#Karl just “BLINK MOTHERFUCKER”
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I got another new bab from NaldThal on toyhouse and I love him SO MUCH
His name is Flick
He's my cracked out little gremlin child with rabid chihuahua energy and I absolutely adore him uwu
//Thal makes amazing designs and usually I try not to horde them all (also partially due to money-), but I genuinely could not go without him.
He's so dumb.
I don't think he'll be fully be one of my Resident Evil OCs, but you can bet your ass I'm eventually drawing him with Emelia and Karl.
I can tell you right now that he freaks Karl out and it's great.//
#funky little dude#just a scrunkly little meat guy#he just screams#I love him so much#he is the reason Karl keeps the lights on when sleeping#Karl just “BLINK MOTHERFUCKER”#*blinks one slow eye at a time*#or goes the gecko thing#just licks an eyeball#completely unhinged#“EMELIA GET YOUR FUCKING CREATURE AWAY FROM ME”#“It's not hurting anything”#“ITS CREEPY AS SHIT NOW COME GET IT”#oc#monster#monster oc#creature#creature oc#lovelywingsocs#lovelywingsart
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I have nothing to post really so take some dumbass memes i do have an insta @moldyboi67 so join me and see some of my art if you want 💖
Ethan: *messaging* 'hey just to let you know i'm not gay'
Chris: 'this is literally grindr'
Ethan: 'i guess people who are lactose intolerant can't go down the fucking dairy aisle i'm just looking-'
Fandom: i'm gonna hug you!
Heisenberg: i will literally kill you
Ethan: i'm going to kill you.
Heisenberg: 🥵 please do~
Ethan: *sneers with bloodied teeth and with a dirty blood smeared face literally smelling like a sewer and with limbs hanging on by a thread
Heisenberg: i want that one.
Donna: ethan.. will you.. be my brother in law..? *pulls out a ring getting on one knee*
Ethan: ...!
Heisenberg: did you just propose for me!?
Donna: someone had to do it
Ethan: !?
Ethan: we call them indicators as it indicates where we are going
Heisenberg: we call them blinkers because they go blink blink-
Ethan: you know i have no idea what i'm doing 90% of the time..
Chris: if you can't blow them with your brilliance baffle them with your bullshit.
Moreau: one in four people are gay!
Alcina: that means someone in here is gay
Heisenberg: i hope its Ethan he's cute
Alcina: ...
Moreau: ....
Donna: ....
Ethan: ......
Ethan: i swing both ways...
Ethan: with a bat come at me motherfuckers!
Mia: if you were a drink what drink would you be? I'd be lime soda
Chris: bleach
Ethan: sewage
Mia: alright calm down edge lords
Ethan: FOUR MONTHS
Mia: whats he going on about?
Heisenberg: don't worry about it
Ethan: FOR FOUR MONTHS YOU WATCHED ME WATER A FAKE PLANT!
Ethan: once you've hit rock bottom the only place to go is up! Right?
Capcom: haha jokes on you i brought your pickaxe and your going to dig.
Ethan: karl truth or dare
Heisenberg: truth
Ethan: how many hours sleep have you had?
Heisenberg knowing he stayed up all night on a project: dare
Ethan: i dare you to go to sleep
Heisenberg not sleeping till its done: i don't like this game
#resident evil village#karl heisenberg#resident evil#ethan winters#shitpost#wintersberg#heisenwinters#donna beneviento#lady alcina dimitrescu#salvatore moreau#mia winters#chris redfield
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GEORGENOTFOUND X READER
Context: In a perfect world where cc! DreamTeam and reader live together. Quackity, Karl, Punz and others don’t live too far away. GeorgeNotFound x content creator!reader ~ angst mostly. Slight fluff. Friends to lovers?
Honestly inspired by the show Euphoria. My first DSMP fic/imagine. Feed back appreciated.!!
Warnings: cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety and substance abuse
Please do not read if you are not comfortable with these topics. You are never alone. Please reach out to anyone, myself included. There are resources to help.
~~~~~~Reader POV~~~~~~
Being a streamer has been really draining lately. There’s not been too many new games to play. The same old ones have not been too fun to play as I’ve spent the past few years playing them ,but being with friends and chat is always worth it.
Today I streamed for about 5 hours before tapping out. My brain got tired and slow. Maybe all I need is to rest?
Resting on my bed, with the door open, I have the urge to want to simultaneously curl into a ball under my sheets and feel like I wanna jump out the window.
Laying here, I play some background noise. I’m not even sure what it is. It just something to stop me from being alone with my thoughts. Anytime I let myself think more than five minutes my anxiety spikes. I guess why I like streaming there’s always someone there. At all time, anywhere. But even now that feels like too much.
I think the boys are busy. I’m not sure. The longer I lay here the less motivation I feel.
Now I’m not as big as the DreamTeam . I really only became part of the group way later than everyone else. Meeting Dream and the connections I’ve made have been something I would never have imagined. But the moment we clicked online, I knew we were something special. Not too long after that everyone was moving towards each-other, I joined in too. I get loads of hate for seemingly clinging onto the boys clout,but no one would understand that I would kill for these guys. They are my family now and that’s something the internet can’t take away from me.
Now from the viewer point of view. It can really seem like I’m the odd one out. That I don’t deserve this opportunity and I’m not as talented as thousands of others online. And trust me, I understand that. In times like these more than ever. I just feel really low.
Turning my head to my side, looking at my night stand. There is someone or thing that has always been great during times like these. Their name is OXI. Now I don’t think I have a drug problem. It’s just that often times where I’m feeling low, these friends have really lifted me. Yeah I’ve got it under control. More importantly its very low key and I’m 80% sure no one knows. I say because I’m sure Dream and Sap don’t but one very observant Gogy………walks into my room right after I slip two pills into my mouth.
“Hey, how’s it going” smooth British motherfucker.
I try to close my night side table smoothly but quick enough that he doesn’t see exactly what it is.
“Hey gogs, um just ended stream and got a headache so just took some Tylenol”
I’m trying my best to act normal but as the pills start to work, and the numbness begins I can’t help but to overthink that he will know. But he won’t. Please don’t.
“Yeah I was watching a bit actually. Great stream from what I saw.” He scratches the back of his neck, making eye contact with my night side table then me.
I smile slightly, sitting up in my bed now.
“You got any plans to stream?”
The pills feel great now. Exactly the way I need to be. Except the overwhelming guilt and fear and paranoia and everything else…
“Not exactly, I never really plan to…like have plan, ya know”
A small smile takes my face now, I’m ready to lay down, listen to music and maybe just maybe…
“You alright?“ George asks.
I blink back into it. I guess I spaced out for too long.
“No yeah no. Of course, sorry was just thinking about something. I….Um…yeah sorry”
“Don’t apologize, you haven’t done anything wrong have you?”
“Yeah your right, any plans for right now gogs?”
I smile as I lay back down. Heavy eyes,slow my blink down, comfort taking over me. He smiles slightly back.
“No plans. Might get some food. Are you hungry?” He pulls out his phone. I assume to pull up Ubereats or something.
“I can eat.”
The overwhelming urge to need more comfort comes suddenly. I need someone.
“Gogy?” I ask. Extending my hand from my bed towards him standing in the doorway.
“Yess” He extends the s, still looking down at his phone.
“Can you come lay with me just for a minute?”
I feel like I can cry, like the numbness is taking over, the thinking won’t stop. I asked one question but I feel like I’m pleading him. He looks up and puts his phone on my table. I guess he sees the desperation in my eyes because George is not a physical person. He doesn’t like to cuddle, or even hug longer than necessary, but I think he knows.
“Um I’m not really…I guess just for a little bit”
“Thank you” I say very quietly. Almost embarrassed.
He shuffles slowly towards me. I move over in the bed making room for him to lay directly on my left. I’m staring at the ceiling, glancing at him trying to get comfortable on my bed. We’ve never really cuddled unless you count those times Sapnap just smushes all of us together on the couch as “roommate bonding time”. But I think he knows that I need him right now. We move in a way that feels really nice for me. George is so small usually I would consider him the small spoon, but I choose this time to lay my head on his chest and almost wrap my arm around him.
“This is nice. Thanks.”
I say with a frown. I really feel like I can cry right now. Like if I let one tear out, the dam will definitely burst. I feel like he tilts his head down to try to catch a glimpse at my face. I just bury my face into his chest. He rests his chin on my head. He sighs.
“Can you stay just a bit? Till I fall asleep?” I ask quietly.
“Yeah, that’s fine. You know, I’m always here for you. You know that right?”
I take a deep breath, curl slightly more into a ball.
“Yeah. I know” I pull away for a second. Lifting my head to look at him, I try to give him the best smile I can right now.
He looks concerned, but he’s good at covering it. He looks into my eyes, when his hands move close to my face. I don’t even notice I started crying when he wipes a tear away. It scares me to be honest. I lay my head down once more.
“You know. If you have any troubles. We can help you. Not just Dream or Sapnap, but with whatever you’re struggling with. I can help with the best of my ability, no judgement.”
If I wasn’t crying already. I would’ve cried now. I just wanna say that I’m okay. To fall asleep and wake up tomorrow with another start to the day.
I nod instead. He takes a deep breath.
“And I just….um it’s just that I really care about you. A lot. Okay?”
I lift my head again, to look at him in the face. He looks deep into my eyes. No doubt he sees how high I am. How much pain is there. I just wanna explain but I’m tired. I just wanna say anything but it won’t come out. Instead I just, lean forward and kiss him.
It’s a light kiss. More than a peck but not anything too deep. Like I’m testing him. I’m sure he’s surprised. I want to leave room for him to totally reject this.
I don’t get that. He rests his hand on my cheek. He’s kissing me back. I pull away first, opening my eyes slowly. He speaks first.
“Did you mean that or was it…?” He’s hinting towards the pills.
My voice breaks. “I meant it. Fuck I’m sorry. I should’ve..I meant to ask.. or say something.” I feel embarrassed now. I put my face in my hand.
“No I’ve been meaning to do that to. It’s just that. We’ve -the guys and I -have known you’ve been struggling and we don’t wanna pry too much.”
I peek up from my hand. Kind of amazed.
“Oh I didn’t know you guys really saw that. Or that you wanted to kiss me too. Sorry. “ I would’ve been more responsive if it hadn’t have been for the pills.
“Don’t apologize. We care about you. I admit, I’ve noticed first but we just want you to be okay and comfortable with us.” He says softly. Testing my reaction.
“I trust you guys more than I trust myself.” A small chuckle leaves my mouth.
“Once you sleep this off. Maybe we can discuss it?“ He hesitated to ask.
“Yeah I think we have quite bit to discuss.”
I’m not sure if I mean it 100%, but I definitely wanna start the conversation about my struggles, about kissing him, and about being better. I snuggle back into his chest and he kisses the top of my head. Unspoken words said, but for one time in a long time. I feel okay as I drift to sleep.
#georgenotfound#gogynotfound#georgenotfound x y/n#georgenotfound x reader#george x reader#dsmp angst#dsmp#dsmp george#dsmp x reader#dsmp x y/n#dream team x reader#georgenotfound imagine#georgenotfound fic#georgenotfound angst#gnf mcyt#dsmp gnf#gnf#gnf x reader#gnf angst
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Karl likes to feed the ducks.
Bread is no good. He knows this. Feed a duck bread and they'll choke. A sad way to go, really.
And so Karl pulls a bag of birdseed from his satchel and crouches next to the pond, wrinkling his nose as dead grass tickles his nose. It's high, too high, and he should probably get around to cutting it again. He could get Sapnap to do it because Sapnap is oh-so-strong and oh-so-willing to bend himself backwards to make Karl happy. Karl likes to think that he would do the same. He would-
He shudders as a chill runs up his spine, gasping as a jolt hits him right in the temple. He jerks so hard that he drops the birdseed right into the pond, hands flying to the sides of his head and eyes squeezing shut and lungs and brain and lungs-
Quack!
Karl yelps as he feels a sharp pain in his calf, falls backwards onto his ass and glares at the little shit that bit him.
The duck blinks back innocently, beady black eyes shining in the early morning sun. It quacks again.
"Shut up," Karl grumbles. Shaking hands dunk into the pond to retrieve the dropped seeds. The water's cold, and thank the gods for it. It's enough of a shock to finish snapping him out of... whatever that was.
He fumbles the bag open and holds it out. The duck pokes at it with its beak for a moment before sticking its face right in and chowing down like a motherfucker.
Karl can't help but smile. It's cute, somehow, the duck, despite being a literal nightmare creature from hell. He's been bit by this particular duck more times than he can remember (not that that's hard to do, anymore.) He even named it, for much that's worth. It is a duck. They don't do much.
But Karl likes feeding it and the other few ducks that habit this pond. It's relaxing, something to take his mind off of... well, his mind. It's always just him. Not even Sapnap has ever come out here with him, and he'd like to keep it that way. Because he loves Sapnap and all, but Sapnap has a bit harsher of a touch than anything Karl would prefer. These ducks are precious. Sapnap does kinda still have a reputation as a bit of an animal killer. And Karl does love him, he does, but...
There's one less duck than usual today. Karl frowns and counts again. Including the duck he's feeding, there should be six. There's five today.
Karl remembers dinner the night previous. Sapnap said it was chicken, but was it? It was, right?
("...it's been so long since we've had dinner," Sapnap said. "So! Ta-da!"
He gestured to the table and its spread. Paper plates and plastic cutlery, but a proper roast chicken and what's probably supposed to be a salad and a nice attempt at a cake sit center. Sapnap's smile was soft, hesitant, because he's kinda super actually bad at cooking and Karl knew he had been practicing based off of how full their kitchen's trash can had been over the past couple of weeks.
Karl's lips twitched and he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Just back from a "job", his head was still lightly throbbing and his throat was killing him after yet another death. Strangulation this time, something he would examine later when Sapnap was asleep and it was just Karl looking at himself in a mirror and trying to force himself to remember for their sake- brown eyes and a smile and a blue suit, and was it the past or the future, and why did that Hugh Janus guy look...
"'Ta-da?'" Karl gently mocked. "What are you, a magician?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Yeah.)
But it didn't- it didn't taste like chicken, did it? He thought it did. He thought it did!
"Shit," Karl breathes. His sudden panic and confusion isn't evident to the duck eating from the palm of his hand. "Shit."
And, logically, he shouldn't be that upset. It's just a duck, and not even one he named. It's just an animal. Karl has eaten ducks before. He had duck a couple of trips ago at some fancy dinner party on a cruise ship. But these are his ducks. He didn't tell Sapnap they are his ducks. He should do that. He should make a note to do that so that he doesn't forget.
The duck before him quacks one last time before nipping at his finger and waddling off. Karl startles and looks into the bag to see that it's empty.
He sighs, but he smiles softly. Brat.
"Alex, you little shit," he sighs.
#mcyt#dream smp#dsmp#dsmp fic#c!karl#c!karl jacobs#c!sapnap#c!karlnapity#tales from the smp#tftsmp#he interests me. i am intrigued. i don't like ducks but i do like heavyhanded imagery
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!!Kill Techno-sensei!! - Chapter Two
Words: 2,076
Chapter One (Last)
AO3 Version
Chapter 3 (Next)
The class absorbs the threat, stunned, hushed. Quackity clenches his fists. "Why the fuck would you do that?" His defiance shatters the silence.
"Because I can." Technoblade replies dismissively. "But I am here to teach, so please, open your textboo-"
"No." Quackity smirks, wearing a confidence he doesn't feel. "Why would you destroy the Earth? You're immortal, sure, but you seem like the kind of guy who's easily bored. What would you have left after your little temper tantrum?"
One floppy ear flicks irritably. "You see, the idea is, I'd die as well."
"If you want to die so fucking bad, why don't you just let us kill you, asshole?"
"That kinda defeats the purpose of the threat. You see, you're completely correct in your assessment. I am bored." Technoblade's light yet nearly monotone voice grates on Quackity's nerves. "I'm simply too good. Unbeatable, even. I've searched and searched, but haven't found a single worthy foe."
"So you failed!" Quackity crows, slamming his fist on the desk. Psychological warfare, baby.
Tommy takes up the jeer as well, "You failed, big man, ho, ho!! Eat shit!"
Technoblade scowls and buries his muzzle in the thick textbook. "Why don't we move on. Page three-hundre-"
"Move on?? Move on?? You killed my family, Technoblade, you fucking killed them all! I can't fucking move on from that!" Quackity snarls.
Exhaustion leaks from Technoblade's glower. "I've killed many families, Quackity. All for one goal."
"Fuck you and your motherfucking anarchy!! You think I'm scared of you?? I- I-" The words choke in Quackity throat as Technoblade stands up. He shrinks in his seat.
"Stay away from him." Sapnap growls.
Technoblade ignores the students completely, instead turning to the whiteboard and picking up a marker. "History is not circular."
"What's the fucking point." Quackity grumbles under his breath. There's no winning against a man who'd have no qualms about punting him.
"Nor is it straight."
"Pfft, knew it. Now everyone who hates history will get cancelled for being homophobic." Tommy somehow manages to both lighten the mood and make everything worse at the same time.
Technoblade doesn't get angry or annoyed, however. "Heh. History is pretty gay, not gonna lie. It's also-" He steps away from his crude drawing of a squiggly line, "a helix. History repeats itself in stages. Anyone want to guess why?"
Tommy leans back in his chair. "Because you're fucking dumb, that's why."
"Ranboo?" Technoblade addresses the creepy, quiet boy huddled over his desk in the back of the class.
"Uh- well-"
"Nothing ever stays the same, big guy." Tubbo interjects. "It's not as simple as stuffing it all into a one dimensional form. Who's to say it's even a line at all?"
Technoblade shrugs. "Fair, fair. Why don't y'all discuss."
With that, most of the tension in the room dissolves. Groups form as students gravitate towards their friends. Chatter fills the former silence. Quackity forces himself to join in, laughing and pretending like everything is normal again. But nothing about this is normal.
He can't kill Technoblade through sheer strength. But he could easily outwit him. The gears spin in his mind, working out a plot.
++++
The first week has gone by uneventfully. Nobody's tried to kill Technoblade yet, who in turn has behaved like a responsible teacher, refraining from punting anyone. It's so boring.
The last class of Friday ends with the bell, and the kids file out. Technoblade ignores the bitter glares from the little ‘gang’ that calls themselves Ducklings. They haven't attempted anything yet, and Technoblade doubts they'll ever find the guts to actually go through with their plots. Pity, really.
Tommy remains behind, trying to shoo Tubbo, who refuses to leave him. "Teacher!" Tommy stomps up to Techno and slams his notebook on the desk. He's a blustery scamp, but Technoblade has seen how he brightens the classroom and helps his peers.
"Tommy."
"Let me kill you."
"Us." Tubbo corrects.
"Let us kill you or else."
"Or?"
“I'll fail all my classes." Tommy grins, seeming confident he's found a bargaining chip. "And I'll tell everyone else to fail theirs, too. You'll be known as the worst fucking teacher to have ever teachered!"
"Oh, the horror." Technoblade deadpans. He's got to admit, the kid has guts. "You think I care?"
"You've gotta. You're our teacher, after all."
"K." Technoblade doesn't smile. "I'm afraid I can't just let you kill me."
"Then prepare to be failed upon!"
"But." Techno holds up a hand. "But, if you try to pass your classes, I will teach you how to kill me. Deal?"
Tubbo pipes up, "That will be adequate. Come on, Tommy."
Technoblade waits until both are out of the classroom. He doesn't feel guilty at all. What should he feel guilty for, after all? Simmering rage burns in his chest, a constant companion to the acid in his mind.
Next class, he promises himself. Next class, the training will begin. He'll be one step closer to achieving his goals.
Technoblade rises and lets his human form melt away. The voices in his head scream, as they always have, as they always will, hundreds of thousands of souls trapped in here with him. His eyes-- all millions of them-- blink open as his hundreds of wings unfurl. Anyone who could see him now might name him a beast or an angel, and either could be correct. But Technoblade knows both are false promises. Humans can't create beasts or angels, after all.
Demons, however, are apparently a different matter.
++++
Ranboo only went back to get his notebook. He can't forget his notebook; that is the one thing he's not allowed to forget. Shadows seep from every corner of the classroom. He shivers as he hastily scrambles to his desk.
His book isn't in his desk. Where is it?? He can't lose it. He rummages in the desk frantically. Where is it, where is it, where is it??
The window creaks, and Ranboo yelps, leaping away from the sudden draft. "Wh-who's there?"
"Hey." The kind voice greets him from the darkness. "You're out late."
"I- I just- uhh, who are you?"
"Who are you?"
"I- uhh, I'm Ranboo." He backs away to the door. On the floor, silver glints in a shaft of moonlight. The spiral of his notebook. Crap. The shadowed form leaps silently into the classroom and kneels to pick up the book. Crap, crap. "Uh- that's- that's mine, actually."
"Is it, now?" The gentle mockery in his tone sets Ranboo on edge.
"Yes, actually, so- so give it back. Please?"
The mysterious form opens Ranboo's book and flips through it. "Interesting. Alright." He hands it back to Ranboo, who snatches it and scrambles for the door. "Actually, Ranboo, I wanted to talk to you."
The words yank Ranboo to a halt. He wants to retort, he wants to say no, he wants to leave, but instead he turns back meekly. "Okay?"
"You're in class 3-E, yeah?"
"Y-yeah...?"
"Good. That's good. Do you want your teacher to die?"
"Huh?" Ranboo tenses, confused by the seeming non sequitor. "I- I mean." Does he want Technoblade to die? Does he want anyone to die, for that matter? "N-not necessarily?"
"Hm. Alright."
"Who are you?" Ranboo gathers what little courage he has and steps back towards the door.
"You, hm, you can call me Dream." The man steps out of the shadows. The mask over his face grins eerily at Ranboo. "I've got a proposition for you, Ranboo."
++++
"Metal melts in the bastard's skin, so anything with metal is a fucking waste of time." Quackity spreads the pages of his plan over the tree-house's table.
"Maybe he's a vampire." Karl offers, sitting on the table and messing up Quackity's perfect layout. "Try wood stakes and garlic."
"Vampires aren't real, dumbass." Connor rolls his eyes.
"Well, neither are immortal pig-men mutants, but here we are."
"He's a pig-man, not a vampire. Maybe try something for werewolves? Silver?" Sapnap joins in, swinging on the hammock.
"He's not a fucking werewolf!" Quackity shoves Karl off the table. "Or a vampire. He's a motherfucking demon, that asshole is, and we need to fucking kill him!"
"Language!!" The screech from the roof of the treehouse freezes everyone in place.
"Karl." Quackity says calmly. "Who the fuck did you invite to our secret hideout?"
"Nobody!" Karl cries.
"Connor?"
"He said he'd bring coke!" Connor cries.
A short man dressed in goth black and red accents drops through the window and smiles at the Ducklings. "I did, but the cans burst on the way."
"Not soda-"
"Language!!" The man cries again, shushing Connor. "You kids shouldn't mess with bad stuff, anyway."
"We don't." Quackity shoots a glare at Connor. "Anyway, it's none of your fucking business. Why the fuck are you here?? What do you want??"
"I, uhh, just thought I'd help with your problem." The man grins. "You want to kill your teacher, right?"
"Yeah? But-"
"Well, there you go! I can help you! Name's Bad, by the way. Badboyhalo."
"How can you help? And what do you want in return??"
"Oh, hmm, how about seventy-five percent of the bounty."
"Deal." Twenty-five percent of ten billion is still more than enough, and Quackity would prefer revenge on Technoblade over riches, anyway. "How do we kill him?"
"I've got associates working on that tiny problem. We stole- uh, developed a way to hurt him temporarily, but he can't be killed unless you hit his heart, and his regen powers are too strong to let you reach that with any weapons we currently possess."
"How the fuck do you know all this??"
Bad smirks. "Social networking."
++++
Ranboo paces in the chilly alleyway, reading and re-reading his book as shivers wrack his body. He found it. Good. Everything is fine, now. He's fine.
He shuts out the uneasiness caused by the blurry darkness over his memories. He's never had a good memory, which is why he has this book in the first place.
He huddles in the corner of the grimy alley to complete his homework, and wonders briefly why there's a second notebook in his backpack also marked 'Do Not Read'. Maybe he forgot he already had one. No worries. It's fine.
Everything is fine.
++++
"Class." Technoblade greets his students as they file in. Quackity glares at the monster. He's in his piggy form today, his cloak swishing across the ground.
"Rise." Tommy calls out the traditional honor given to teachers. But the class hadn't done this before for Technoblade. Quackity glances around at his fellow students, who all seem just as confused. He stands up. The others hesitantly follow his lead.
"Bow." Tommy sets the example of a shallow bow. Then he straightens and draws a revolver. "Lock on!"
Quackity stares as Tubbo, Eret, and Wilbur also draw out guns and take aim on Technoblade.
"Heh??" Technoblade chuffs in confusion.
"Target on Korosensei!" Tommy snaps out the order. "Fire!"
"Korosensei??" Quackity's disbelieving laugh is drowned out by the ringing cracks of the guns and the shrill shrieks of students.
"HEH??" Technoblade chuffs again amidst the chaos. Quackity makes the signal to his gang as they stay out of the line of fire.
"All stop!" Tommy barks. The gunfire ceases.
Technoblade stares at his class, a tusky smile cracking across his muzzle. "For your first assassination attempt, that was four stars, kids."
"Wow, that's really good!" Tubbo cheers and high-fives Tommy.
"Out of ten."
"Oh. Awww, come on, we deserve some credit for actually getting guns!"
"You missed." Technoblade replies. "And you ruined my whiteboard."
"That's your fault, innit, though, big man. If you'd've taken the bullets, the whiteboard would be alright."
"That's true, that's true." Technoblade's smile fades into a scowl. "But you also put your classmates in danger."
"They could've asked us what the plan was." Wilbur hums. "It's really their fault for sitting between us and you. And therefore it's your fault for assigning their seats there."
"True." Eret agrees. "It's all Korosensei's fault."
++++
Philza walks between his guards, Punz and Ponk, as the two escort him through the compound. "What happened?" He asks, faking calm.
"Technoblade added another term to our deal." President Skeppy walks backwards in front of Philza. Beside him, Awesamdude keeps a hand on his holstered revolver.
"Did he."
"He wants his class trained for assassination. In return, he told us his weakness."
"Hm." Philza smiles, hiding the whirlwind of chaos and bloodlust behind his eyes. "Pog."
@@@@ KOROSENSEI NEVER DIES @@@@
Chapter 3 (Next)
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Love Run, The Song You Know's Begun.
"Though some would harm you, none - not one - no none
Would raise to you a hand nor thumb
Not while by you I stand and hum" - The Amazing Devil, Love Run Reprise
---
The afterlife. Choices. Broken Promises.
Cross posted on ao3. Link in reblog
He wakes up in a meadow, surrounded by lilies, marigolds, poppies and white carnations. He blinks slowly, looking up at the sky. It’s synthetic. Perfectly painted. The sky is a beautiful baby blue, and he can see the paint strokes in the clouds.
He isn’t angry though. He can’t find it in himself to be angry. He hardly remembers who he is.
Where he is.
He stands, running his hand through his hair. He’s wearing a long sleeved white shirt, with a red collar and arms. His pants are beige, pockets filled with rocks and faded photos. His heart yearns, but he doesn’t move, the flowers growing through his feet and anchoring him to the meadow. Blood pools at his feet, runs in front of his eyes. His skin is littered black and blue.
But he isn’t in pain.
He can’t move.
“You have a choice” The universe whispers to him, gently in the breeze. “You can go back, or you can move forward. You were ripped from that world too soon.”
It’s regret, what's on her voice. At least, thats what he thinks it is.
“Why can’t I remember anything?” He asks her. “What’s my name? Why am I bleeding?”
“You have a choice,” The universe reiterates. “You can go back, or you can move forward. I cannot tell you about your past. I will not tell you of your future. This choice is entirely yours.”
“How will I know?”
“You will feel it. You will feel the pull towards one option or another.”
“What if,” He pauses, uncertain. “What if I don’t want to choose?”
“Then you will be split between both. Half will move forward. Half will go back.” The universe seems to want to say something, as though she believes that she is leaving something out that is important.
“Can I stay here?” His voice is small, uncertain. “I don’t want to be hurt again. I don’t want to be an adult anymore.”
A woman appears in the meadow. Her dark, shoulder length hair flows gently in the breeze, golden cloak swaying with the grass. She wears a black, sleeveless top and black cargo pants, alongside leather boots. She turns to him, and her eyes look like the stars. She isn’t Clara - the emptiness of the void does not exist here - but he knows her.
He’s seen her in the photos on someone’s walls. Heard about her in another’s tales. Felt her in a person’s embrace.
She is the universe.
She is Kristen.
She walks to him silently, tears welling in her eyes as she pulls him into a hug. It’s warm, the warmth he craved from before, but not dangerously so. He isn’t cold anymore. She holds him as he breaks. He doesn’t know his name, he doesn’t know what he left behind. He doesn’t know where he is or what he is. But he knows her.
“I can’t keep you here.” She whispers to him. “My boy, my son, how I wish I could. Someone awaits you on both sides. You should go to one of them.”
“But what about you?”
“I will join you when the last member of our family joins you.”
“Mum-”
“You have to decide, now.” She pulls away from him, and wipes the tears from his eyes. “Where will you go?”
“I can’t. Both?” He watches her with sad eyes. “Will I remember both?”
“When half of you decides to move forward, then you will remember what the half that moved back will remember.”
“Then both.” He says, and Kristen - the universe - smiles at him. She is kind.
“Go back to sleep. When you wake up, all will be well.”
----
Ghostinnit wakes in his dirt house, floating just off of the bed. He sits, confused. What does he remember?
“TO REVOKE THE CITIZENSHIP-” “Let’s be the bad guys, Tommy.” “I don’t give a FUCK about spirit.” “Let’s blow that motherfucker to smithereens” “Sorry doesn’t cut it. “The only universal language is violence.” “Down with the revolution boys, it was never meant to be.” “I wanna see WHITE FLAGS!” “We’re fucked, we were fucked the minute we were thrown out.” “He would drop us at the SECOND he realised we’re not in the lead anymore.” “Do you know what happens to traitors, Tubbo?” “L’Manburg can be independent, but L’Manburg can’t be FREE.” “The most logical thing to do. For Tommy to be… Exiled. From L’Manburg.”
Oh.
So that’s what he remembers.
Ghostinnit doesn’t know who he can trust. He remembers dying, painful, slow and full of fear, but he doesn’t remember much from between doomsday and death. Perhaps he was happy? Or at least, not scared? He shouldn’t trust anyone, just in case.
Ghostinnit floats out of his house, ‘walking’ towards Eret’s castle. As much as Tommy wants to hate the king for betraying L’Manburg, Tommy remembers seeing Eret fight alongside him during doomsday. Go head to head with Dream and Techno and Philza. The admin and Tommy’s family. Eret fought to help him. So Tommy should be able to at least forgive the king, or steal from him.
He’ll make up his mind on the way there.
Ghostinnit floats, not paying much attention to his surroundings, until he stops. He’s not sure what made him stop, but he looks at the flower garden that grows around Eret’s base. Wild poppies grow on the lawn, and Tommy sits down, picking them. He doesn’t know what possess him to make the flower crown, but it doesn’t feel right until he stops.
A flower crown made of poppies.
A crown of blood.
Tommy holds the flower crown gently, taking great care not to bend it wrong. He floats into the grand castle, wandering until he hears a shout.
“He’s gone, Tubbo!” It’s Jack, his mind happily supplies. He has a few bad memories of the man, he recognises the shout, but he doesn’t have any recent memories of him, so he surely could trust Jack! “He’s gone and the server is thriving!”
“How could you be so heartless!” Tubbo screams, and Ghostinnit floats over to the doorway. Niki and Jack stand to one side, idly watching as Eret holds Tubbo back. Ghostinnit’s friend (ex-friend? They did have a falling out) is struggling against Eret’s grip, screaming and thrashing. Phil and Techno are there, both glaring at Jack and Niki. Tommy doesn’t understand it.
A casket lies on a pedestal, the L’Manburg flag draped over it. A soldier's burial, for Wilbur perhaps. Tommy knows that getting his body from the prison would be a hassall. One that those who hate him wouldn’t go through, even if those people were his father and brother. Sam and a sheep woman stand guard over it, though their eyes are clouded with pain. Quackity and Sapnap weap, Karl holding onto them protectively. Perhaps not Wilbur’s funeral then, he doesn’t remember Wilbur being close to either of the two, though he might have become close in the happy memories.
“What's wrong?” Ghostinnit asks quietly, floating into the room. The crowd looks at him, and Ghostinnit wants to curl up in the air. There are too many people looking at him, they’re angry, they’re going to kill him-
“Tommy?” The sheep woman’s voice breaks, and somewhere in his mind he digs up a name. Puffy. “Oh Void-”
“You’re Puffy, right?” His voice is small. “I don’t have any memories of you, so you must have been a good memory.”
“What?” Eret chokes out. “I thought-”
“I only have bad memories. I guess the universe wanted me to make better memories.” Ghostinnit shrugs, though he can’t quite make the panic subside. He wishes everyone would just look away-
“You look like shit.” Jack says, glaring at him.
“Well, I was beaten to death by my abuser.” Ghostinnit shoots back, though he floats back from the man. Something is off about him. He doesn’t seem quite right. “And I’m sorry for not exactly having enough time to look at myself. I wanted to come see Eret. Who’s funeral is this?”
“It’s yours.” Sam says, bowing his head. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I’m so sorry-”
“You didn’t kill me.” Ghostinnit says. “You did what you had to do.”
“We’ll bring you back.” Tubbo says, his eyes full of promises he can’t keep. “I don’t care what we have to do. What deals we have to make.”
“Don’t.” Ghostinnit shakes his head. “The revive book isn’t real. I don’t want to come back. I’m only here because I’m waiting.”
“For what?” Techno asks, and Quackity glares at Ghostinnit’s older brother, who ignores Tubbo’s wails. “What are you waiting for?”
“Whoever Kristen says she’s waiting for.” Ghostinnit shrugs. “Then I’ll go back to the meadow.”
And with that, Ghostinnit turns to leave. He’ll talk to Eret after the ceremony. After his funeral. After all, he doesn’t want to watch as his father and brother’s faces fall with the memory of his mother. He doesn’t want to listen to Tubbo and Puffy’s wails. He just wants to let Eret know that he was forgiven. He places the flower crown on a table underneath a mirror, somehow having made his way into one of Eret’s bathrooms.
He sees his reflection in the mirror, and stares at it in shock. The black eye that he was given as he was beaten to death is no more, instead replaced with a bouquet of forget-me-nots. In fact, all of his bruises are the small, blue flowers. The blood that fell from the side of his mouth and his nose is gone, replaced by a poppy. He wears a red sweater, not unlike Ghostbur’s yellow one, or Glatt’s blue one, and his skin is grey.
His eyes are blue though, not whited out like he imagined. Pure blue, no glowing white or void like black. A bright, sky blue.
He smiles, and poppy petals fall from his lips.
---
Tommy hops off the train that left the meadow, a bag over his back. He’s wearing his normal clothes, and the injuries he once sustained are gone. He feels solid, but also not solid. Scared, but not. He remembers everything, and somehow nothing.
He doesn’t know which stop to hop off at, so he doesn’t. He watches as others hop off at different stops, ghosts going to worlds. Perhaps to be reborn, perhaps to meet the afterlife. Maybe even to become a member of someone’s chat.
The train stops, and he’s the only one on his carriage. The end of the line.
Tommy gets off, worry in his gut. What if he doesn’t see Wilbur here? What if Wilbur hopped off at another stop. What if Wilbur doesn’t want to see him?
What if he does see Wilbur?
Tommy looks around the station, hugging himself as he tries to find a familiar face. Maybe Schlatt will be there, maybe not. He’d take anyone , at this point.
He’s the only person who hops off at this station.
“Tommy?” It’s Wilbur’s voice that pulls him out of his frantic searching. “You’re not supposed to be here, the void wasn’t preparing for you. Why are you here?”
Tommy turns, and sees his brother. Still in his Pogtopia coat, but cleaner. Warmer. Tears pool in Tommy’s eyes, and he runs to his brother, getting pulled into a hug. He’s with Wilbur again. He’s nearly home .
“Who hurt you, Toms?” Wilbur sounds choked up, upset. “Why are you here?”
“Dream.” Tommy says quietly. “He beat me to death.”
“I’ll kill him.” Wilbur swears, and Tommy laughs wetly.
“Don’t. I promised that I’d see you soon.” Tommy pulls out of Wilbur’s hug, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go home, I’m tired of being an adult. Let’s be a family again.”
“I’m not supposed to see you for another fifty years.” Wilbur accepts the hand Tommy offers him, smiling sorrowfully. “But I’m glad you hopped off the train here.”
“I wouldn’t have hopped off anywhere else. Too much pull to here.”
They both walk out of the station, hand in hand. Tommy sees the outline of Schlatt and Mexican Dream in the distance, and he knows that his family will come through, sooner or later. He’ll see them around, but for now he’ll spend time with his older brother and his friends.
He has an eternity to spend with everyone else, when they arrive.
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