grim Reaper, that would probably be smartest.

And the worst part is I'd let them. I'd let myself live without the light I've grown to adore. Like a moth to flame I've come close enough to shrivel and burn. And I'm okay with that. I've come to the terms that I'm loved somehow.

Maybe I'm truly unloveable, but that doesn't change the fact that I still have these people.

I have friends much to my surprise, I have people to care, who ask me on picnics. Who apologize until they are shaking after wronging me.

And I can't help but enjoy it.

I don't know what's changed with me, before I wouldn't have cared for people close to me. It's like a part of me has come back to life again. A part of me that craves this affection and attention after years of deprivation.

A part of me that lets Tommy curl up against me in-front of the fire after I returned from a picnic and woke up late at night. And a part of me that lets that backpack sit at the door, left to be alone. Because I don't think I'd be running away anytime soon.

"Why'd you leave us?" I was completely zoned out, stuck in a spiral of these thoughts until the blond spoke up. Tubbo had already fallen asleep, in-fact everybody had fallen asleep.

I woke up per usual around three am, and I found the blond alone in front of the campfire. He didn't question it and just offered me a seat, now laying his head on my shoulder.