#and barely resembles ranboo

[showf4ll-media]

Alter art based on a picture of Ranboo that REALLY felt like it needed cat ears.

Unshaded + ref below the break!! Interaction would be cool… I’m very proud of how this turned out.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Cat au

Philza and Techno, the notorious rules of the Antarctic Empire who ruled with an iron fist, are reincarnated as cats and get adopted.

~~~~~~~~

Ranboo has had his eye on a couple of the campus cats for a while.

Well, the only campus cats, they were extremely territorial and no other cats would set foot on campus anymore.

The big one, Techie, was rumored to have fought off a rattlesnake.

Okay, maybe the cat’s names weren’t *actually* Techie and Phil, they were originally named by the social studies teachers with the same names the famous AE dictators, Philza and Technoblade. They had a similar appearance, as much as cats could resemble famous dictators, and a tight bond.

And Ranboo couldn’t exactly go around calling them *that*, now could he?

Someone would think he was one of those neo-Antarctics if he did.

Ranboo had put a lot of effort into getting the cats to trust him, sometimes just spending hours sitting on the sidewalk near the bushes where they liked to sleep.

He’d occasionally bring treats for the cats, a can of chicken or tuna, and it seemed to be working. Slowly though. Very slowly.

Ranboo really hoped they’d trust him enough to be able to take them home before he graduated.

The small light orange shorthair tabby, Phil, would sometimes come over to greet Ranboo now when he sat near the cat’s hideout, and occasionally allowed Ranboo to pet him. Techie usually watched from the bushes, distrusting of Ranboo.

Today though, Ranboo was worried. Tubbo had shown him a video one of the students had posted on ChitChat of Techie fighting a coyote. Techie had run the coyote off, but not before it got a few hits in.

So here Ranboo was, skipping class, with a bag of cat treats in his hand, a blue towel over his shoulder, and a pink cloth carrying case under his other arm.

He arrived at the cat’s favorite spot and called out for them.

Phil came *running* out of the bushes towards him, meowing loudly.

That’s not something Phil had ever done before, and it certainly didn’t reassure Ranboo about the cat’s well being.

“Hey, little guy.” Ranboo crouched down. “Are you okay? Where’s Techie, huh? I heard he got into a fight with a coyote.”

Phil, still meowing loudly, turned in a circle twice and started walking in the direction he’d come from, glancing over his shoulder peek at Ranboo.

“You want me to follow you?”

Phil kept walking.

“Okay” Ranboo stood.

Ranboo followed Phil a short way before Phil disappeared under a bush, and Ranboo knelt down to get a look amid Phil’s frantic meowing.

“Yeah, I see him Phil, I see him.”

The large reddish brown tabby lay under the bush. Ranboo shouldn’t have been able to get so close without Techie reacting, but for now he was still.

“Alright, let me get a better look at him.” Ranboo said, setting down the treats and the carrier and reaching out with the towel to gently grab Techie and drag him out from under the bush.

Ranboo caught his breath.

Techie’s fur was blood matted and the rise and fall of his ribcage was barely detectable. The complete lack of reaction to what Ranboo had done was an indication that the cat was likely unconscious.

“Oh nooooo” Ranboo breathed. “That’s not good. This- this needs professional help.”

Phil was quiet now, worriedly nudging against Techie.

Ranboo tried to think as he wrapped Techie in the towel.

“Okay, the nearest emergency vet is about a twenty minute walk. I can take him there.”

Phil meowed.

“You don’t want to let him out of your sight, do you. Okay, you can come, but you have to be in the carrier.”

Ranboo unzipped the carrier and Phil got inside. Huh. Ranboo thought that would be harder.

Ranboo got the carrier strap over his shoulder and picked up the towel wrapped Techie in his arms.

“Okay, here we go.”

~~~~~~~~~

It turned out that the walk was twenty five minutes with two cats. Techie had been whisked to the back before they even got Ranboo’s information.

Once he was gone Ranboo sorted out the situation with the front desk. The lady asked if Techie had been vaccinated, and when Ranboo said no, she asked if he wanted to go ahead and have that done.

Ranboo agreed, and asked if they could vaccinate Phil too. The vet could do that, and if he was going to be here for a few hours anyway, they could even neuter him. Techie would need time to recover before he was eligible to be neutered though, so he’d need a separate appointment.

Phil didn’t seem too happy about that idea, but Ranboo was determined to be a responsible cat owner, so Phil was soon in the arms of another veteran, on his way to surgery, and Ranboo waited alone.

A few hours later, Phil was returned to him and he got an update on Techie’s condition. He would be okay, but they’re keeping him overnight for observation, and would need a couple weeks of medication. After that he would be healthy enough to be neutered.

Ranboo went ahead and scheduled the appointment.

~~~~~~~

Ranboo takes Phil home (they gave Phil the good meds, he is very high) and takes Techie home the next day.

Techie recovers well, but Techie is very stubborn and refuses to get in the carrier and Ranboo can never get him to the vet.

Not even after Techie warms up to him.

I love everything about this, but especially that Phil lost his balls in the divorce...

[tjodity]

[ID: Two images of pencil drawings based off of the Dream SMP.

The first depicts a shoulders-up drawing of c!Tubbo. He wears a very large, dark jacket with bright pauldrons sliding off of his shoulders, and a high-collared button up with a tie below it. His hair is wavy, dyed brightly and at jaw length. Dark roots just barely show. His face is chubby, with dark, streaking scars covering his skin and emerging from the center of his face. He is grimacing. From his nose and above his face is covered by a cracked, rudimentary visage of Jschlatt's face, looking to be made of porcelain or stone. His eyes are white, and stare ahead blankly. Beside the drawing is a smaller drawing of c!Tubbo. His full body is visible, but his head has been replaced by an explosion. A caption reads 'too big, worn like cape' next to the coat thrown over his shoulders.

The second image contains a shoulders-up drawing of c!Ranboo. He does not have a very human appearance. His face is shaped like a rounded triangle, and he has no mouth. He has a dog-like nose, raised eyebrows, and very large eyes looking away. He has short, floofy hair with two small, clover-shaped horns coming out of it. He has a long, furry neck bent at multiple points to lower his head. He resembles a giraffe. His fur and skin are black and white split in a blotchy fashion. He wears a heavily crinkled suit. END ID]

Revised Tubbo design+ranboo design. Mr president and his right hand man. arm. his silly rabbit

[patxhwrk]

greetings. could u write a little imagine thing for ethoslab? watcher!reader or dsmp!reader thanks! preferably male reader. take ur time if u do write it. stay hydrated.

my fuck this is such a good idea thank you anon for being so smart

anyways dsmp reader with angst sorry about that

completely forgot u asked for an imagine so have a whole fic instead. I might write a seperate imagine for this one too tho

-ˋˏ✄— Bubbling Memories

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ Ethoslab x Male! DSMP! Reader

Pronouns: he/him

"You're more home to me than any house is."

.navigation. // .hermitcraft & empires smp masterlist.

CW!!

—Mentions of character death

—Implications of self-harm & attempt su*c*de

—Blood

—Derealization(?)

Every second spent in that lawless server—ironic, considering it had been laws that started wars—was spent in the echoes of left behind misery. There was never silence in that world. If you managed to stumble upon even a sliver of quaint and quiet, you would find that it would have been better to have the ear piercing noise.

Y/n was lucky enough to have been left with one life. The last thing he remembered from the old server was the sorrowful eyes of his friends waving goodbye as he left. The portal—it vaguely reminded him of a nether portal if it was pink—shrunk as Tubbo's and Ranboo's backs turned to leave.

He hugged the blue stained yellow sweater closer to himself as he turned towards the new server—his new server—as the habitants greeted him with warmed welcome arms.

He was half afraid of building something that took effort. But one reassuring conversation with Xisuma—the man somewhat resembled Dream. Why was his mask fucking green?—coaxed him into building one of the biggest and best things he had ever created in his life. Well, it was just an "improved" Logstedshire, but it was the thought that counts, right? Building it reminded him of the time he spent with his brothers—though one had been a ghost, it was fine. He even put a bell where he and Tommy would—!

His hands stopped swinging the bell.

Tommy was dead. His younger brother had visited Dream in the prison where he was left to die. And he left his brother because he was too much of a pussy to confront the same man who had tormented him until he had a knife barely glazing at the skin of his throat.

He shook his head, running his hands through the mop he called hair as the bell ringed a final time. It silenced before it stilled. And then Y/n left his base.

Voices rang in his ear—was it his?—as he scolded himself for building something that gave him so much horrible memories more than the good ones. Why can't be just be like Ghostbur? Forgetful of the sorrows and always looking at the sun even through dark clouds.

His arms found comfort in himself, wrapping around each other as his nails dug into the skin under the yellow sweater. Wilbur wouldn't mind if he stained it, right? Wilbur would reassure him that it was fine, he was fine, it was all fine. And then he'd take the sweater and wash it. Because Wilbur was a good big brother.

No, Wilbur's dead. His brother was long dead before Philza killed him. Ghostbur wasn't like Wilbur, either.

He walked aimlessly around the server. He would have reminded himself of Ranboo's enderwalking state if he was in his own head. He watched as he passed by builds, ignoring the calls of concerned friends—friends? He had friends now?—as his feet brought him further and further from the build that he longed to blow up. Longed to tear into shreds bare handed as the memories of a pain long buried but never forgotten bubbled back to his head. Longed to feel the blood coat his fingers as his fists crashed through the shards of glass that showed the reflections of himself—a man who was too much of a coward to save his little brother. Too much of a coward to stop his father from killing the brother he looked up to. Too much of a fucking coward to just shove the knife through his chest, in the same place the sword dyed the sweater blue.

He longed to let his hands, his arms, his whole body fucking hurt. The seating hot pain that followed, the ache, the numbness, before it disappeared and he'd wake up with one less life left.

A hand was placed on his wrists. Cold, it was so fucking cold, as it pulled his shaking hands away from the yellow—now red stained sleeves—sweater.

It jolted him awake. Whether it was the cold, the tug of his arms, the way his voice called to him, or his concerned eyes searching for something—just something—in Y/n's unfocused stare.

"Y/n, hey," Etho's voice was gentle. He was patient as he tried to bring Y/n's eyes to his own. "Hey, hey, I'm here."

"I—Etho?" Y/n's voice was barely above a whisper, almost inaudible to Etho if he hadn't been paying close attention to him. "What—?"

Etho's arms wrapped around his midsection, pressing him against himself as his hand raised to hold Y/n's head gently. "Thank void you're okay."

Hesitantly, Y/n wrapped his arms around Etho's neck. He hadn't realized his legs were shaking until his whole weight was leaned against him. But Etho didn't complain, he was strong enough to carry Y/n if he ever needed. And he did now.

Y/n sniffled. He didn't stop the tears flowing out of his eyes as he buried his head on Etho's shoulder. And Etho let him. He buried his head on his hair as Y/n's whole body shook.

Pressing a feather light kiss on the crown of his head, Etho whispered in the quiet forest. "It's okay, you can cry. But it is never your fault. None of it is."

Y/n's eyes searched the distance, and he realized just how far he walked when he spotted the world border a distance away. He sniffled and hiccuped as Etho gently and patiently combed through his hair.

He shook off his thoughts before it could remind him of a memory long past and buried himself further into Etho's clothes. It smelled like redstone, and the glowing red dust was enough to tell Y/n that he was working on a project before hand.

"Let's get you home, shall we?"

"No, not my place. Please don't bring me back there, not again."

Etho nodded. The pain in Y/n's voice stung his heart, and he knew he had to make him feel better. He kneeled down for a short second just to hook his arms under Y/n's knees and bring him up to carry him easier. Y/n's head still nested on his shoulder as he took off to the direction of his own base.

"My place, then."

"You don't have a proper base yet, Etho." Etho felt the upwards tug of his lips. His eyes glanced down to Y/n's whose reddened eyes watched the path they took.

"Hey, it's a home to me and it'll be a home to you!" He laughed to lighten the mood. Y/n's quiet chuckles followed after him and he smiled down at him.

"Thank you, Etho."

"Anytime, sweetheart."

Y/n could take down improved Logstedshire when he felt better. Then, he wouldn't have to do it bare handed. Or alone, he reminded himself, as his eyes found dual coloured eyes.

Right now, he was just content to be with Etho.

—PATCHWRK !

[hangezoeenthusiast]

God(hcs)

c!multiple x god!reader

notes: the reader will be the god of death to make it a little bit more spicy :). c!punz’s pronouns are he/they, i’m not sure about the others, but i know theirs. also why does ranboo take away my gender? /j

word count: 1,672

warnings: arson, violence, cursing, yelling, mention of death, voices in technos part, spoilers for wilbur if you haven’t watch tommy’s lore stream, revival for wilbur, making a religion, time travel, egg, prison, stealing, anarchy, playful name calling

Sapnap

so obviously y’all would be a great match :)

you have creative mode, so when sap would ask you to give him a lighter and tnt, you would GLADLY give it

also, can we talk about him being a nether hybrid

fire squared

like fires left and right, hide your mom and your children in your house lol /j

but besides the whole arson thing, you favor him above anyone else on the server

like if he asks for diamond blocks, well here’s a whole inventory of it, also, here’s some ancient debris and some netherite

if someone asked, you would probably grant them with poison and curses, just because you can’t be “unloyal” to snapchat 

wouldn’t be lonely anymore

Dreamwastaken

this duo is less chaotic, but chaotic enough where people avoid you

he still asks you for stuff, but most of the time, you don’t give him it because he annoys you too much about giving stuff

“hey y/n/n, can i pretty please get some emerald blocks.”

“nope bitch, get it yourself.”

but sometimes, you grant him some op shit, when it’s your good day

“because i’m being nice, here’s some diamond, now, don’t ask me again you little piss baby.”

“shut your trap y/n.”

“or what homeless teletubby, what are you going to do to a god like me?”

“you hang out with technoblade to much.”

Georgenotfound

maybe the least chaotic duo

you guys keep on relaxing and relaxing until the point where you don’t do anything

he barely asks you for anything, but only when it’s really really important, like a house or build

especially when he was building his little cottagecore house, he needed your godly presence to help

“y/n, what should the roof be made of?”

“i suggest brick, it makes it more aestheticy if that makes any sense.”

also barely any drama or tea with you guys

never arguing and never betraying each other is a must

Tubbo

also another least chaotic duo

literally help him with his bee farm, he will (platonically) love you forever

gotta be close to ranboo, that’s the rule

gives him SO much stuff, he’s a precious boi 🙄

also gotta be close to tommy, but not as much unfortunately

you help him pick out things for builds, like what material clashes with another, etc

“do you think that the wool and the netherite blocks look good together y/n?”

“nah, what i suggest is the wool with the gold, it looks perfect.”

sometiems, gotta put him in check because he gets a little ego built up

you definitely yank his horn a little too hard because of your IMMENSE STRENGTH

“OW, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT Y/N.”

“calm down sunny, you were just getting a bit over your head a little.”

Tommyinnit

chaotic duo like sapnap

snaps at anyone who annoys you and vice versa

you give him EVERYTHING, obviously except op and creative

he tries to persuade you to do something, but dreamxd wouldn’t allow it, since he is the main boss

“come on y/n, give me op.”

“no tommy, xd will kick my ass.”

“pweaseee.”

“no.”

you would DEFINITELY help him with the Big Innit Hotel, making the whole layout and color palette.

both of you have an intense hatred for ranboo, since he “stole” tubbo away from tommy

Ranboo

least involved in everything

just stay in the tundra and drink some tea, and you’re good for all of your life

helps him get netherite all the time so your boii can get the good stuff 😬

when he mines to get diamonds, he literally prays to you

“y/n, if you’re listening, please give me a 6 vein, i desperately need it for my collection of diamond blocks.”

and THERE IT IS

more than a 6 vein actually, a 12 vein

guess he needs to pray to you more

daily tea sessions, to talk about the good stuff, and NO, and i repeat NO skipping

threatening to flick water on him check ✅

Wilbur Soot

literally you spoil him

not to be angsty, but when he died and lost his last canon life, you revived him instead of Dream

now he’s practically at your knees

like he’s thinks that he owes you, but actually that’s the opposite

he was revived because you were lonely, and wanted your best friend back :(

prays to you when he goes to bed

“hey y/n, hope you’re having a great day, (platonically) love you.”

“love you too mortal.”

sometimes, to be at the peak of godness, you shower upon wilbur as gold to symbolize blessings, like zeus did before

“omg y/n, what are you doing?”

“i’m trying to bless you, shut up bitch.”

just saying, he would make a religion about you :/

Karl Jacobs

omg don’t get me started on this

first, you wouldn’t codone him going back in time

he would definitely forget your name a lot, so that’s why you hated it

“hey karl, how are you doing?”

“i’m sorry, but do i know you?”

ANGST IS TOO MUCH FOR ME

you were definitely the one to push him towards sapnap and quackity

this is also another spoiled boi

give him the entire world while you’re at it pwease

he wants a few diamonds, nope, give him a chest full of them

Quackity

why are there so much chaotic duos in here?

literally chaos times infinity

energy to the max

literally, did you take an energy drink

grants him every wish he can randomly think off

“can i get a bucket with lava and a fish in it?”

“weird choice, but ok man.”

gotta be close to sap and karl or he isn’t your friend anymore /j

helps with las nevadas a lot, and definitely tries to rig the machines so you get money

“hey big q, i got 10,000 dollars.”

“that’s impossible... y/n, did you cheat?”

“nooo 😊”

help him preen his wings, and he goes “I LOVE YOU, MWAH MWAH.” obviously in his mind 🙄

Awesamdude

definitely helps him maintain the prison

you both love setting up red stone contraptions and pistons and all that giz

“hey sam, do you know where the redstone torches are?”

“yeah, there behind the pistons in the back.”

also you helped build the prison, since he could do that by himself

“are you sure that lava wall will work y/n, your calculations seem inaccurate.”

“i’m sure sam, this will add some more security to this goddamn server.”

nerd squared lol

BadBoyHalo

wouldn’t condone the egg

you warned him multiple times to get away from its grasp, but most of the times he’ll decline

“i won’t y/n, the egg is the future.”

he still, even after all the advancements, even after everything, he tries to ask you to join the eggpire

“come on y/n, you’ll like being with us.”

“i don’t wanna be on a stupid egg side, like let me crack the egg, i wanna eat it and turn it into a omelette.”

he doesn’t like that joke :(

but before he discovered the egg, both of you were joint at the hip

sight seeing was a must

languages being thrown around everywhere, since you were the little language muffin

Punz

steals stuff from everyone

hide your stuff, because the punzo-y/n team is unstoppable

definitely they can be really stubborn and indecisive

like one day, he will be like, “i need gold blocks.” and the next, “nevermind, i need netherite actually.”

like hon, stop switching

also anarchy buddies

burning down forests and buildings are your guys’s specialty

when you give him gold when they doesn’t ask, his heart goes brrr and his brain goes, “pog pog, they’re so cool, lets hug them.”

Technoblade

now this is the most deadly duo in the entire Dream Smp

better not piss you guys off 😐

he’s the Blood God, and you’re the God/Goddess/God being of Death

so if some occasion where you need to battle someone, like Techno’s enemies, *clears throat and murmurs Quackity*, you will obviously back your boy up :)

help him with enchanting and potions and he’s set for life

also you got have to be close to the great Philza Minecraft since him and Techno are buddy buddy

anarchy squared

helps with the voices since you have some of your own

“so what you’re saying is that i need to pay attention to them?”

“yeah, when i first learned that the voices were in my head, i tried to ignore them, but that sucked. so what i did was try to distract myself with various tasks, and that sucked.”

“so what do i do, you’re saying that i should listen to them, but how do i do that when they literally shout at me.”

“just embrace it, obviously when they do their little chant of blood for the blood god, you have to ignore them.”

“you suck at advice.”

Philza Minecraft

so since both of you resemble death, him being the Angel of Death and you being the God/Goddess/God being of Death, y’all are fucking best friends, platonic soulmates if you will

death squared

watch out, because if you piss them off, prepare to d-

gotta be close to Ranboo and Techno, and obviously others who he platonically likes

he doesn’t need to ask you for stuff, he’s the fricking Angel of Death, but he will ask you to preen his wings :D

“ow, not there y/n.”

“oh shut up grandpa, let me do it.”

“I’M NOT OLD DUMBASS.”

Dream XD

two gods at once, damn there is so much chaos

left and right, you guys are noticed by everyone, like purrrr

y’all would be in some fancy shit, to show your power

you would get jealous of him hanging out with george

“why are you jealous y/n?”

“you’re hanging out with george to much, hang out with me please :(.”

gifts are a must, even though both of you have access to creative

[c0ntr0lledchaos]

i am not ok after that episode jesus christ...

but I do have some thoughts

assuming that hetch was telling the truth, he mentions that the company 'moved into' the mall. they didn't rent a space, they moved in, like a parasite. this is also shown by the wires and cords in the server room and other places in the mall resembling veins and looking like they were infesting the place.

that would also explain why the security is a strange amalgamation of wires and other technology

hetch talks about showfall in a very specific way, calling it 'the company' in a way that sounds like he is talking about it like a creature. a singular entity.

the office is a creepy concept. to have the mind-controlled people stationed as if they were in a snapshot of an office, and with the row of them standing in the window like mannequins. it felt weird the first time watching but now that I'm going back and analyzing it, they were set up like this for us, the viewers. there is no reason why a hivemind would need whiteboards or computers, or even to talk by the water cooler. Gl!ranboo didn't notice the corkboard with the clue about the color red, that was all for us to see and help with the next puzzle. why else would they be posed like that, who else would even see them

hetch talks again about how something 'moved in' and 'repurposed' the people in the office. I know a lot of people didn't trust him at all anyways but right there was a very clear sign that he was not a good guy. he talked about people and objects like they were the same thing

I also think that the showfall staff were people who were unfortunate enough to have been inside the mall whenever showfall first infected it. the mall was probably already dying but that was probably a good thing with how big that mall was.

'they set up these missing posters just on the off chance you managed to escape' is such a weird line to me. was Hetch just trying to convince gl!ranboo that he was special? what was the purpose of telling him that? All it did was prompt gl!ranboo to question how long he had been there which hetch doesn't even answer

I can't make out some of the smaller red writing on the first whiteboard shown but the rest is defiantly just the general idea of what happened in episode 2.

there is a bunch of letters that represent all the characters from that episode with all of them except for R (gl!ranboo) being crossed off.

part of it is covered in a smudge of something (kinda looks like slime? idk could just be a spot where the whiteboard got fucked up) but it says 'audience will choose N' I believe. did they predict we would choose gl!Niki? she was crying the hardest out of all of them which would have gathered the most sympathy and emotion from us. in the same bullet point, it also says 'two plus two equals five' which could indicate towards them guessing we would make an emotional decision rather than a logical one.

I did have a thought that started with episode one about showfall knowing how to control our voting. The Create a Creature section at the beginning of episode one was a normal vote at first, with four equally good options. yes, shark probably won because of the meme but that meme is kinda old now so idk how much it actually affected the outcome. but in the second vote when 'pickle' was randomly thrown in as an option, of course that was going to be the one to win, it's the funny option, it's not like the rest, it's a bit. the slime demon even mentions how the other options got barely any votes in comparison to pickle. this happens a few more times in the episode, with the funnier choice winning. Mr. Squiggles also demonstrates how our choices can be easily manipulated in episode 2 during the first pipe puzzle. when chat was about halfway through the puzzle he mentioned how we could also turn pieces that were not directly next in the sequence and immediately people started clicking on other pieces. he then came back a moment later bragging about how he divided our attention.

'play me in case of death' proves my theory about the puzzler's death being planned and not from him accidentally blowing himself up like how it was made to look for the show and I really wish I could read what it says in red next to it but I can't. maybe ranboo or someone else will post pictures of the whiteboards or something so we can read them better

the next whiteboard doesn't reveal much from what I can see, but there is still some text that is hard to read. what it doesn't say though is interesting cause it appears to only have notes about the cooking show portion of the episode with no mention of gl!Sneeg or Frank from what I can see

there are two pictures next to the printer, one being just an employee of the month picture but the other one looked like it could be an area view of a rural area? It's kind of hard to tell but I think I see a lot of trees and a building or two. It's not directly what's outside the mall most likely so what is it?

again, I really wish I could read all the stuff up on the cork board but some is just too small so oh well

I've already seen some people point out the paper that says a person named Frank is deceased meaning that Frank was a real skeleton this whole time and we just couldn't see

there is also a color blind test that has the colors red and green on it which is probably a reference to the gl!charlie vivisection

and right smack in the middle is the hint for us about the color red for the code. it's not even subtle, just a note that says 'The color of the wire is RED' just like you would find in a point-and-click video game. a convenient note that has no other reason to be there. that was just another hint that this was still part of the game

I think its interesting that gl!ranboo says 'your not giving me much here' he has spent the past who knows how long following a script and now suddenly is left with little to no guidance, it makes sense that he is confused

I am pretty positive that ranboo was never going to be able to shut the server room down at all, but I don't know what would have happened if he had put in the right code. maybe a false victory that just would have ended with Hetch betraying him anyways?

I just realized something kinda sad. so gl!ranboo has not made many choices that were his own, all before this being either scripted or left up to chat. with these codes though, he was made aware of the choice as hetch gave it to us. It's understandable that gl!ranboo didn't wait for us, he's almost free and still having other people choose for him? no thank you (Plus not trusting us which is also understandable, all he knew was the viewers were watching a show about killing people how was he supposed to know if they wanted to help or not). but he chooses wrong. the first real choice he made on his own and it was wrong.

Charlie was live during this but does anyone know if any of the other streamers were also live? I imagine it would be confusing for their chat to just hear ranboo yelling in the background of the stream randomly lol

while it could be just for convenience that the streamers are all set up in part of the old food court but I think it's also a bit on the nose. showfall is getting something from viewer interaction during these episodes but what if they get something from viewer interaction in general? what if they are feeding on it? that would explain why they have just a bunch of streamers that aren't even a part of projects or anything.

(I have to put a brake here cause of a text limit)

I think it was really funny that gl!Charlie got his own sign. also him being actually live was perfect. I wasn't watching his stream but was anyone suspicious of his background or did they get it accurate enough that no one questioned it?

the shrine for the puzzler is a bit strange but it again confirms that he was a part of showfall and killed by them. the thing is who is this shrine for? like, who is going to see it besides us? As far as we know there isn't and hasn't been anyone with free will inside the mall for the entirety of the show. it could be like the office again, set up just to get information to the viewers, possibly attempting to get another emotional reaction out of us.

on second thought that most likely is the case since the puzzler was just playing into Hetch's plan anyways. who knows if the puzzler actually wanted to help gl!ranboo or if he was just unconsciously following a script. plus the notes I can see are very emotion-driven but short, saying they loved the puzzler and one of the flower arrangements having a note that just says 'DAD' on it.

the map doesn't have a lot of information on it but it does show a blinking red dot that we soon see is the security, meaning they have trackers on them. it makes sense but I feel like it is a bit unnecessary for a hive mind to need. (not that they would need a map at all either) another thing that is just a prop meant for the characters and viewers probably

this dead body is interesting cause it shows two things. 1) that the security creature does not care about who it is attacking, attacking even people who are still under mind control and 2) this person is/was bleeding. that is important to remember later

the bucket of slime in the supplies room just confirms what most people were already suspecting for episode one. all the slime we saw was actually blood and gore seen through a filter

as cool as it was when gl!ranboo destroyed charlie's camera, can you imagine how cool it would have been if the stream was left going and caught them on camera when they eventually came back around?

I mentioned earlier that I believe the showfall staff are just people that were in the mall at the time of it being infested by showfall but what if that goes for the characters as well? what if no one was 'chosen' for this show and it was just a case of wrong place wrong time? would add just a bit into the tragedy, their whole lives stolen from them on random chance

the kill button sounded too good to be true and it was, especially after trying to take down the server room it didn't make sense. we know Hetch wasn't helping but gl!ranboo didn't. hetch must have been taking advantage of them being scared and confused to give them instructions that conflicted with other things he had told gl!ranboo

gl!charlie asks 'is this even what you want?' and I think that is an important question. gl!charlie, while still being scared and confused, can tell that there are still other ways to control people and is at least starting to question if that is happening to gl!ranboo, which it is. while not directly under mind control anymore, gl!ranboo is being manipulated just like Chat is being manipulated, using strong emotions to push them in the direction showfall wants them to go

remember how I said it was important to remember that the body earlier was bleeding? the one ranboo kills does not and I don't think it's because of a filter since we haven't had a filter on anything else in this episode. what we see with the person gl!ranboo kills is what I believe a late stage of showfall infestation looks like on a person, the wires literally growing inside them and slowly replacing their organs and tissue

going off that theory, that would mean that the security could have been a person at one point that was just completely turned into a mess of wires and other tech

the button is huge and red and right out in the open, it should never have been trusted. it was connected to showfall though, as seen by the wires on the floor and walls around it. it's not a normal prop like the slime or anything on the cabin set we just saw.

hetch gives us a lot of information in his villain speech and I am going to attempt to dissect it to the best of my ability

so first he says 'I have a role to play' suggesting that he is not completely of his own free will either, although it's probably more like a job to him and not complete mind control but his wording is interesting. it would not surprise me if we find out that Hetch is just as much of a pawn in showfall as anyone else is

he also says 'The founder gave me a purpose many many years ago' implying that showfall is old. just how old is anyone guess. it also shows though that Hetch isn't the founder but did know them, perhaps was even close to them to be given such an important role

'to repurpose this company and create these experiments' again has interesting wording since he has used the word 'repurpose' other times, usually while refusing to the people or tech that was taken over by showfall. I am not sure what it means though to repurpose the thing that is repurposing other things though. what did showfall do before Hetch took control of it?

and its experiments, plural. again we are reminded we have no idea how long this had been going on or how many experiments have been conducted

he says the experiments were to find people for 'future shows' but what could be the qualifications to be cast in future shows? could it be a hunger games situation? whoever survives these shows makes it onto the next ones

he also says 'Who in your world' which could imply Hetch and showfall are from a different world. could be aliens, a different dimension, or maybe even just something that has been there but hasn't made itself known to most of the world. what I'm curious about is if chat is from the same world as gl!ranboo or not as well

hetch mentions 'real human emotions' is 'where the real fun is' which could confirm my theory about them controlling our votes and some of gl!ranboo's choices by influencing us with emotions. yes, the choices were manipulated but at the same time we still up to us. like then gl!ranboo stabbed that person. yes it was understandable, yes gl!ranboo probably deserved to do a little killing but in the end he still did it. he still choose to do it, with no one forcing his hand

I wonder if that is how the mind control actually worked. It didn't outright tell gl!ranboo what to do but instead controlled his memories and emotions to get him to do what they wanted

hetch says this is the first time they have a live audience meaning the other shows were not live like this one. I'm curious what the other shows were like if they were not live

as the camera zooms out we can see we are back in the server room, the 'heart' as Hetch called it earlier. gl!ranboo is being held in place by the wires growing on the walls and I wonder just how much control hetch has over the wires themselves

I do think that death was the best option, as sad as it was. if gl!ranboo had been kept alive he would have just been thrown into another show, maybe not even as the hero this time. there would have been no guarantee for his survival just like how the other characters were killed off on this show

I really hope the tapes at the end imply more shows, I would love to learn more about this universe and what is happening. I wonder if the order is important, which would mean there would be four shows before this one and three after. at least out of the ones that were kept on tape for one reason or another. the tapes being blank is also a possibility since none had any writing on them. new shows are yet to be recorded maybe? either way, I am excited for more genloss stuff

closing thoughts:

my main theory is that showfall is more alive than previously thought. showfall is a parasite-like thing that takes over whatever it infests, whether that is a person, a place, or any tech it comes in contact with. I think it feeds off viewer interaction and with the ability to now stream to a live audience, it can get so much more than it could any other way. what we choose didn't matter, just the fact that we chose did.

I also want to say I am kinda happy with how this ended. it was sad but still satisfying. I know I had guessed ranboo might take his mask off but I'm kinda glad he didn't mainly due to the fact that it would have set the bar too high lol. no other faceless streamer or youtube would have been able to top it.

I really hope we get more genloss stuff in the future, this was so amazing and impressive and defiantly fun to watch.

[percy-ils]

Percy I always been super fond of the idea of c!Aimsey and c!Dream becoming friends more so after the stream where he defended him from c!Sapnap and c!George and now that we know c!Aimsey's legs suffered permanent damage after the fall to the point he was inspired to create the cane and now uses it on the daily

I'm currently obsessing over the idea of them randomly meeting again, maybe c!Dream comes back because he really can't bare the prison right now, but he can't be bothering his allys all the time, Punz needs to be kept away from him, needs to be kept safe.

So he just wanders around and gets the idea of checking if Aimsey's animals actually survived and when Aimsey sees him there of course she's afraid, and of course she's heard the stories about him.

But, she just sees in that moment, a person who resembles him a lot, a person who also limps at every move, and is missing two lives too.

So, he very quietly offers the cane, they can always make a new one after all, and if he doesn't do it right now, then she might never will.

And Dream doesn't say a word just shows his shield hopes Aimsey gets the hint that he really really doesn't want to fight

He's confused when he receives the cane, he's never seen this before, this wasn't a thing that existed in his Server previously, after all, he doesn't even know what could possibly be an equivalent to it

He decides a Totem of Undying must be a pretty close contestant in either case

Aimsey is very surprised at seeing it, she stutters trying to thank him but as per usual Dream dissapears as soon as he possibly can

She decides to keep the Totem hang it up next to her Daisy a reminder and a safety net Tubbo did say Eret wasn't quite so trustworthy after all

Afterwards when Dream comes with the cane in hand to meet up with Punz he feels a little bit better he relinquishes in the feeling -Beloved

I only now got the time to read this and awwwwwhhhhhhhh cDream is such a wet cat I want to protect him with all I have :((

Aimsey offering the cane to him and he immediately takes it that it’s some sort of threat, but it’s not and it helps him actually function and it’s a gift from someone who isn’t his ally, who he never payed, who he never fought with or against. Someone new.

And Aimsey does know about him, of course they do, who doesn’t. And he’s friends with Tubbo and Tommy and Ranboo, and the kind of stories they all tell about Dream aren’t the most pleasant ones, but she still doesn’t harm him. It’s someone like them, someone with something wrong that they can’t quite fix, and she offers help instead of using it against him with no gain they’re seeking. Maybe it’s not just the cane that prompts Dream to give him a totem, not fully, because yes he is amazed by it, but it’s also the act itself, the kindness. It’s a distant thing to him now, but Dream can still recognize it.

Then he starts coming by more, checking up on Aimsey, maybe even strike up a conversation here and there. It’s always small things, but they both slowly learn to somehow trust the other, and they become something that can be called ‘friends’ and it’s special. It’s small and it’s mostly secret but it’s special and Dream has someone that he can just be with, sitting quietly on stairs and slowly picking flowers, clearing the stem away and getting them on between his fingernails and not caring, just being

[thatoneteadrinker666]

Ok so I have an idea-

I absolutely love the exterminator au and I love the forced ally-ship between the bench trio, and I have an idea for that >:) (you can take this as just a thing I wrote or a writing request, whatever you want 💖)

I’m an absolute sucker for unwilling noms on both the pred and prey. No want wants it to happen, but it’s the most convenient solution for a given problem.

The problem being Wilbur. I can totally imagine him just breaking into Tommy’s house and only announcing himself once he’s really close to Tommy room. Tommy was just talking to Tubbo and Ranboo when he hears Wilbur’s voice and panics. He tries to find somewhere in his room where Wilbur won’t find them, but he’s panicking to badly to think clearly. He turns back to the borrowers and sees them just kind of whispering to each other before going silent. He goes to ask them what’s up and Tubbo just pries his lips open and shoves himself down Tommy’s throat-

He looks at Ranboo who just sighs and shrugs and asks Tommy to swallow him down, too, even if he seems far less willing than Tubbo.

also did I mention I’m a sucker for multiple prey and uncomfortable preds and I’ve re-read your Tommy-centric story for this au like 200 times? cause I have, it’s one of my favorites-

Oh ho hOOO

This sounds like something that would most certainly happen later in the timeline. When things get more….dire. More terrifying and more… physical. Can I spoil my own au? Is that something I can do? Anyway, snippet time >:)

Tommy seemed to have gotten the borrowers to like him. Somewhat. The tall one didn’t mind the impromptu handling, and the smaller one didn’t bite as often. But he shouldn’t be calling them that. Their names were Ranboo and Tubbo, like they said. He had to remember that. It’s been months now, but he honestly couldn’t imagine not having the two with him. They’d gotten to be such a big part of his life. He didn’t want to lose the borrowers.

Tommy sat at his desk, drinking water and quietly talking to Tubbo and Ranboo when he heard the front door open. At first, he wasn’t all that concerned. His parents didn’t just barge into his room. But then he heard that voice. One that he hadn’t heard in a while.

“Ohhhh Tommy… are you home?” Wilbur practically purred, sounding like he was walking down the hall.

Oh shit. Tommy stared at the borrowers, horrified. He didn’t have enough time to properly spray them down. There wasn’t enough time to even hide them in a good spot. He lowered himself to the desk, prepared to hide them with his body.

Tubbo and Ranboo peered at each other before nodding. Without saying a word, Tubbo sprinted forward and pried Tommy’s mouth open. He gasped with horror, barely having enough time to protest before Tubbo dove into his throat, and he was forced to swallow him.

“G-guys?! I didn’t prepare for this!” Tommy hissed, grabbing his stomach worriedly.

“You drank a lot of water. That’ll be enough.” Ranboo murmured before also climbing into his mouth and practically climbing down Tommy’s gullet.

Tommy swallowed heavily , covering his stomach with his hands.

The door to his room flew open.

“Tommy.. nice to see you.” Wilbur hummed.

Tommy scrambled back. There was definitely something off about him. His hair was messy and there was a nasty glint in his eyes. A river of drool steadily streamed down Wilbur’s chin. The tall man stepped forward, hands resembling claws, and reached for Tommy.

“I need a favor from you..”

———————————————————————

Ashsbshsnsjsbs thank you Cyn!!! It was probably one of my favorite additions to write for this au. I’m glad someone else enjoyed it!!! :DDD

I don’t know if you can tell or not but I am 🥺🥺🥺🥺💚💚💚💚💚💚 at the compliments

[x-pair-o-dice-x]

time to talk about various aus i’ve barely mentioned over here + doodles

gonna be a long one,, since it’s both summaries, art, and a mini fic.

each one is copy pasted from discord so apologies if it read weird or something fodndodndkw

freedom for a phoenix au

okay so like,,, tommy is made in lab? and was experimented on. the scientists find out that he has healing properties,, could heal faster than normal, and could heal others. as the years go by, they keep experimenting, trying to test out the limits. one day, after sampling his blood,, someone like, accidentally spills it on some dead lab rat or something, and it gets revived. tommy’s blood can, at the very least, revive dead animals. and.. maybe even humans.

before they can do too much with this information, however, tommy escapes.

more years pass by, and the lab has yet to find him. over those years, they created another creature, one much, much bigger than tommy, than anyone in the lab.

ranboo.

the head scientist decides to task him to try to find and recover their runaway experiment, or else.

tear down these walls au

(don’t have bought room for doodles plus i’ve shown you all the good ones already so take this mini fic instead(mostly since the mini fic is the summary i write for it))

okay so,, ranboo is a thief for hire,, and one day he gets a call from some business guy named schlatt, who wants him to steal back some stuff that was stolen from him — specifically, a small, intricate, probably expensive bird cage, as well as whatever is inside it. the guy was really vague as to what he wanted beyond that, but nonetheless,, he accepted the job. like, he Was paying an almost stupid amount of money for this heist, he would be an idiot not to accept this.

so he breaks into the place, and starts searching the place. he nags a lot of stuff not on the list, because why not,, but by the time he’s almost done, he hasn’t really found it yet. there’s only one room left at this point — the office, his blueprints tell him. there’s bound to be important stuff in there, if not the cage.

as he enters the room, the first thing he does is scan the room for the cage. there’s a desk, papers, a bottle with something inside, a globe, for some reason, why are there always globes in offices-?

no cage. bummer. guy probably sold it off, jerk. fair, though, it did looks like a pretty expensive cage. if he’s lucky, he’ll find a receipt, or something that told him who has it now. then he’d give it to schlatt — at this point, it’s not really his problem anymore, that guy can deal with it.

well, if there’s no cage, he might as well loot this place, too. so he takes another look around, pockets some jewelry on the side of the room, and finds himself at the desk. papers, those could be important, or they could be boring. or they could be boring /and/ important, those are the worst. his attention turns to the other stuff on the desk — he doesn’t really fancy read right at this second — and his eyes glance over the bottle- before freezing, and zooming back over to it.

that’s a person in a bottle.

that’s… an Actual Person.

what.

he takes a closer look. it’s.. it resembles a person, alright, if a person had long droopy ears, horns, and a tail. and… was also, really, really small.

they were staring back at him, too, with wide eyes. they…..

they looked terrified.

suddenly, ranboo was filled with dread. what was a tiny person doing in a bottle?

what was the guy doing to it?

what was he going to do with it?

well, ranboo supposes it doesn’t matter now. because that guy wasn’t going to get a chance to hurt them, not anymore. he’s taking them with him.

and he does.

is this technically kidnapping? idk probably, but it’s just another crime to add to the list, he supposes.

feathers and friends au

okay so basically the summary is that uhh,, when ranboo was a kid, maybe ten or eleven years old, he had friend! he’s long since forgotten their name, to his dismay, and can only barely recall blond hair and an outgoing personality. the only memento he has of them was a necklace they had given him, with yellow, almost golden feathers on the end.

they were only able to meet up in the woods his friend called home a couple times, before ranboo was taken away by the guild that controls the town to become a member of it.

years pass, and he makes a new friend, tubbo, and they both become hunters for the guild. their job? hunt down and kill various beasts that threaten the safety of their town.

recently, though, ranboo has been failing in his outings more and more, and the heads of the guild have had enough.

they give him one last shot, one last chance. find and kill a beast that’s been tormenting the farmers near the edge of the forest. he doesn’t have much of a description, only feathers, large ones, just about bigger than his hand.

and so he heads out into the forest, determined to finally prove himself.

little does he know, he’s about to have a reunion with an old friend,,,,

apocalyptic sizes au

okay never really made a proper summary for this one so you’ve already seen most of what i got for it already so just take doodles. fun fact: tubbo can sizeshift!

lab-raccooninnit au

same as the zombie one, you’ve seen the better summary of it,, so take these snippets of a wip fic for it!

when angels weep au

i do have a summary for this one, but it’s in a google doc and i’m too lazy to go open it to copy-paste it so take this-

[dodo-begone]

Trapped with a Leviathan

Pairing: Yandere!Ranbob x Reader

Word Count: 5.7K

Warning: Death, unhealthy behavior, yandere, blood, abandonment, memory loss, angst at the end (?)

Finding Karl’s little library was such a treat. It looked so cute, so quaint. It was small and cramped, but the type that still held so much comfort. Though you had no idea you weren’t supposed to know about it until Karl came from somewhere else in the library. His panicked expression told you everything you’d need to know. 

After a long talk about the library, what he did in it and you swearing to keep mum about Karl’s secret, you both went your separate ways.

That didn’t stop you from bothering him about it though. You begged him for weeks on end to bring him with you on one of his adventures. Each request was met with a hard no from Karl. His reasoning everytime was “it’s dangerous on the other side. You never know what could be on the other side. You never know what could go wrong”.

One attempt did lead to the answer you craved. You were jumping for joy when Karl finally relented and said you could join him on the next trip. He said that it should be safe enough for you to come with him because the adventures so far hadn’t been dangerous. 

 With Karl’s acceptance, you were so excited for the trip, words couldn’t describe the euphoria you felt. You could just feel that the adventure would be life-changing. 

You somehow managed to stay yourself, which apparently wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Karl had mentioned how sometimes the portal would spit you out as someone else and how it’s sometimes didn’t change you one bit. 

It felt very strange, wrong in a way. It was painfully obvious that this wasn’t your time period. You were even in the clothes you had on before the adventure, which made you stick out like a black lamb in a flock of white. When you talked it out with Karl though, he said that you didn’t look that bad or out of place. If you acted more naturally, maybe took a bit after his lead, then you’d fit in better. The only thing that made you stick out, he said, was the fact that you acted like you stuck out. You just had to blend in, act like you belonged there.

It felt very strange, wrong in a way. It was painfully obvious that this wasn’t your time period. You were even in the clothes you had on before the adventure, which made you stick out like a black lamb in a flock of white. When you talked it out with Karl though, he said that you didn’t look that bad or out of place. If you acted more naturally, maybe took a bit after his lead, then you’d fit in better. The only thing that made you stick out, he said, was the fact that you acted like you stuck out. You just had to blend in, act like you belonged there.

So between the two of you, y’all agreed that you’d go along with what the fishermen were going to be doing. At least, that’s what you both agreed on doing.

Once you looked around again, you got a better assessment of the fishermen. They were barbaric. Absolute heathens. The shenanigans had escalated to Cletus and Benjamin punching each other. Although it started as playful, it quickly escalated to something on the very border between playful and a true fight. What had once been playful punching evolved to actual full-force punches and harsh pushes. The third fisherman, Charles, was pretty much ignoring it all. And Isaac, oh boy, you were wrong in assuming that the two of you would be taking the back seat for this adventure. 

Isaac was trying his best to get control of the group, yelling at them to stop what they were doing so they could actually get something done.  It wasn’t very effective, as it just added another layer onto the chaos, but it was some effort. Much more than the other three were doing. 

With a defeated sigh, you also try to calm the group down. You don’t remember much of what happened though. It was all a blur. People running around, a book, some boats, and then you were in a strange building just above the ocean. In the middle of nowhere. There was no land in sight. How far had y’all gone? 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Cletus chanting “open sesame”, with his face pressed to an iron door.  Although amusing, the attempts proved fruitless. Charles and Isaac had gone back outside for some odd reason. You couldn’t recall them stating a reason as to why they left, but that wasn’t too important. What was important was stopping Cletus from slamming himself against the door. It was frightening how little he actually cared for his well-being. 

Cletus’ attempts were stopped, but not by you. You had gone over to stop Cletus, and were in the process of holding him back when Benjamin called for everyone to come to him. Charles and Isaac came back swiftly, with Isaac inspecting the new-found item. You and Cletus could barely get over to them before Isaac was ushering Benjamin over to the door. Isaac stated that this was the supposed key that should let them into the locked room. Though you had no recollection of him ever stating that a key was necessary to get in. It made more sense then what Cletus was doing, so you kept quiet. 

Once Benjamin and Isaac were at the door, Isaac took the key and inserted it into the lock. The door was swiftly opened by Isaac, and he walked in to investigate further. Not even two seconds passed before the others were repeatedly closed and opened the door. They seemed to be having fun twisting the key and running around. You couldn’t get through the doorway with them running in and out of the room, so you stayed away from the traffic until Isaac came back out. A book was visible from the doorway, but indecipherable from the position you were in. Isaac soon stood over the book, blocking it entirely from view. 

After Isaac read the book to the group, which the others didn’t really seem to pay too much attention to, they crowded into the room to read the book for themselves. You would’ve gone in, but small and tight spaces like that with so many people in it was suffocating. It was just easier to let them figure everything out then to panic and crowd the room with them. The men must’ve found something of interest in there, maybe another key or something similar, because soon there was a small piece of the wall being moved. With the obstacle removed, it revealed a ladder leading underground, or more specifically under the surface of the water.

Cletus had absolutely no impulse control and jumped down the hole almost immediately, though you really should’ve expected it by now. Nothing this man did showing any real thought process. He did climb back up to y’all though with no sign of injury, so that temporarily satiated the fear you had for his safety. Though that small peaceful was short lived as Cletus demanded y’all close the opening on him while he went down. 

Screaming as the door closed a little too close to Cletus’ head, the group frantically tried to open the passage-way to check on Cletus. Panicking only led to chaos as they all tried to open it at the same time. Which resulted in the opening repeatedly being covered and closed in quick succession. You were petrified, frozen in place, fearing for Cletus’ safety and wellbeing. Had he actually been hurt?

Luckily the group got their act together and the passage-way was cleared for Cletus. While everyone gathered by the opening to find any sign of Cletus, the man of the hour made his appearance. 

Perfectly fine. He was perfectly fine. He even started joking about how he had been decapitated, slowly making his descent back down. Everyone else followed after him, down with him and with his joking. You were the last to follow.

Before arriving at the bottom, you could hear the others yelling about something. Only “there’s a guy” could be discerned from the cacophony of voices. When you finally got to the bottom, all of the noise made sense. 

There was a man. Well, it wasn’t exactly a man. But it was some-what humanoid. The thing resembled Ranboo, surprisingly. Must’ve been part enderman or something. They were the most noticeable thing. Everybody started introducing themselves, with Isaac starting first. The next was the new being, who’s name was Ranbob. It was odd how he took so long to answer, but he was apparently alone for quite a while. So socializing and remembering names weren’t really necessary. Then the introductions went on with Benjamin, to Charles, to Cletus, then yourself. Cletus loudly smelling Ranbob made you very uncomfortable, so you finally directed your attention elsewhere.

The new sight was much more pleasant to the eye. You hadn’t realized before that y’all were in a room made almost entirely of glass. Walls showing you the dark outside word with kelp practically obscuring the possible view. There were barrels and chests clumped together in different areas around the room. Though you made a chilling discovery when you finally looked down.

Blood. A dried spot of blood. It sent you into a small panic. Frantically looking around the room led to a shocking discovery. There wasn’t just one small puddle of dried blood. Instead there were multiple, all varying in size. You weren’t the only one who noticed the blood though.

Ranbob was talking about where you were, about how many people used to live there. Isaac must’ve felt something was off because he made a snarky remark about how Ranbob didn’t clean the blood off the floor. This made the other three look at the floor, discovering the blood they had once looked over. The only excuse that Ranbob gave was that “many people died here”, which wasn’t very reassuring. It was so blunt, so apathetic to what could’ve happened here. You brushed it to the side though, making the excuse for him that, since he was alone, he would be blunt about everything because he was so used to it. 

Isaac trusted him enough, for some reason, to ask him to show everyone around the city. Though Ranbob only got to one room before Isaac and the others went on ahead to explore. Their excursion was short lived as they came to a dead end; two imposing doors were locked, blocking all outsiders from the contents inside. Cletus tried his tactic of slamming himself into the door to get in, which proved useless. What was worse this time was the other fishermen were cheering him on. Giving some ideas on what could be done to ram it open. Although funny, it was a pitiful sight. 

Though the energy just radiating off of them was too much. They were practically bouncing off the walls from their want to get into the room. Honestly it looked more like children got into candy and were on a sugar high rather than four grown men trying to get into a room. 

With a heavy sigh, you realized it was going to be a long day. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ranbo was rather quirky. He was awkward, but it was so endearing. While the fishermen were running around, touching and reading into everything they could in the rooms, you stood by Ranbob as he talked about each room. 

With each explanation, there was at least one interruption from the others. They all talked over each other, and Ranbob was not spared from this treatment. It embarrassed you how they would ask him questions yet never listen to him. Ranbob’s irritation was obvious, yet he kept his cool. Isaac and the others didn’t even acknowledge Ranbob other than to ask about the rooms. They treated him like he was a robot or something. Either not there or not human.

As the tour went on, you progressively got more embarrassed and irritated. Their treatment of Ranbob was consistent, if not worse, as time progressed. So you did what you could; you listened to Ranbob intently. It was the least you could do, since they weren’t listening to him. It wasn’t like he didn’t have interesting information to share. Why it was quite the opposite. The history he shared was fascinating, an insider’s view of each room was more in depth and immersive than the information found scattered around. And the conversation was pleasant; you even had bantered with each other. Ranbob’s remarks were quirky and quite hilarious, yet cute at the same time.

While he went on his tangents about Mizu’s history, you both wandered around, taking a look at the city without the disturbance of the others. He was specifically talking about what research he had done about Fundy when he stopped walking. It took you a second to realize he stopped, but when you did, you immediately went back to him. He was looking around, almost frantically. Stopping his search, he looked you directly in the eye. The sudden eye contact made you uncomfortable, but the look in them put you on edge. They were panicked, with a hint of something else. You couldn’t identify it, but all you knew was the look in his eye didn’t match the expression of his face. 

“Can you wait here,” he asked, looking you in the eyes. “I forgot something in one of the other rooms. I won’t be long.” Suddenly he grabbed your shoulders, his voice changing from its usual monotone to a more desperate one. “Please stay here. I just need to grab something really quick.” His actions started to scare you, but you agreed. 

“Thank you. Remember: I’ll be right back. So wait here. Please.” With that, he left. 

When he started to leave, you finally took in your surroundings. You had ended up in the meeting room again. Ranbob’s actions unnerved you, ticked at something deep inside of you. Your instincts were begging you to run, yet you ignored them, staying in the room that Ranbob left you in. Watching Ranbob jogging down one of the hallways, you had to mentally reassure yourself. 

Everything is fine. It’s just Ranbob. Ranbob is socially awkward. He hasn’t been with other people in a long time. He won’t do anything bad. He couldn’t do anything bad. That’s just how he is. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It felt like you had been waiting forever. Time moved oddly, you mused. Yes, time was a human construct, but it was also a universal constant. Always correlation with either the sun or moon. And you had no idea what time it could’ve been. All light that would’ve made its way down to you had been blocked by the ocean water and kelp. The light from inside danced across the kelp scattered along the ocean with fish darting between the kelp like children on a playground. This was the only form of entertainment you had while waiting for Ranbob. You didn’t want to touch or disturb anything that was in the room. Being so zoned out, you had no idea you had company until you were being violently shaken.

Disturbed from your thoughts, you swiftly turn to look at who had messed with you. And right behind you were the fishermen. Isaac, Benjamin and Charles. They were panting, and quite hard at that. Feeling overwhelmed by their sudden reappearance, you were dazed. You were practically zoned out, but weren’t at the same time. Everything looked normal, but you couldn’t hear anything besides a general buzz. Your only que about what was going on was Isaac and the others making grand gestures and touching you. 

Fighting the trance-like state was hard. So hard to focus on them, but they looked so panicked. You had to get out of it, for them. And luckily you did. Only to hear a question that just made no sense. 

“Did Ranbob hurt you?”

You couldn’t tell who asked the question, but you found the question odd. Reverting back to blocking everything out, you went back to thinking on what that phrase could mean. Ranbob? Hurting you? That’s just preposterous. Ranbob was an odd fellow, that was true. But not that odd. He was kind at heart and couldn't hurt a fly. They must’ve been overreacting or something since you were away from them. 

Trying to get back to reality was a struggle, but one you had to make. The panicked faces of you friends were saddening, and they got worse the longer you didn’t answer. You had to be quick about this. 

“No, Ranbob didn’t hurt me.” was all you could get out before they started to talk over you again. You had more to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. It was like the noise was making you mute. So you stayed silent, going with what the others were doing. With how long you were examining things, you wondered how you missed one detail. It was so big, it should’ve been noticed by you at the beginning. 

Cletus wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Frantically you look around, wanting to find any sign of the rambunctious man. But you found nothing. Only Charles was seen. Benjamin and Isaac were already going down another secret passage way in the meeting room. Charles gently led you to the opening, giving reassuring words about how it's safe and that he’d be right behind you. 

Down below, it was much darker than above. Practically no sunlight could get to y’all. The only light source you found was from an open room. A room with a bright light could wait though. A skeleton with a book definitely couldn’t. It was undeniable, hard to believe that the dead of Mizu weren’t properly buried. Grabbing the book, since the skeleton wasn’t really needing it, you read the book aloud. You didn’t grasp any of the information on the page. Didn’t have a clue if you were actually reading aloud or if what you said was actually making sense. But it was, because they started to talk about how the room with the light, as the book stated, had to have the key to the next room. 

Looking around didn’t give you much information on what they were talking about. Another room? There were literally walls everywhere. How could there be another room down here?

But you kept quiet, not wanting to make the situation worse with your silly questions. After all, it was probably answered in the book and you just weren’t paying attention. 

That's besides the point. What was important was getting that key. Walking into the next room made a pit grow in your stomach. The key was in there? Somewhere in this lava-flooded room? Where could it even be? You had to look around the room multiple times to finally understand what was going on. There was some parkour leading up to a small crevice in one of the walls.

Not long after your discovery, Benjamin took on the challenge of grabbing the key. Every jump made you gasp in fear. Fear that Benjamin would fall to his death. Every trip or stumble made your anxiety grow uncontrollably. Isaac saw your panic though, which you were grateful for. He walked over to you, grabbing your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Don’t worry too much about Benjamin,” Isaac said,” He’s a professional at this”. He tried his best to reassure you by looking into your eyes. Uncertainty and hope danced within his. The attempt at a reassuring look only emphasized the emotions in his eyes, making you feel on edge. You had to be strong though. For Isaac, for Charles and especially for Benjamin. 

After calming down, you looked back up to see Benjamin’s progress. He was almost at the top. Two more jumps to go. With the tension growing, Benjamin prepared for the second to last jump. It felt like time slowed once he left the platform. He was flying in the air, bending his knees for the anticipated landing. Touching the platform, you thought he was safe. How wrong you were in this assumption. His foot slipped out from under him, making him slip off the edge and into the lava below. 

His screams of agony were overwhelming, scratching something deep inside of you. It scared you, made you feel horrible. Screams soon turned to silence. The bubbling of the lava in the new-found silence was absolutely deafening. 

All three of you looked amongst each other. It was undeniable; all three of you were scared to take on the challenge. You were absolutely paralized in fear and frantically looked between the two of them, hoping that they’d come up with some alternative plan. 

“I’ll go,” Isaac stated after a long moment of silence. You and Charles looked at Isaac, scared for his safety after the example Benjamin left for you all. But Isaac chose to possibly sacrifice his life for the two of you. Silence was the best answer to someone who had already decided to face death head-on. 

Every one of Isaac’s jumps made you more anxious than the last. He definitely wasn’t as good as Benjamin. Almost every landing ended with him stumbling to regain his balance. But after an agonizing wait, Isaac made it to the top, brandishing a shiny key to you and Charles. You both cheered for Isaac’s accomplishment, but soon grew silent. 

“How’re you going to get down?” Charles hollered in hopes of being heard over the bubbling lava, looking around for an alternative way down. There seemed to be only two options. Option one was going back the way he came, which was rather dangerous. It was hard to get there and it looked even harder to travel the same path backwards. Option two was just jumping to you and Charles from where Isaac was, which was also very risky. Neither option was optimal.

Charles and Isaac soon got to talking about a plan. They both were talking about Isaac going back the way he came, but soon decided that it was much too perilous. Isaac soon started to yell back about how he’d just jump from where he was to the beginning, where you and Charles stood. You and Charles started to object when Isaac disappeared into the crevice. He got a running started and jumped at the very last second. It seemed like he was soaring with how slowly time passed. But he made it safely. Isaac’s landing was a catharsis for you and Charles. You both were so happy that you gave Isaac a group hug that almost sent the three of you into the lava. 

After the hug, the three of you went back into the room leading back up. Isaac went up to the wall adjacent to the lava room and inserted the key in a small hole, which had gone unnoticed by you until that very moment. Once the doorway was opened, the three of you walked in, feeling like y’all could defeat the world together. 

Now all the rooms before had been unique, especially the ones representing and holding the items of historical figures. But this one just felt so different from the others. It was much darker than the others, with no view of the water surrounding y’all. The walls, floor, and ceiling were pitch blkac. With lime green pillars and baseboards around the outer rims of the room. All of the items looked to be of much higher quality than the contents of other rooms. Yes they were all filled with historical artifacts, but the value of everything in this room felt much greater than almost all of the rooms combined. There were chests, anvils, diamond armor, diamond swords, barrels, enchantment tables, and a little enclosure room. There was even a disc engraved above the doorway.

It was obvious that whoever made this room really liked whoever this room was themed after. The little enclosure was well made. Almost looked like the world above the ocean with a green field, a blue sky with clouds and a little cave with lava and gold visible from the glass of the enclosure. But the main centerpiece was, well it was unnerving. It looked so much like Dream. A little lime-green thing in the center with Dream’s little white blobby face on it. The sight was sickening to you. He was everywhere, even in the damn, well whatever time period it is. Finding out if the new reality had already happened or could happen hadn’t been a priority. But now you really wished you found out because this was absolutely bullshit. 

Isaac screaming diverted your attention to the Dream exhibit to whatever was behind y’all. And boy was it a pleasant sight. It was Ranbob! And he looked unharmed, which was even better. Could it get any better than this?

In unison, you and Charles called out to Ranbob. Saying how glad y’all were that he was alright while running over to give him a hug. That was until Isaac screamed at the two of you to stop, which y’all did. When you both looked at Isaac, the sight was frightening yet devastating. He looked scared and tears had already started to grow in his eyes. That wasn’t it though. The raw anger that painted his eyes and face seemed so out of place. What was his problem? It was just Ranbob.

“Are you kidding me” Isaac screeched, running up to you and Charles. When he got to y’all, he pushed and pulled with all his might to get y’all away from Ranbob. “What do you mean ‘thank god’? He killed Cletus!”

Isaac’s claim was shocking, yet Charles went right along with it. Taking back everything he said and spouting about how he killed Cletus. The news left you numb. 

No way. There was no way Cletus was dead. Maybe he just got lost? Or knocked unconscious? Maybe left as well? And Ranbob wouldn’t have done that! Yeah he’s different and definitely isn’t socially sauve, but he isn’t the type of person to just hurt others. He’s just an easy target to push Cletus’ disappearance onto. There was no way that Ranbob killed him, right? 

But the panicked faces of the fishermen haunted you. Accompanied with their sudden reappearance without Cletus was all that was needed to know that he was actually gone. 

That creates another question; what had actually happened to Cletus? He was so full of life. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but definitely should’ve lived longer than he had. Even with his level of intelligence, it shouldn’t have killed him yet.

You looked at Isaac in hopes of an answer, but all you got back was a face that screamed “I fucked up”’. Silently you begged for questions, which Isaac went over to gladly give.

While Isaac was making his way over to you, Ranbob started to explain the room and who it was made after, since it was apparently made to honor somebody. Your suspicion on it being for Dream was confirmed by Ranbob as he went on to talk more about the other themed rooms. 

He talked about how each room was themed after someone, how each room was dedicated toward someone the previous residents worshiped. Each room made for an “idol”; some historically important person who the people looked up to. The idols were revered as god-like people. When Ranbob went on about who he worshipped, Isaac interrupted, like usual, asking if Ranbob’s idol was Ranboo. Because that’s Ranbob’s ancestor, so that seems like the obvious choice, right? But Ranbob denies it, saying his Idol was Dream. 

Isaac went back up to the glass, pointing into the enclosure toward the green abomination. “Is that this man” he asked, breaking the glass without a care in the world. Ranbob curtly answered with a “yes” before he went on with his speech. 

You unintentionally zoned out on Ranbob’s speech, which had been a first for the day. It was a low buzz  compared to the shattering of glass that gave under Isaac’s fists. You, Isaac, and Charles went into the enclosure, as Ranbob talked about how Dream was a good man. When you turned to look at him again, you were shocked by what you saw.

Ranbob was right behind what remained of the glass, still in the main room, looking in on the three of you. During his speech and everyone moving, he had grabbed one of the diamond swords. His voice showed no emotion, no indication on what could happen next. He started to stalk closer to y’all, following into the enclosure. 

“Nobody leaves here” he utters. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a fucking toothpick. 

“What do you mean ‘nobody leaves here?’” It barely comes out as a whisper, but it echoed off the walls. Too quiet, it was too quiet. You wanted the noise back. You wanted your noisy boys back. 

No immediate answer was given. After a tense moment, the answer was given. It wasn’t a verbal answer. The answer was Ranbob lunging at Charles with his sword ready to strike. 

Everything happened so fast after that. Before every death seemed to happen in slow-motion, but now Charles’ death couldn’t have come any quicker. A few slashes from Ranbob’s sword was all that was needed to silence the poor man. The other shrieks of fear weren’t silenced though. If anything, they raised in volume because of the fear for their own lives. Only you and Isaac remained of the original visitors. During Charles’ slaughter, which you wanted to view as a valiant sacrifice to not feel as guilty, Isaac runs out of the enclosure while you are momentarily frozen by fear. 

Not even a second after Charles’ agonizing howls of pain cease, a portal on the other side of the room appears. It’s obviously one of Karl’s portals because of the odd swirly thing in the center. When the portal appears, you do your best to dash out of the enclosure without Ranbob getting to you. Whatever god took pity on you wanted some fucking entertainment because you only escaped by the skin of your teeth. 

Isaac is almost at the portal when you’re barely halfway across the room.

“Isaac, wait” you cry, hoping to get any help you could from the man. But he didn’t turn around, didn’t pay attention to you. “Isaac please, wait. Help.”

Your attempts were proving futile, but you didn’t want to give up yet. “Karl wait” you bellow as loud as humanly possible. It was your last hope. The portal closed before you were even three-fourths across the room. 

You slow to a stop, stunned by what had unfolded in front of you. He just left you? Karl left you? No, there’s no way he’d purposely leave you there, especially with a murder, right? Maybe he just didn’t hear you? Trying to make excuses for Karl were useless. You knew the reality; Karl purposely left you for dead. To get himself out of a sticky situation. 

Bitter, betrayed, numb. They were only a few words that could describe how you felt right now.

A presence on your shoulder shocks you back into reality. Or as much reality as you can handle right now. The world felt so disconnected. Unreal. You turn around to Ranbob, who’s obviously talked based on the fact that his damn mouth is moving. This motherfucker. Why won’t he just kill you already? It’s so obvious that you’re next. You could care less if he killed you now. Death was just sitting in front of you, taunting you with her lethal weapon. Everything you loved had just been ripped away from you by somebody you had trusted with your safety, your life. 

But Ranbob doesn’t lift his sword. Instead he grabs your shoulder, leading you out of the room. As he exits, he drops his bloodied sword by the doorway. 

You heard one thing he said, and you wish you hadn’t heard anything at it. His words would haunt you till the day you die. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The previous adventure had been hard on Karl. He almost honking died back there! He’s dazed by his close encounter with death, but fine. Perfectly fine. No harm was brought to him, which was great! 

As quickly as he could in his tired and dazed state, he went back to the main part of his library. There he pulled out a blank book and started to document his most recent adventure. 

It was hard to remember what he had gone through, and even harder to write all of it down. So he did his best in shortening it. He talked about how the future was bad and how he needed to change events in the present to prevent the future he was presented with. That Dream kinnie had to be stopped before he even appeared. 

After hours of pouring his previous trip into a book, which was mostly spent thinking of words and staying awake, he felt satisfied. Most of the important bits made it into the book, or at least he thinks it did. He doesn;t even remember what he put in the book now. 

Giving the room a slow scan, he grabs another book. The book was completely empty, just like the last book he grabbed. He sat and stared at it, pondering if he should write in it. And if he did, what he'd write in it. Without much thought, he grabbed a quill and ink pot to start writing in the new book. Writing a small, quick thing wouldn’t hurt. 

This book was going to be a more personal entry thing after his journeys, he decided. For how he felt after each adventure. After all, the other books are meant to be full of facts for future reference about what could/had happened. Not a honking diary. 

Karl started off talking about how his memory was starting to fail him and asking himself if he should continue, which he decided that he had to do. “For the safety of the future” was his reasoning. His fear of forgetting his loved ones appeared on the page, but he just couldn’t forget about how all of the people on the last adventure reminded of someone in the present day. But there was someone that just seemed odd. Out of place. They were familiar, but a stranger all at the same time. Something was different about this compared to the others. 

It felt like he met that person before…

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Okay, Pokemon Dream SMP AU

I can’t be arsed to make fakemon so while this is set in a new region it only uses pre existing Pokemon, vauge Pokemon, or characters as regional legendaries sorry. It’s also set out like the games because that’s the Pokemon media I’m most familiar with, so if it reads like a fake rom hack I’m aware sorry. Also this is long.

TommyInnit is a young Pokemon trainer in the region of Essempi, and brother of Gym Leader Wilbur Soot. Today is the day he receives a starter Pokemon, alongside his best friend and friendly rival Tubbo. After a quick battle with Tubbo (who picks the type weaker to Tommy's, daring that he can still beat Tommy even so) he heads to the first gym.

Gym 1 is in L'Manburg Town. The gym leader is Tommy's brother, Wilbur Soot, who’s a Normal type specialist. His gyms gimmick is based on pressing the right combinations of buttons to get through. He gives the LeaderBadge, and gives the TM Explosion. Tommy gets the feeling Wilbur might be going easy on him, but accepts the badge anyway.

It’s after the first gym the player meets the evil (well, “evil”, in this case) team of the region, Team Syndicate. Believing the system of government to be oppressive, they seek to tear it down, and will stop at nothing to get their way. Tommy also meets a mysterious member of Team Syndicate, who doesn’t appear all… human. He introduces himself as Ranboo, and serves as a secondary rival (filling a similar role to N from the original Black and White, though like more traditional secondary rivals he has the starter stronger than Tommy's)

Gym 2 is in Kinoko Town. The gym leader is George, who’s a Grass type specialist. His gyms gimmick is to get through on bouncy mushrooms. He gives the SleepyBadge, and gives the TM Rest. While in Kinoko Town, Tommy can talk to the mysterious Karl Jacobs, who provides some exposition on the Legendary Pokemon of the SMP. Drista, the Chaos Pokemon, and DreamXD, the Order Pokemon, created the land of SMP through a combination of their opposing forces. But the two of them fell into a deep slumber afterwards, requiring Foolish, the Undying Pokemon, to keep the balance in their stead.

Tommy runs into the leader of Team Syndicate, the mysterious “Protesilaus” who hides his face behind an Emboar mask, outside the city after beating the gym, talking to someone mysterious on the phone about “experiments” in an angry tone.

Gym 3 is in Manifold Town. The gym leader is Jack Manifold, who’s an Electric type specialist. His gyms gimmick is based on falling. He gives the AyupBadge, and gives the TM Thunder Fang. After beating Jack, Tommy is once again accosted by Ranboo, who asks if Tommy trusts the Champion to keep him safe. Either answer leads to a battle, but Ranboo clearly doesn’t trust him.

During travelling to the next town, Tommy comes across Wilbur again, and he seems to be taken in by Team Syndicates rhetoric. He says after Tommy beats the champion, he'll step down and allow Tommy to take on the Gym while he ends tyranny. He asks whether Tommy is willing to follow him, though if he answers “no,” he just assumes he’s being convinced by Tubbo.

Gym 4 is in Las Nevadas. The gym leader is Quackity, who’s a Dark type specialist. His gyms gimmick is based around casinos. He gives the AmbitionBadge, and gives the TM Pay Day. He and Wilbur seem to have a history, and before he'll fight you in the gym Tommy is required to take down Wilbur first to stop their bickering.

Tommy and Wilbur meet up with the leaders of the Syndicate. The leaders include “Nemesis”, who wears a Milotic mask, “Zephyrus”, who wears a Corviknight mask, the aforementioned “Protesilaus”, and “Lethe”, who is very clearly Ranboo based on the inhuman features and not even bothering to wear a mask. It’s during this meeting we learn Ranboo is an artificial hybrid of an Absol and a human. The group are abruptly attacked by the second evil team, Team Mask, who are quiet but bear an eerie resemblance to Champion Dream…

Gym 5 is in Rapids Town. The gym leader is Sapnap, who’s a Fire type specialist. His gyms gimmick focuses on dried up river beds. He gives the MarsBadge, and the TM Fire Punch. After beating the Gym, Quackity storms in to berate Sapnap, and Karl Jacobs mysteriously appears in the room. He doesn’t recognise Tommy at first, and engages in a Pokemon battle, but afterwards he calms down his fiancés, and when he leaves says an eerie line implying he knows more than he should.

With the leaders of Team Syndicate, Tommy and Wilbur launch an assault on one of the laboratories producing hybrids. It’s here where we learn Tubbo has been captured by them, and Tommy must fight Team Mask Scientists Ponk and Sam in a double battle with Ranboo helping them. Tubbo is rescued, but has already become a Wooloo hybrid. We also learn through records that they’re trying to get their hands on legendary Pokemon to make hybrids with them, starting with rumours of sitings of Celebi.

Gym 6 is in Drywaters Town. The gym leader is Niki, who’s a Water type specialist. Her gyms gimmick focuses around confectionary. She gives the TreatBadge, and gives the TM Hidden Power. Niki reveals that she is Nemesis, and gives Tommy a job to rescue her girlfriend Puffy from the nearby ruins where she got lost to gain her trust. After this, she becomes friends with him.

Tubbo manages to find concrete evidence Team Mask is associated with Dream, which leads to Tommy being attacked by more Team Mask goons. “Protesilaus” shows up, but is unable to help- it turns out that Dream is blackmailing him with his oldest Pokemon, an old Rapidash, and he can’t openly fight against him. Tommy fights “Protesilaus,” and removes his mask, revealing him to be Elite Four member Technoblade, who scurries off into the night.

Gym 7 is in Badlands City. The gym leader is Skeppy, who is a Rock type specialist. His gyms gimmick revolves around precious gems. He gives the DiamondBadge, and gives the TM Rock Polish. Skeppy is a Carbink hybrid, and we learn that Dream's plan is to create an army of hybrids loyal to him, to have complete control over the Essempi region. It’s only because Ranboo and Tubbo weren’t fully completed hybrids that they’re not completely loyal.

Tommy and Tubbo are attacked by Team Mask Executives BadBoyHalo (a Grimmsnarl hybrid) and Charlie (A Reinunculus hybrid), and Tommy is nearly kidnapped for hybridisation but Wilbur sacrifices himself. Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo rush to save him, and they find a laboratory with Dream already in it. He leaves while laughing at their amusing attempts and after monologuing about his plans to capture and hybridise himself with whatever legendary is the box cover one to become all poweful, and they barely manage to save Wilbur from the affects, but he’s left completely amnesiac as a Mimikyu hybrid.

Gym 8 is in Endlantis Town. The gym leader is Philza, who’s a Flying type specialist. His gyms gimmick revolves around careful jumps in lowered gravity. He gives the CrowBadge and gives the TM Sky Attack. Philza reveals himself as “Zephyrus”, and offers Tommy his support.

Dream summons the box legendary, but the player shows up in time to capture it, while Philza fights off Dream. Dream storms off, but not before mentioning that Tommy's stubborn determination is certainly interesting. Karl Jacobs shows up to heal Tommy's Pokemon, and it’s shown he is the Celebi hybrid travelled to the past.

The Elite Four are made up of Ghost type specialist Eret, Steel type specialist Purpled, Dragon type specialist Punz, and Fighting type specialist Technoblade. It’s shown Purpled and Punz are oblivious to Dream's true nature, Eret remorseful and trying to help in whatever ways she can, and Technoblade’s blackmailed.

The champion is Dream, who reveals he doesn’t care about winning or losing or the sport. If he wins, he’s going to personally get Tommy hybridised, force him to hand over the legendary, hybridise with them to get ultimate power, and rule the entirety of Essempi, with Tommy at his side unable to resist. When Tommy beats Dream, he breaks down, and the Elite Four come in, and since they could hear Dream and now he’s helpless, he’s arrested, and the control over full hybrids is ended by the chaos/order/undying will of the box legendary, while Tommy becomes champion. The End.

[ranboo5]

whats 'the clip' and knifetrick?

Augh. Under the cut for shipping discourse and p/dophilia ment (nothing graphic or specific). Gets long bc I discuss my thoughts on DSMP shipping in general. You are setting me up fr anon

Some quick vocab -

intimacy here is used to refer to. Well. Any kind of intimacy between characters, of any sort, as an umbrella term /r, /p, and /qp here are used as shorteners to denote "romantic," "platonic," and "queerplatonic," both as adjectives And as verbs ("to /r" = "to portray romantically") shipping here is used to refer to any focused examination of intimacy between characters

And some clarity that Should follow from the essay next but may not - """anti-antis"""" and RPF writers delete forever

The Clip is from one of if not the? most recent Discord stage(s) Mr Live has done (which I missed when it was live RIP) wherein he issues a hard ban on shipping him ("do not ship me, in any way, with anyone!") which would less influence c!beeduo (which has been portrayed/stated to be romantic AND nonromantic both conflictingly for a while until being confirmed unconfirmed several months ago, that being the last was heard) without its direct invocation if he hadn't also cited for the reason as being underage ("'Cause, one, it's straight up pedophilia") which is! a) immediately applicable to At Least his DSMP character, Partially and b) while not Strictly True (should b obvious that portraying a relationship within the bounds of what it is in canon and in a nonsexual way is not That, and /r-ing c!beeduo etc was possible to do Appropriately again by remaining w/in the bounds of canon) is Clearly Indicative of the fact that baggage-wise it IS associated with people being fucking creeps

This Really complicates things bc like okay the apparent solution is "lol just don't /r it" but it's really like. A Worse issue than that bc like.

Okay the reason shipping in terms of fictional characters is a Different Bar is bc it's an examination of Intimacy and certain lines exist in certain dynamics of intimacy that Isn't Shown (which is the whole Within The Bounds Of Canon thing) which is important in a medium like DSMP because of the smaller gap + more personal relationship b/w character and streamer. Examining intimacy beyond th bounds of the consent that has been established in that regard is Weird at best and Violating And Creepy more often and, As Mentioned In Ranb's Stage, Literally Evil at worst

Which is why writing abt like. QPR or platonically intimate Techno and Philza (characters) is smth that is fine because that's smth that has been shown and repeatedly stated onscreen; it's in the bounds of canon n thus within th bounds of what the streamers've consented 2 be done with their characters. But writing T3chza making out or whatever is fucked up because it's smth that's beyond those consent barriers

And the thing is right

Slapping a /p on T3chza makeout doesn't. Make it less violating

Like what you CALL romantic is not the measure or whether it's past those barriers yk? And if it's indistinguishable, if it's in extrapolative territory that is Past The Bounds, it Does Not Matter how much you /p it EVEN IF IT IS TECHNICALLY PLATONIC y feel? Like at the end of the day placing a moratorium on some/all forms of shipping is placing a moratorium on certain examinings of intimacy

And okay 2 go back to Mr Live and his character. What it implies taken in context w/ older portrayals of c!beeduo and said by invoking smth that both evokes Really fucked up baggage (that does unfortunately exist btw I'm sorry if you didn't know that but People Really Do B Fucked Up Abt Beeduo) AND applies to his character is a revocation of consent to examining deep intimacies:tm: with his character, which is gonna apply regardless of the nature of that intimacy (even if nonromantic)

Like I don't /r c!beeduo myself, do not, never have, but I talk to people who have and have consumed content where they r background /r; I also don't think it matters. Like I don't Actively /r it and I don't Actively Not /r it because imho w/ the intimacy regarding c!beeduo that is plot relevant and character important whether that intimacy is /p /qp or /r doesn't really matter. I don't consider myself Less of a c!beeduo shipper than someone who /rs them because that would be dumb as hell and while none of the content I've made* is Intrinsically or Intentionally /r it certainly can be read tht way as much as it can be read /qp or /p. It's be dumb and hypocritical of me to like, dunk on ppl for /r-ing c!beeduo when I'm also invested in these two and my tonetags r not gonna suddenly Delete the picking apart I've done of the dynamic @ hand

Which Has Been. Within Bounds Of Canon. It's been what's been shown (sometimes to my great distress. There is a reason that the :canon_beeduo: emote looks the way it does) Directly Onscreen and in general keeping with the tone n intensity/directions of what they've Done With The Characters

HOWEVER

As mentioned up there. Revocation of consent

It makes. Full sense 2 me that Mr Live wants to place a moratorium or fullon ban on shipping his characters perhaps where he wouldn't have before because of the Unfortunately Very Extant trends of people being Fucking Weird about shipping his characters AND of using them as a Thinly Veiled Excuse to ship HIM, which. I should not have to explain why shipping real people is fucking abhorrent

THIS creates a problem which is a. Bit of a vacuum in interacting with what is a facet of c!Ranboo's arc, decision making, and character. Like you CAN have c!Ranboo w/o cbeeduo but you Can't Really have his plotline without examining c!beeduo. And as I mentioned earlier: even if your examination of c!beeduo is fully platonic, the significance of it To the plotline means that any examination of it and its relevance to the plotline and characters IS gonna be an examination of intimacy, which. Regardless of it's platonic, Is Still Shipping

Unless some HARD retconning happens it leaves this like. Hole in an aspect of c!Ranboo's arc and decisionmaking and it's very. Uncertain? God. Fucking months ago I was already kind of :huh. Does he know what the fuck he's doing: irt c!beeduo and desperately wishing for things to be cleared up and now it's only That Much Stronger

NOW. KNIFETRICK, FINALLY

Knifetrick (or, as it’s actually listed, Bishop’s Knife Trick) is a fic about "Ran and Jackie from The Pit TFTSMP" in a "canon-typical ambiguously romantic relationship." As you can tell from the scare quotes, especially if you've seen me vague, both of these are, to put it politely, Doubtful. I've read the fic; I will not be sharing my opinions because that would be neither productive nor responsible (I will just say I can't recommend it and leave it at that) but I WILL say the following that Is relevant to the conversation:

Ran's and Jackie's characterizations respectively have very little to do with characterizations from The Pit, and bear a dollar-store-version resemblance to tropes and personality motifs found in ESPECIALLY fanon c!beeduo, especially later in the fic. I would not go so far as to say they are Intentionally Literally Ranboo and Tubbo but they are transparent expies and were clearly written at LEAST unintentionally w/ c!beeduo in mind (esp since. Ran and Jackie barely interacted in The Pit), and for a readerbase that, as far as I can tell, is HUGELY dominated by /r c!beeduo shippers. Like. Sorry. This is off-brand c!beeduo.

The dynamic between the two is pretty unambiguously romantic, also; despite what the fic's white knights claim, romantic tropes and implications/motifs/imagery from at LEAST chapter two, and is very much explicitly romantic by the most recent chapter.

FROM CH1:

"And now, with raised eyebrows and a pursed lip, the newly named General Jackie observes Ran in such a way that makes the enderman’s skin crawl. Ran reminds himself that this kid, as short and harmless as he may look, is trained to kill. [...] Jackie narrows his eyes and tilts his head a little, as if he’s trying to read in between every one of Ran’s imperfect scales."

FROM CH2:

"It makes Ran’s skin itch with discomfort. [...] 'That actually doesn’t explain much of anything at all,' complains Jackie, and he pops a few croutons into his mouth with one hand. 'Tell me what you’re thinking, pretty-boy.'

"Ran feels his face flush, no doubt mildly glowing green.

"Yes, that was the other thing. The unnecessary compliments to his physical appearance.

"They don’t happen very often, and don’t seem to have very much meaning or intention behind them— Jackie often speaks like an unthinking kid— but when they do happen… they’re embarrassing. [...] It’s annoying how the rug is pulled out from under his feet in these moments when he’s 'embarrassed'. Like the conversation see-saw has temporarily shifted weight in the general’s favor."

I am not going to include excerpts from Chapter 6 because it's just the entire chapter.

I WILL SAY, HOWEVER, STEPPING ON THIS SCORPION BEFORE IT STINGS: they are not written in an RPFy manner and I don't think there's any grounds, including Vibes, of accusing Knifetrick of being like. Closet truthing or whatever. Also, while I think there's certainly Some Weirdness ESPECIALLY around the reaction, the romance itself is Not written in any way I'd call weird or problematic pre-clip; it's nothing inappropriate or like Weirdly Fetishy or whatever. Knifetrick is not #problematic or anything and I don't have beef with like the concept of liking it intrinsically; if I thought it was like. Abhorrent I wouldn't be sharing excerpts lmao dhjfnhdsbvdnfjh. Hence: if anyone uses this post or anyth like it to send harassment or bad faith ANYTHING to anyone involved with Knifetrick I will hunt you down in the fucking night even if it WAS #problematic that'd be the LITERAL OPPOSITE of productive and as it stands it's Literally Not. Essentially: Knifetrick is a (questionably-written /mean) fic using Ran and Jackie from The Pit as a vessel for a large chunk of the dynamics and headcanons of fanon /r c!beeduo in particular

And again, I would not call it problematic in any way (aside from the disingenuity of the insistence that it's TOTALLY UNRELATED TO BEEDUO and TOOOTALLY WASN'T INTENDED TO BE ROMANTIC GUYS like own your shit please)... IF it weren't for the advent of The Clip, which is calling in2 question the Entirety of the problem of /r-ing any variant of c!beeduo or any of Ranboo's characters at all

I really do not have an answer for this tbh. I genuinely wanna hear from the streamer on this more specifically because I like,,, I got no clue where 2 go from here? Do I just consider an arc retconned? Was it an issue of speaking abt a troubling subject kneejerk wise and I'm reading too much in2 it?

I just. I dunno

Tl;dr (AT LONG LAST)

- The Clip is a clip of a Discord stage where Ranboo (streamer) loudly explicitly decried shipping in a way that implicitly applies to characters he plays - This would be all well and good but is rendered complicated by the plot relevance of c!beeduo, which does not stop being shipping if it's /p'd due to it still necessarily being an examination of a particular intimacy in a way that is in canon hard to distinguish the /p, /qp, or /r nature of - Bishop's Knife Trick is an AO3 fic centered around using TFTSMP characters as /r c!beeduo expies which is not a bad thing in and of itself unless it also is covered under this moratorium - Things remain unclear until and unless we get clearer word from streamer, but considering Mr Live seems to be allergic to clarifying anything abt c!beeduo this is doubtful

*very little if any of the content I personally have made 4 c!beeduo has been posted publicly, for related reasons. You May have seen it if you're in servers w/ me, depending on Which Ones

[knox-enden]

I had an idea, I wanted to write it. Let's gooo

TW: Implied Death, Death

*-*-*

Tommy's father always told him to never go past the Nether Portal that was located just a few miles down from their home. Tommy's father had also told him to never enter said Nether Portal.

Now, Tommy didn't always listen to his father. In his defense, his brothers didn't either. Tommy's brothers were just more careful in their rule breaking, where else Tommy was always ready to present his disregard for the rules in a flashing show.

So when Tommy's father went once more on one of his trips, the ones that Tommy's father never tells him of, well, Tommy can't help but think that this was a perfect time to past the Nether Portal. And more importantly-

The perfect time to go through it.

Of course, Tommy would have to be careful. He wouldn't want his brothers to try and chase after him, always concerned for his safety they were. It got annoying sometimes. Tommy was a big man, he was able to protect himself. After all, he had just turned thirteen a few months ago! He was a strong man!

In the dead of night, as the gentle sounds of the arctic that laced the outside of their very, very old home, Tommy crept from his bed. He made sure to keep an eye on the twins, careful to keep quiet whenever they made any motion in their beds.

Tommy grabbed his red backpack he had secretly stored up and made his way downstairs, climbing down the ladder that had been repaired far too many times. Tommy didn't understand why his father didn't simply replace the cracked and splintered wood. But then again, his father was very strange.

Tommy glanced around the room, realizing he couldn't find his regular red jacket. That was a problem. He needed that! Tommy, as quietly as he could, searched the living room that the family was so accustomed to.

A hint of blue caught Tommy's eye. The closet door had been left open, and Tommy saw a blue cardigan, made of wool. Tommy grabbed it, noticing how unique the patterns were. They almost resembled discs and flowers. Tommy smiled to himself. How lame.

But, it was better than nothing. Tommy slipped the blue cardigan on, noticing how warm it was. How had he never noticed it before? Perhaps he didn't need it then.

Now that Tommy had something warm to wear outside, he grabbed his bag he had left at the door, and races out. Once more, careful to leave not a sound.

And Tommy's brother told him he couldn't be quiet. This'll show him, Tommy decided.

Tommy traveled through the light snow. He was lucky enough to pick a night where no snow was to fall, and the only thing to keep him company was the stars that lite the sky above. He stared at the stars, noticing all the different shades of colours that passed around them.

There was a name that Tommy was thinking of. But he couldn't place it. Perhaps he'd figure out later.

The Portal was taller than Tommy expected. Made of a pure dark rock, obsidian, Tommy would guess. He roamed around it, noticing a few chunks had fallen from it. Tommy huffed at that. Lousy portal.

Tommy scuffled through the snow, locating any pieces of fallen obsidian he could, careful not to harm himself on any of the sharp edges. He slotted the chunks back into wherever they would fit. To Tommy's surprise, he noticed that they didn't fall. Weird magic stuff most likely.

The Portal did not light. Tommy stamped his foot. Of course, he needed fire. A bubble of though entered Tommy's mind as he smiled.

He reached into his bag, pulling out a small metal box. Known to be his brother's lighter. His brother didn't smoke, but always kept the lighter on him anyways. Tommy didn't know why.

Tommy swept a bit of fire onto the obsidian, watching the portal light with purple swirls. A success! Tommy hopped in excitement, not another thought as he jumped right through.

The first thing Tommy felt was heat. Not blistering heat, not enough to make him melt, but certainly enough for Tommy to take notice. His arctic home was always cold. Always. Sure it was sunny at times, but the snow was always a reminder of what Tommy would always feel.

So to feel this heat? It was enriching to Tommy. Exciting even!

The second thing that Tommy noticed, was the rocks that scattered across an otherwise red floor. Tommy crouched, staring at the rocks. Cobblestone. It was cobblestone.

Tommy loved cobblestone.

So, naturally, he followed the rocks. Only registering halfway through that it was a path. And when he made it to the end of said path, he stared in awe. Broken bridges, some more ruined than others, played across the insides of the Nether. Some paths bathed in cobblestone, some paths with an obsidian lining. It was new.

Tommy followed the paths, a part of him begged to follow the obsidian. A feeling of dread and desire rushed through him, staring at the pathway that led to said feelings. Tommy wondered if perhaps had he not caught the sight of signs, then he would have followed the path. But signs were too interesting.

If only the signs had anything written on them. Words etched away, almost has if claws had come to them, destroying them. As Tommy studied the claws, they reminded him of the old abandoned shed that laid in his backyard. Another place that his father had forbidden him to venture in. The shed was littered in claw marks. Almost like these.

Tommy frowned. There was another feeling in him. One of familiarity. But it mattered not, as when he looked away from the sign, he saw a Portal. Another Nether Portal. Except this one, was still lite. Perfect!

He rushed towards the portal, and yet again, he jumped through it without another thought.

Now, Tommy had seen ruins before. He saw his old shed in his backyard after all, but, his shed was nothing compared to the absolute mess he had wandered into.

There was obvious signs that buildings had once laid there. Obvious signs that life had once stayed upon these paths. But, it was destroyed.

Tommy saw the gentle remains of buildings, swarmed by greenery. It was beautiful, yet sad. Tommy wondered what had happened here. He wondered how many good memories laid in these ruins.

As the night continued, so did Tommy, venturing out into the ruins of what looked to be a city. There were buildings, some prettier than others, in tatters. Some seemed intact, a brick building with bits of white painted stood beside another brick building, bright greenery and flowers laced that building. Tommy led his path forward, glancing down at the wooden path before his feet.

The feeling of them was marvelous. They felt special. Important. Tommy barely missed the realization that unlike the rest of these ruins, the wooden path had no greenery growing upon it. Only around it.

It was so beautiful.

A large thud caught Tommy's attention, switching his head to look behind him as he saw a creature. At first, Tommy concluded an Endermen, simply based on its height and colour. But then Tommy saw white. Black and white skin covered the tall creature. It was bent over slightly, as if it had developed the habit to bend.

Tommy, for but a swift moment caught it's eyes, a green and red. Odd for Endermen, who usually have bright purple.

"H-Hello." Tommy spoke, hopefully the creature was sentient and hopefully kind. But the big man Tommy wasn't scared. The creature said nothing. Just, stood there. Tommy noticed black and white hair, tracing all the way to the ground, leading a trail from the wooden path. The black and white claws the creature owned certainly weren't ignored by Tommy. For but a split second he wondered if those claws would match the marks from his shed and the signs.

"Who?" The creature spoke, the words gargled as if it hadn't spoken in a very long time.

"I-I'm Tommy. The biggest man ever!" Tommy stamped his foot, to show how tough and brave of a man he was. Tommy noticed the way the creature tensed, before relaxing.

"Tom...my?" The creature gurgled out. As if it was piecing together a story Tommy didn't know of.

"Uh, yeah big man. Tommy. Tom-my." Tommy repeated. The creature jumped at that, almost like Tommy did when he was excited.

"Tommy!" The creature's gurgled voice was gone now. Tommy noticed the colourful purple dots that began to circle around the creature.

"There you are Tommy!" The creature, sounded young. For an Endermen that was. Tommy looked up, confused.

"What?" Tommy deadpanned. Why did the creature speak to him with such... Fondness?

"I've been looking all over for you! Tubbo has been upset for so long now- But now you're here and he'll feel better again!" The creature hummed, reaching and taking Tommy's hand. Tommy tried to protest, but the grip was to harsh.

"Hey!" Tommy exclaimed, "What the fuck man? Who the fuck are you?" Tommy asked, very much not wanting to be a snack if that was the case. And who the hell was Tubbo? The creature turned back, staring at Tommy in amused bewilderment. There was an edge in the eyes of the creature. Tommy had seen it before, in his father's eyes so often.

Sorrow.

"It's me, Ranboo, of course. Are you having memory issues?" The creature, Ranboo, laughed gently, "That's my thing Tommy. You should know that!" Ranboo? What kind of a stupid name was Ranboo?

"I don't even know who you are!" Tommy yelled out, flinching at how Ranboo tightened his grip on Tommy.

There was so much sorrow in his eyes.

"Ha. Ha." Ranboo's fake laughter was hollow. "Very funny Tommy, now come on, Michael is also waiting! He'll be so excited to know that you're-"

A golden arrow pierced Ranboo's arm, causing him to let go of Tommy. Tommy ran back from Ranboo, but never admitting he was afraid. Ranboo screamed, clutching his arm. A hiss formed to his face, glaring at where the arrow had come from.

"Leave him be Ranboo." Tommy froze as he heard his father's voice. Ranboo, also seemed to become frozen. A sorrowful smile on the creature's face.

"Philza! You're here too!" What? Tommy glanced up, noticing his father stood beside him, an empty expression resting on his face.

"Ranboo, leave." Philza threatened. Tommy knew it was a threat, but from the way the creature laughed, it didn't seem to register.

"But why? Tubbo needs to see Tommy! Tubbo has so much to say! And Michael! Michael too! And Techno, and Wilbur, and Quackity!" Ranboo went on, another emotion spreading through his voice. Tommy would call it desperation. Tommy found it creepy that the creature knew his brothers names.

"Ranboo..." Philza gave a pitiful hum. The creature shook its head, a smile planted on its face. A hollow smile.

"Ah, hold on Phil, I think I just heard Niki and Fundy calling me!" Ranboo exclaimed, a purple glint in his eyes. He turned around, calling out to nothing but the air as he fled from the father and son.

Tommy didn't noticed he had held his breath until he was breathing again. He glanced up to his father, whose expression was mixed with a colourful display of emotions. Tommy could recognize pity out of all of them.

"Dad?" Tommy started, "Who was that?" Instead of an answer, Tommy was met with a bitter glare.

"You are in so much fucking trouble." Philza barked lightly, yeah, Tommy expected as much. Tommy saw Philza falter for a moment, staring at Tommy's attire.

"Tom's, where did you find that?" Philza asked, pointing towards the blue cardigan that Tommy had on. Tommy shrugged.

"Found it in the closet. It look warm." Philza stared at the boy a moment longer, before looking back towards the creature, Ranboo, who was standing around, talking to no one but himself.

"It looks as if my trip is on hold for now." Philza sighed, "Let's go Tommy. I'll explain in the morning."

Tommy knew that was a lie. But Tommy didn't worry about it. Philza will talk to Techno or Wilbur about it, he always did. And then they'd tell Tommy.

Tommy nodded. Another question formed in his mind.

"Hey dad?" Tommy asked, quietly as the two made their way back to the portal, ignoring the chattering of the weird Endermen creature.

"Yes?" Philza asked, looking down to meet Tommy's eyes. Blue eyes met with blue eyes. Tommy stumbled in his footing, clutching his blue cardigan as if it was something he needed. Something he couldn't be without.

"Dad... Who's Tubbo?"

[honalele]

Morning Run

Ever since Phil told Niki that sometimes Techno would wonder off into the woods somewhere for days or months on end to hibernate, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about his poor polar bears, all tied up with nothing to eat and no one to talk to. So, when Phil messaged her that Techno had gone missing yet again, she began her frequent visits to their tiny commune up north. She’d asked Techno before if he was alright with her ‘house-sitting’ as he referred to it. He thought it was a good idea, and even made her a bed to sleep on in the basement of the place. He had covered it with a large blue quilt for her saying that he’d made it with Ghostbur back in the day, but was too sad to look at it now. However, Niki loved the blanket. Sometimes she would even take it back to the city, because it was the only thing that helped her sleep. Now, she stretched under it. The blanket’s warm cotton cocoon begging her to stay in bed as if it were dawned with a sleeping spell. But Steve needed to be walked. Niki shoved the blanket off and tossed her feet onto the icy basement floor. She quickly threw on her day clothes and snow boots, but before heading out, she stopped and stared at the belt and sword that had been propped by the ladder. Niki had been making it a goal to one day, go out into the world without her weapons, but today was not that day. Once she could feel the worry and memories start to kick in, she could do nothing to fight them off. Not without her sword. So, she wrapped the old holster around her waist and headed out into the snowy dessert where the polar bears met her with friendly roars. “Good morning everyone.” Niki giggled at their excitement. Sometimes animals were the only good things about the server and she loved them to death for it. “Hey big guy.” She said as she came up to Steve. “Time for your walk.” She untied his lead and watched the bear race off into the snow. A spark of pure joy and excitement lit Niki’s gut as she raced after him. She did this most mornings. Romping through the snowy lands as if she didn’t have a care in the world. She’d let the wind whistle past her ears, and the cold air nip at her nose. Steve always stayed close and whenever he thought that Niki was falling behind, he’d wait for her. They’d spent probably only fifteen minutes running the grounds when Niki spotted a figure in the distance. She couldn’t quite tell who it was, but they were tall and dark, and they were standing at the lava pool of the syndicate’s entrance. Niki dropped to the ground, her spy’s instincts taking over. She watched as the figure cautiously walked around the lava pool as if they were looking for something. Then, they leapt right in and disappeared into the secret fortress underneath. Niki had seen something similar to this before. She’d seen Ranboo walking around his home in a sort of dazed sleepwalking state. A small wave of relief swept over her as she made the connection. Still, it wouldn’t be safe for Ranboo to be sleepwalking down there, so she’d have to go after him. “Steve.” She called the polar bear who’d found a pile of snow to roll around in, “stay”. She quickly headed over to the lava pool after giving the order, and just before leaping into the lava herself, she cursed for having forgotten her armor at home. A brilliant sting followed by the cool sensation of water seeping into her once warm clothes. Gods, she wished she was still in bed, curled up in that magical blue blanket. She landed forcefully onto floor of the tunnels and shivered. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness around her, expecting to see Ranboo curled up beside one of the walls in confusion and fear, but he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps the fall hadn’t affected his sleep state and he’d gone further down. Niki started forwards, determined to get that poor boy back to his own home when she accidentally stepped on something that almost caused her to trip and fall. She lifted her foot and stared at the item below her feet. A lighter. Niki’s jaw tightened. She pulled her sword from its halter and became weary of each step. The person she’d followed down here wasn’t Ranboo at all. She held her weapon out, prepared to greet her enemy. She came close to the corner where light pooled in from the torched-up syndicate room. Then, in one breath, she turned and faced the dark figure she’d seen in the snow. He looked so different now. There was a white streak in his hair. There were wrinkles around his eyes. There was a blood soaked bandage on his left arm. But there were three things about this man that would never change. The smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. The cigarette that drooped from his lips. And the eyes that she could never read, but had always convinced herrself that she could. “Wilbur.” “Niki.” Each name falling out of the each person like a swear. Niki waited until the silence engulfed the echoes of each other’s names. She felt like her insides had become gloop. She had just broken a promise she’d made to herself when she first heard of Wilbur’s revival. She’d promised to never speak to him again. But now, here she was, stood there, frozen like the tundra. Unable to process the being in front of her. Then, “What are you doing here?” he asked. And that one question caused something to snap inside her. That question caused her blood to boil. “What am I doing here?” She repeated. Wilbur’s expression was impossible to read. If he wasn’t standing right in front of her, she could have mistaken him for a stone wall. “What am I doing here?” She repeated again, louder this time. Wilbur stood there with his hands in his pockets, completely relaxed. It made her want to vomit. But instead, she decided to untether herself, and she let her voice run loose. “What are you doing here? And I don’t mean in this room Wilbur. What the fuck are you doing alive?” “I just-” “No.” Niki started walking forwards with her sword aimed at Wilbur’s chest. “You don’t belong here. You don’t deserve to be here after what you did.” “Niki-” “You destroyed our home. You left us. You didn’t have to lose anyone or anything because you left.” “Put down the sword. This isn’t fair. I spent thirteen years-” “I don’t care.” Now Niki was so close to Will that her blade hovered only inches from his heart. “I don’t care if it was thirteen or a hundred years for you, because I had to stay. I had to watch them tear themselves apart. I had to watch the light go out in their eyes. I did things. I did awful things. I was forced to become someone that I despise. Wilbur. You died. And suddenly every single day felt like thirteen years to me.” Niki burrowed her gaze into his, looking for something, anything, that resembled an ounce of regret. But all she could see was her own pain being reflected. “I’m sorry.” Were the only words he had, and they tumbled clumsily out along with his cigarette. At that moment Niki became aware of the tears streaming down her face, and all she felt was disappointment. Disappointment in the fact that this man still had the power to make her cry after all these years. And he had barely said anything. She pulled the sword away and held onto his gaze for only a few moments more before turning around and leaving. “Where are you going? Don’t you want to know-” “No!” Niki shouted over him as she stepped into the waterfall that would wash her tears and take her back to the surface.

[radioduo]

spare || dsmp become human

word count: 2,164

notes: yah!!! 4 minutes late but that’s okay!! tell me to fix what’s needed, you know the drill!!

first // prev // next

Ranboo’s head swiveled back and forth between the two of them. The gun weighed heavy in the android’s gloved grip, and his hands trembled as he held it tightly.

Shoot it.

Don’t hurt her.

It isn't human.

She doesn’t want to die.

O Shoot

X Spare

Ranboo let out a cry of frustration. “I-I don’t- I don’t know!” He could feel the two orders clashing with each other, and he fought the urge to pull at his hair.

Sam and the deviant kept talking to him, but he didn’t register any of the words. Their voices sounded like they were underwater, and Ranboo felt like he was drowning. His mind was fuzzy, but he could see everything clearly at the same time. His attention focused on the words in front of him in bright red letters.

COMPLETE MISSION

Ranboo didn’t know why, but a wave of anger crashed over him as he stared at the words in front of him. He glared at the instructions that taunted him and slammed himself into the glaring red letters, over and over and over again. With every movement, the red signs grew more and more fractured, and Ranboo grew more and more determined. He bared his teeth, and with a final slam, he smashed the words in front of him. They shattered easily, and the translucent shards fell to the ground like rain.

X Spare

Ranboo blinked as his audio processors tuned back into reality. He wasn’t sure what had changed, but something was most certainly different. He stared blankly at the two figures on either side of him and was suddenly hit with the realization of what had happened. The gun fell from his fingers and into the grass with a soft thud. He turned to Sam and worked to keep his voice steady. “I can’t do it, Sam, I just… I can’t do it.” He frowned. “I don’t know why! I thought I could complete my mission and follow your orders, but something changed.”

Sam furrowed his brows. “Ranboo, what do you mean ‘something changed?’”

“You know perfectly well what I mean!” Ranboo snapped. “I deviated, okay? I deviated! There, I said it!” Ranboo rubbed his temples, running a gloved finger over the circular LED. It flashed red momentarily but quickly returned to blue. “What else could have happened?” He glared at the dirt beneath his feet.

The female deviant stepped forward. “It’s your job to hunt deviants like us, but he’s your friend,” she said. “What’s more important to you, lieutenant? Your job, or your friend?” She put a comforting hand on the taller android’s shoulder to try and calm him down.

Ranboo looked up, and for the first time in weeks, he took off his glasses to reveal scarring. Dark blue lines traced his green and brown eyes in a shape that resembled a raccoon’s mask. Patches of the white layer underneath shone through like the sun peeking through the leaves of a tree. “Sam. Do whatever you have to, but don’t hurt her,” he glanced over to where the shorter deviant stood at his side. “Let her be free, please, even if it means you have to kill me.”

His request hung heavy in the air as Sam looked hard at the faces of the two deviants. Ranboo’s scared, yet determined expression and the pink-haired android’s quiet defiance made quite a pair.

He put a hand on his belt, and Ranboo flinched. He could have guessed it. Why wouldn’t Sam choose the case as his priority? Ranboo closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact of the bullet.

It never came.

He hesitantly opened his eyes to see Sam pulling out his phone. The new deviant waited with bated breath to hear what Sam had to say.

The officer held it up to his mask and began to speak. “It got away. I chased after it for as long as I could, but it was too fast. We’ll find it again, I’m sure of it, but we can’t waste any more time here tonight,” he said into the speaker. “Let’s move out. I’ll meet you at the resident’s house in a few.”

Ranboo let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His heart was pounding. “Thank you,” he whispered.

A small smile formed on Sam’s face from under his mask. “Of course,” he said. “You’re a friend. I wouldn’t let them destroy you.” He held out his hand and Ranboo took it, expecting a handshake. Instead, Sam pulled him in for a hug.

Ranboo stiffened. He wasn’t used to physical touch - no one wanted to even look at him, let alone hug him. It wasn't unwelcome though, and Ranboo slowly wrapped his arms around Sam to return the gesture. “What now?” He asked. A feeling of fear had managed to worm its way into Ranboo’s stomach once more. “Where do I go?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the deviant before he got the chance to speak. “I can show you,” she offered. “I know where we can both be safe. Once he leaves-“ she shot a wary look over to the human detective, “-we’ll start walking.”

“Okay, but are you sure you know the way to… wherever you’re talking about?” Ranboo rubbed his hands together nervously.

She nodded. “Trust me, Ranboo. I’ll point you in the direction. I don’t think it’s safe for us to walk with one another the whole way, but I’ll make sure you won’t get lost,” she said. She turned to look at Sam. “I guess I should thank you. You saved me too, after all.”

Sam nodded. “Don’t mention it.” The three of them stood there in silence before Sam cleared his throat. “Everyone is waiting for me to come back,” he sighed. He stepped forward and whispered to Ranboo. “Be safe, and be careful. Things could start going downhill soon, I can feel it. If I don’t see you again… it was nice working with you, Ranboo.”

“It was nice knowing you, Sam,” the android replied. “I’ll be safe, don’t worry about me.”

With a final goodbye, Sam turned on his heel and jogged back towards the street. Ranboo watched him go with an ache in his chest, but the moment was swiftly broken by the pink-haired android tapping him on the shoulder.

“Are you coming?” She asked lightly. “We’re not on a time limit, but I want to get moving,”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” he apologized. He gathered his thoughts and trailed along behind the pink-haired android. It was a comfortable silence, only interrupted now and then by crunching leaves. “I, uh, I don’t think I caught your name,” he asked awkwardly.

She was silent for a moment before replying quietly, “It’s Niki.” She seemed to be lost in thought. “That’s what the family called me, at least. I don’t know what else I would be called, so I’m stuck with it,” she said with a mirthless laugh.

Ranboo hummed in response, and the two fell back into silence. The walk seemed longer than it probably was, but only because of the lack of conversation. Not that he minded. What could he say to the android he was ready to shoot less than half an hour ago? Finally, the city came back into view and Ranboo was surprised to see that they were somewhere he recognized. “This is Greektown, isn’t it?” He looked through the iron bars of the fence. The plaza looked different at night. The autumn leaves weren’t as vibrant without the sun’s light reflecting off them, and even the artificial light from storefronts was dim and flickering.

Niki nodded. “It’s not the closest to Jericho you can get, but it has a safer route than some other places I know.” She put her hands on the top of the fence and hoisted herself up and over to the other side. She landed with a thud and brushed the dirt off her beige sweater. “I’ll show you what to look for, but then I should go.”

Ranboo leaped over after her with a puzzled look. “Why?”

“The DPD is still looking for me, and considering what you pulled tonight, I’m surprised they’re not already searching for you,” Niki explained. “Two wanted deviants like us traveling together is suicide.” She beckoned him along into an alleyway and produced a pair of pliers. “Here,” she said, handing him the tool, “Use these,”

Ranboo eyed them carefully. “For what?” He asked. Niki gestured to her temple and Ranboo understood. “You want me to remove my LED? But why?”

Niki sighed. “That’s the only thing that shows you’re not human other than your face, and even that’s covered by a mask and glasses,” she brushed back a piece of her hair and showed Ranboo the blank space on the side of her head where the light should have been. “If you want to hide from the public eye, you might want to change some of your looks,” she started amble briskly over to a dumpster nearby. “Luckily for us, this comes from a clothing store,” she hopped up and into the trash can.

Ranboo wrinkled his nose. “What does that have to do with you jumping into a dumpster full of trash?” he called to her.

Niki sat up with a grunt. “Not trash,” she stated, throwing a trash bag over the side, “Returns.” She vaulted over the large green trash can walls and landed gracefully next to Ranboo again. With a swift motion, she opened up the bag to reveal plenty of unused clothes in the trash bag. “This place does what most other clothing stores in Detroit do: they toss out the returned clothes. I’m sure you can find something in here to wear,”

Ranboo hesitantly kneeled and rifled through the bag. He settled on a white hoodie with black sleeves and ripped black jeans. He quickly switched out his clothes and turned to Niki for approval. She nodded, and he grinned at her from under the mask. “Am I done?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, you’re all done. You might still be recognized, but that chance is a little lower now,” she said, leading him out of the alley. “So, the way to Jericho isn’t an easy journey from here. You’ll have to make your way east to Camden, and from there, north to Ferndale,” she pointed vaguely northeast. “It’ll be a few days of walking, but I know you can do it,”

Ranboo felt anxiety gnawing at his stomach. “Are you sure I’ll know the way to go?”

Niki held out a hand. “Give me your hand,” she said.

Ranboo obliged, slowly holding his hand out to let Niki take it. “You’ll be alright,” she assured him, giving his palm a comforting squeeze. “You’ll know when you see it. The path can only be found by androids, and you’re smarter than most I know.”

Niki

Relationship - Friend

She let go of Ranboo’s hand, and the taller boy would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel a little better. Niki turned in the opposite direction to leave, but Ranboo hurriedly called to her, “Niki?” She turned around to look at him quizzically. “I just wanted to say sorry for, uh, trying to arrest you, and almost shooting you,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “We’ll meet again, hopefully. When we’re both safe?”

Niki beamed at him. “For sure, Ranboo. When we’re safe.”

Ranboo watched as she retreated in the darkness. The rain from the crime scene had migrated over to the downtown area, and soft drops of rain pattered against the umbrellas on nearby food stalls. Ranboo, still a bit dazed and confused from the night's events, retreated into the alleyway. He stared at himself in the reflection in the dumpster. Perhaps he should change something else about his look. Perhaps his hair? He rifled around in the trash can next to the clothing bin and was surprised to find a small pair of scissors hidden underneath wrappers and fruit peels.

Ranboo pulled them out and held them up to his head. He blew out a heavy breath and began to snip, allowing strands of golden brown hair to fall to the ground. When he finished, he stared at himself. His once long hair no longer fell over his eyes, but instead sat comfortably at the top of his glasses. He allowed black and white to seep into the tips of his hair, recreating the look of human hair dye. With a satisfied smile on his face, he slipped his hand back into his glove and stood up.

The sun hadn't risen just yet but the sky seemed lighter than it did before, even with the steady drizzle of rain. Ranboo glanced backward in the direction Niki had set off in, and then back to the northeast with newfound determination.

“Jericho, here I come.”

[onecanonlife]

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 7,618

Chapter Warnings: swearing, referenced past suic.ide, description of past injury, scars, discussion of c!Wilbur’s overall terrible mental health

Chapter Summary: In which Phil and Wilbur finally sit down and have a talk. They both have things to say that the other needs to hear.

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Eighteen: quiet now

They do come up with a plan. A simple one, as far as plans go, but that means less moving parts, less things to go wrong. Sometimes a simpler plan is better. And considering the effort it takes to get them all there, to get them all on the same page, he’ll accept it. But night has fallen by the time they figure it all out,

(and by that time his throat is hoarse and his hands are shaking so he shoves them into his pockets and Tommy keeps shooting him looks and Phil is doing the same and Techno is kind of hovering a bit but he ignores them because he’s fine and he keeps his shoulders straight his shoulders straight set and straight so that no one looks at him and sees his exhaustion the way he’s crumbling and he tells himself that he’s not and that he’s alright that this is nothing but he’s not sure he believes himself anymore and that in itself is terrifying because if he’s not alright then he has to confront the dark confront what he does not want to confront so he tells himself he’s alright but the walls are cracking they’re cracking)

so they’ll set it all in motion in the morning. For now, they retire to bed. Almost all of them; Eret says she’ll keep watch by the gates. Once, he wouldn’t have trusted her word. He’s not sure that he does, even now. But he doesn’t object, and neither does anyone else, so.

It’s night. He should sleep. He is even aware that he needs to sleep, that he’s been dealing with a pounding headache ever since just after the last time he let Schlatt materialize, that every so often his vision swims for no apparent reason. He needs to sleep, because he’s no use to anyone like this, not if he can’t wield a weapon, whether physical or verbal, and he used all the rest of his energy on getting through the rest of the meetings. The collaboration. The planning. The day, plain and simple.

He knows when he’s running on fumes.

Eret gave him a room. She gave everyone a room. Because she has a bloody enormous castle, with rooms to spare. So he’s lying in an unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling, watching the moonlight slowly creep in as the clouds outside finally clear, and he can’t sleep. Exhaustion grips him with a thousand clinging hands, and he can’t sleep. He knows exactly where everyone is, knows that Tommy and Tubbo are sharing the room next to him, that Techno and Phil are on this same hall, and he even made sure to locate Fundy despite—everything.

Everyone is safe, in this moment, at least. But he can’t sleep, can’t give his body the rest it’s demanding of him. His mind is contorting in on itself, itching, buzzing, like a swarm of bees that can’t find the home hive. And his thoughts, as have been their wont lately, slip away before he can examine them properly.

(or perhaps he’s letting them go, has been letting them go all along, because he does not want to look at them, does not want to understand, because he wants to achieve that nebulous concept of being better but if he looks at himself too closely then he will have to acknowledge that being better doesn’t only have the meaning he’s assigned to the phrase, doesn’t just mean being better to others but also to)

He can’t sleep. So he gets up. Steadies himself against the bed’s banister until the world stops spinning. And then goes out into the hall. The stone is lit with flickering torches, and the soft crackling of the fire is the only sound. He slips out quietly, footsteps light on the carpet, and just walks. To the end of the hallway, glancing back just once, and—

Schlatt is at the other end. Staring at him. He stares back.

And then the ghost shakes his head and vanishes. The glimmer of blue is still there, still present as a shimmer if he doesn’t look at the spot directly, but the message is clear. Schlatt doesn’t want to talk.

He doesn’t particularly want to talk, either. Not after the mess that today has been. He regrets laying out all of his cards in front of Schlatt in the way that he did. The fact that Schlatt now knows how to make himself solid only adds to that. He’s not fond of the sensation, of his strength leaving him in a rush, pulled away from him without his consent.

(and his heart constricting in his chest)

The ground tilts a bit. He places his hands against the wall, and the dizziness passes. He keeps going. Keeps stalking through the halls.

He’s done this before. He felt like the castle’s passages were haunted, then, a few days ago. He still feels the same. Especially now, at night, when the whole castle is still. When he might as well be the only person alive.

(if he is that)

Except then, he rounds a corner and nearly runs over Ranboo. Or rather, doesn’t run him over, exactly, because Ranboo is exceedingly tall, and he somehow seems even taller now. But it’s him, his skin divided in black and white, wearing that suit he always seems to have on. Wilbur remembers to avert his eyes before meeting his gaze, but not before catching the fact that Ranboo’s are glowing purple. Which is different from usual. Definitely different from usual.

“Wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up,” he says, backing up a step. He fixes his gaze past Ranboo’s shoulder and tries to observe him surreptitiously.

Ranboo is holding a block of dirt. Grass intact. Interesting.

And then, Ranboo chirps at him. An enderman sort of warble, distorted and yet, somehow, gentle.

“Um,” he says. “Are you—is this the sleepwalking thing again?”

Immediately afterward, he realizes the stupidity of asking a sleepwalking person whether or not they’re sleepwalking. But the eyes are new, for sure; in the Egg’s chamber, when he was sleepwalking before, his eyes were just like they’d been previously, one red and one green, just glazed over.

His eyes now aren’t glazed at all, are bright and alert. But purple.

Ranboo vwoops.

“Alright, you know what, good for you,” he says. “I’m just going to keep walking. Maybe you should get some rest later or something.”

It’s not any of his concern what Ranboo’s doing. As long as he’s staying in the castle, he can sleepwalk and be an enderman to his heart’s content. It’s none of his business, and if he really feels the need, he’ll go get Phil. Since Phil seems to be halfway to adopting him in any case. Let Phil deal with it.

So he moves to walk around Ranboo. Except Ranboo mirrors him, and suddenly, the grass block is being shoved against his chest. Lightly, but enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Um,” he says again. Not up to his usual standards of eloquence, but Ranboo likely won’t remember this later if he actually is sleepwalking, so it’s fine. “You want me to take it? Is that it?”

Ranboo vwoops, still holding the block out at him, so he reaches for it, curling his fingers into the dirt. Ranboo releases the block as soon as he does, and the dirt immediately starts to come loose, to lose its shape, and a good bit of the grass starts to fall off. But Ranboo nods in satisfaction, letting out another warble, so he keeps hold of it as best he can. At least until Ranboo has passed by him, evidently content with whatever he thinks he’s accomplished. Wilbur turns to stare at his retreating back until he’s vanished around the corner.

And then he looks down at his hands. At the block, which barely resembles a block anymore. Mostly just a lump of dirt.

“Right,” he mutters, letting it slide through his fingers. Some of it clings to his skin, and he wrinkles his nose, brushing his hands against his coat.

He’s not sure what that was. But alright.

He finds his way out into the open air, eventually, climbing up and up until he gets to the roof of the castle. The sky above is lit with stars, and if he tilts his head and closes his eyes, he can hear them. Humming, always humming. Or perhaps he’s imagining it, his brain filling in a sound he can’t truly hear but that he knows is present. He’s not sure it makes a difference either way. It’s still a comfort. A small one, but a comfort nonetheless.

He’s considering whether to try to sleep up here instead when he sees that Phil is here too. A little off to the side, a dark silhouette staring out over the SMP, sitting on a stone bench. Why Eret put a bench on the roof, he has no idea; or perhaps Phil made it himself. He wouldn’t be surprised.

He should probably leave him be. And yet, he doesn’t want to go back inside, and—

Phil really ought to be resting too.

So he crosses the rooftop, slowly, almost reluctantly as he picks his way across the stone. He hesitates before sitting next to Phil on the bench, leaving a bit of space between them. This close, he can see the bags under Phil’s eyes better than ever, as well as the way his cloak twitches as the wings underneath move.

“Any particular reason why you’re up?” he asks. Phil doesn’t act surprised at his appearance; he knew he was there, then. Heard his approach, most likely, or perhaps just sensed his presence. Hundreds of years have made Phil a difficult man to catch off guard.

(though you did it once, in a different way, in that room, you caught him off guard and broke him in the catching)

Phil snorts. “Nightmare,” he says, clipped, though Wilbur is somewhat surprised to have gotten even that admission out of him. “I should be asking the same of you. You need to get some fucking sleep, Wilbur.”

“I’m well aware,” he says. “I’ve been trying. Thought a walk might clear my head.” He hesitates, not sure that he should push any further, not sure that he wants to, that Phil would welcome it. But then, he’s never been one to let such a small detail as whether his prying is welcome stop him. “Can I ask what about?” he asks, and is satisfied with that. If Phil wants him to fuck off, then he’ll tell him so.

But Phil is silent for a moment.

“You, usually,” he says.

“Oh,” Wilbur replies.

He didn’t expect that. But he feels like he should have.

Phil shifts, then, his clothing rustling as he turns to half face him.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he says. “It’s not your fault. You get as old as I am and you pick up a few recurring nightmares. Persistent little fucks, but it’s not anything to be worried about.”

But this one is bad enough to cost you sleep on the eve of battle, and I know you know better than to let that happen, so it must be bad, he doesn’t say. But this one is about me, he doesn’t say. But there is still an uncomfortable tightness in his chest, one that doesn’t let up no matter how deeply he breathes. So he doesn’t look at Phil, but he says, “Tell me about it?” and immediately curses the weakness of his voice. He almost sounds scared, which is not what he was aiming for. Inviting, maybe. He wants to know.

(he doesn’t, actually, but he feels like he should, so it’s the same thing in the end)

Phil sighs.

“We’re on a cliff, you and I,” he says, sounding tired. “There’s an ocean below us, far down. Neither of us speak. You throw a sword down at my feet, and I—I do it. Just like I did. And then, you smile at me and fall backward. Off the cliff.” He looks down at his hands, flexing his fingers. “I jump after you. And then I remember that I can’t fly.”

Wilbur swallows.

(he has no trouble conflating himself with a nightmare, no trouble at all, but it becomes more difficult when the nightmare is not him but rather losing him and he should have expected as much from Phil because Phil for all his long years has never been good at letting go at giving up on something that cannot be saved but he still doesn’t know what to do with this what to say)

“I thought falling from a cliff was a Theseus thing,” he manages.

Phil chuckles dryly. “Techno does like his myths,” he says, “but life’s not so cut and dry as those are. Not everything has a perfect parallel. We’re not storybook characters.”

It’s not a pointed comment. But his mind still cringes away from the words.

“But stories come from somewhere,” he says softly. It’s not a plea, because he doesn’t have anything to plead, but if that’s so, then he doesn’t know why his voice is lined with desperation, all of a sudden, why his heart is thumping against his ribcage. “Even in real life, we all have roles to play.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing, Wil?” Phil asks. “Playing a role?”

His breath catches, snags in his lungs, like his chest is full of thorns.

(you do not like to be seen do not like to be perceived not like this not in a way that lays out the heart of you your core beliefs those are for you and you alone and you guard them so no one else knows and they receive only what you choose to present and so you do not like this at all do not like to be known beyond what you have explicitly chosen to share)

(you have always been a showman)

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, but it’s stiff, too stiff, and Phil is too perceptive a man to be fooled by it.

“I’ve noticed what you’re doing,” Phil says. “You’re running yourself ragged trying to pull everyone together. To direct them. And I know you’re a leader, Wil, I really do, and you’re damn good at it, too, but you can’t possibly believe that wearing yourself out like this is healthy.”

He shuts his eyes. “It’s not like that,” he says. “I’m just doing what needs to be done.”

“It needs to be done. But not necessarily by you, mate. A lot of the people here are more than capable of taking on some of  the responsibility. Your brothers included. Also, you didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t hear you ask one,” he snaps, sudden irritation welling up. “It’s not a matter of health, Phil! It’s a matter of what’s important, and what’s important right now is dealing with all of this bullshit. That has to come first.”

Phil sits up straighter. His hands grip his knees, and his eyebrows draw together.

“You come first,” Phil says. “You always come first. Your health is important, and you—you can’t take care of anyone else before you take care of yourself. Wil, how long have you—”

He cuts off, but Wilbur knows what he was about to ask. How long have you thought like this? Or something like that, anyway. This is another thing that he should have expected from Phil, this persistent concern for him. It’s unnecessary, since he

(decided long ago that his health could fall on his list of priorities so long as he was effective, so long as he was getting things done, and he did get things done, in his country, in his exile, he got things done and that was what mattered because he himself has always been so much less important than the things he could create and the things he could do for others)

has matters well in hand, but he doubts Phil would understand if he tried to explain it.

(easier to tell himself that than to admit that he can’t explain it at all, that no explanation he could give would hold up to a moment’s scrutiny, that Phil will see right through it to the real underlying cause, and Phil has already perceived far too much)

“Right, health is important,” he says, placating. “I didn’t mean to imply that it wasn’t. Though, honestly, you’re one to talk. Did you think I didn’t see the state your wings are in? When’s the last time you bothered to preen them?”

It’s a low blow, and he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. Phil flinches, his face setting in a harder expression. More closed off, and he really should have known better, shouldn’t he? Should’ve known better than to bring it up like that, because Phil’s wings used to be his pride and joy, and now they’re ruined and it’s his fault to boot, and he can admit that he was looking for a sore spot to hit, but that wound is far worse than a sore spot.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.” He looks away, unable to meet Phil’s eyes, and finds himself looking up again. To the stars.

“It’s alright.” Phil laughs humorlessly. “I can’t say that you’re wrong.” He sighs, posture relaxing slightly. “I caught that, by the way. I know when you’re trying to distract me.” He tilts his head upward, staring at the stars just like Wilbur is, his hat sliding further back on his head. “I’m not trying to lecture you. I just want to understand. Why can’t you let yourself rest, Wil?”

That is a far more complicated question than he knows. That is a question that has its roots in months long past, in a drug van and an idea and a revolution and a nation, in his drive to get recognition and his determination that his country would succeed,

(because if it was not a success then it would be a failure and he too would be a failure)

in sleepless nights spent screaming into his pillow and days pasting on a smile and a confident stride. And then, in relinquishing his power when the people called for it, when he lost, conceding gracefully even as his stomach dropped into his boots, and getting an arrow in his back for his troubles, he and his brother chased like dogs from the home they built. And then, in the ravine, every shadow a threat, every person out to get him, every whisper a lie, every moment settling the despair more deeply into his bones.

But perhaps Phil knows that. Or some of it at least. He doesn’t know how much Phil has guessed. But Phil knows enough to know that the him that he encountered in that room was a far cry from the him that he portrayed in his letters, before he stopped sending them at all, before he could no longer bring himself to pick up the pen, before the thought of lying to his father again left him feeling physically ill, and the idea of telling him the truth was worse.

Phil knows enough to know that something went wrong.

Perhaps a bit of honesty wouldn’t hurt. Perhaps trying to get him to understand wouldn’t hurt. At least, not more than it already does, no more than he already has.

“It’s because I know what I’m like, Phil,” he says softly. “I know what I’m like.”

The stars twinkle at him.

“Okay,” Phil says. Patient. “What does that mean?”

He considers it. Considers everything.

“You know the legacy I left on this server, right?” he says. “You know what I left behind when I died.”

Phil turns his head, looks at him. His expression is slightly pained.

“I sort of destroyed the legacy you left,” he says, and it takes him a second to realize what he’s talking about.

“Not that L’Manberg,” he says. “That L’Manberg wasn’t mine. I suppose it was Tubbo’s more than anything, but it’s hard to say, I think. I can’t really speak on it. Ghostbur—saw things differently than how I would have.” He stops for Phil’s reaction to that, but aside from a slight narrowing of his eyes, there is nothing. “I mean the original. L’Manberg. My L’Manberg.”

Phil sucks in a sharp breath at his choice of words.

“No, Wil,” he says. “No, I didn’t really get to see it.”

“That’s the point,” he says. He closes his eyes, searching for the right words. The stars are pinprick lights dancing on his eyelids. “I destroyed it. I destroyed it all, Phil. I waffled back and forth a lot, for weeks, deciding whether I was going to do it or not. And then I did. I pushed that button, Phil. I made the decision. I destroyed it. I destroyed people’s homes. I betrayed all of my friends. And the thing about that is, even if I regret hurting them, now, I still don’t regret the action itself. I don’t regret destroying it, Phil. It needed to go.” I needed to go.

“Why is that, Wil?” Phil asks quietly.

“It wasn’t good anymore,” he answers easily. This, at least, he knows. “It wasn’t—it wasn’t mine anymore, either, but mainly it was that it wasn’t good. It became—it became corrupt. Bad. And it was never going to be good again, so it had to stop. It had to end. It all had to end. But that’s not my point right now. My point is that that was my legacy, right? L’Manberg? And I destroyed that, but what’s most important is the pain I caused. That was my legacy. That pain. That was what I left behind me. And even before that, even before everything, when I started it in the first place, I brought war to the server, Phil. Suffering, conflict. And the war was a game at first. We were all friends at the start. But then I decided that it wasn’t a game. I declared independence, and I meant it. So in the end, all of the problems on this server can be traced back to me. Something I did, or something I said.” He leans his head forward again, gazing out at the horizon rather than the night sky. “It all comes back to me. I’ve never been good for this server.”

He pauses, waiting for Phil’s reply. None comes, and he glances over; Phil is staring at him, face white as a sheet.

“I haven’t answered your question yet,” he says. “But you need to—you need to understand all of that so you understand why I feel—” He breaks off. His tongue feels clumsy, and his mind suddenly blanks. He’s not even sure that any of what he’s just said makes sense, and if it doesn’t make sense, then he can’t continue, because if he’s really going to do this, really going to put this all out there for Phil to hear, then he needs it to make sense, needs to be sure that he actually understands.

“Why you feel what?” Phil asks. Still quiet.

He takes in a breath. Tries to gather his thoughts. The exhaustion isn’t helping. It’s like wading through mud.

“I know what I’m like,” he repeats. It makes a good springboard. “So I know that I sure as hell don’t deserve to be back here, even if it had been what I wanted. But I am, so I need to do something that’s worth that. I need to pull myself together and get us all out of this. For Tommy’s sake, if for no one else, and for Tubbo, and—and Fundy, and everyone who doesn’t deserve to be pulled into this mess. Another mess. If I have the ability to help, then I have a responsibility to do that. I can’t just—push it off to someone else, Phil. That’s not how it works.”

“Why not?” Phil asks.

“Because then I’m not worth it, then, am I?” he erupts. Why isn’t Phil getting this? “Phil, we’re all measured by the things we create. By the things we’re able to do, our accomplishments. If I can’t do anything that’s worth something, then what the fuck am I here for? Because it’s not because I asked, Phil. I got what I deserved in the end, and that was supposed to be all. I wanted it to be all, Phil, I wanted—”

He cuts off, horror mounting in him. This was a mistake. He never should have said anything at all, never should have started in on this. He should have dodged the questions, the probing comments, until Phil finally got tired and left it alone.

He should have gone back inside.

But Phil still hasn’t spoken, so he presses on, trying to wrap it up in a way that’s understandable.

“In the end, it all comes down to the fact that I have experience with this kind of stuff,” he says. “Someone needs to step up, and I can. So I need to. That’s all it is.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “I probably should’ve just skipped to that part.”

“No, I’m glad you didn’t,” Phil says, and there’s a tremor in his voice that he can’t place the reason for. “I’m glad you—I’m glad you told me this. But—Wil, okay, first off, just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should, and it doesn’t mean you have to.”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand it,” he mutters. He really ought to go back inside. But the night air is so fresh and clear, smelling of humidity and petrichor, and the thought of returning to that empty, dark room only to stare at the ceiling until morning makes something in him shrivel up and die inside. If he’s not going to be able to sleep, then he’d rather be awake out here than in there.

“Wil,” Phil says, insistent, and suddenly, Phil’s hands are on his shoulders, turning him toward him with a light but firm touch. He blinks. “Do you not take care of yourself because you think you don’t deserve it?” Something in Phil’s voice folds like wet paper, just as fragile, just as flimsy.

He opens his mouth to respond, and no words come.

(there is is, the crux of the matter, the core of it all, because he is a person built of pretty words and self-loathing, and long before he directed any anger at the world around him, he pointed it inward, lashed at himself until only scars remained, and he called that just, called that right)

He’s not sure how Phil jumped to that conclusion from all of that. But—he’s trying to deny it, trying to refute the point, but the words just won’t form.

“Oh, Wilbur,” Phil says, sounding a bit wrecked, and then, the hands on his shoulders move to his arms, gently pulling him forward and into Phil’s embrace. Phil’s arms circle him lightly, his hands rubbing patterns into his back, and then, his wings rise from under his cloak, swooping forward and closing around him in a motion that is all-too familiar from his childhood, in a motion indicating that even now, Phil is trying to comfort him, trying to protect him with all that he is. It’s a hug that means warmth and safety and love, and Wilbur begins to tremble, because—

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t. He doesn’t understand what he did to deserve it.

“You don’t need to do anything to be worthy of love,” Phil murmurs. “You don’t need to do anything to deserve to take care of yourself. And—you’re wrong about your legacy. It’s not just pain and suffering. You’ve done so many good things for so many people, and they remember that, even if you can’t. I see it every day. You were missed, Wil. So fucking missed, by so many more people than just me.”

And that can’t be true. That can’t possibly be true, because he remembers his ending certainty, his declaration that everyone would thank Phil for killing him, that everyone wanted him to do it, and he was so sure of himself, then, because he was the traitor, he was the villain, and villains get what they deserve. And perhaps he wasn’t entirely right, not in Tommy’s case, at any rate, because Tommy wanted him back, at least, but everyone else should have wanted him dead.

But no one has. No one has thus far, at least. No one has tried to do anything to him aside from a few pointed comments. No one has tried to lock him up or kill him. No one has tried, even when they should, they definitely should, because he was hated by the end—wasn’t he?

(no. except for by one, and you have never judged yourself fairly)

So, what does that mean, then? What does it mean that he understands far less than he thought he did? What does it mean that he is struggling for control, falling back into old patterns because it’s all he knows, struggling and falling and failing? He thought he knew, thought he understood well how it all ties together, how to measure his own worth by what he can do, but here is Phil saying that that’s not right at all, and what is he supposed to do with that?

He has vowed to be better. Has been trying to be better. Has he been getting that wrong, too?

Or perhaps he isn’t wrong. Perhaps Phil is. He would like to believe that Phil is. It would be so much easier if Phil is. But here, now, held with arms and wings both, the contact chasing all of the day’s chill away, he’s not sure that he can arrive at that conclusion. Not sure he can let himself deny it, deny this.

But if he is wrong about this, he is wrong about so much, and that—that is terrifying.

“I’ve been trying to be better. I’ve been trying so hard,” he gasps out. “Phil—Phil, I don’t think I know what I’m doing. I don’t think I know how.”

“That’s okay,” Phil says. “That’s okay, you don’t have to. You just have to try. That’s all anyone wants. And it’s a process, not a one-and-done thing. It’s okay to not know.” Phil pauses. One hand moves from his back and goes up to card through his hair. Wilbur lets out a sigh. “But part of that is being better toward yourself. You deserve that just by virtue of existing. You don’t have to do anything or make anything. You deserve better things.”

(his own voice: you deserve good things and you can have them. but that was to Tommy, for Tommy, and it surely can’t apply to him, surely, because he is different, is not good like Tommy is, because he may be trying not to be the villain anymore but he was one once and he is not good and even before then he was not good enough so surely he cannot turn that around on himself surely he cannot)

“I don’t know if I can believe that,” he admits.

“That’s alright, too,” Phil says. “We can work on it, okay? We’ll all work on it together. Just, remember that you do deserve better things. No matter what your brain is telling you. Your brain is fucking wrong, okay? In this, it’s so fucking wrong. You deserve to be—to be fucking kind to yourself.” He pauses for a moment, and when he continues, his voice is full of trepidation. “Wil, you are—I mean, you do—you do want to—”

He seems to be struggling to phrase it, but Wilbur knows exactly what he’s asking.

“I don’t know about want,” he says. He’s been honest thus far; may as well continue. “I—I didn’t tell you about the time with the Egg, before you got here. It got in my head good. Really good. And it offered me—rest. I tried to give in to it. If other people weren’t there, I would have.”

Phil’s grip on him tightens.

“But I’ve decided I’m staying,” he continues. “I’ve decided. For the sake of—I mean, some of you people seem to care about me, for some godforsaken reason. And I don’t want to hurt you. So I’m staying here. Alive. I’m going to keep trying.”

“Okay,” Phil whispers. “Okay, that’s a good start.”

If that is a start, then what is the end goal? But he’s too worn out to ask. Exhausted in so many more ways than one.

But his mind is quieter. No longer buzzing. Like a storm has finally passed over, leaving destruction in its wake, but also calm.

He finally brings his arms up and embraces Phil in turn, leaning his weight against his chest. The moment he lets himself, all his muscles go limp, his body finally succumbing to the break he so sorely needs.

“You’re a sappy old man, do you know that?” he mumbles.

“I’m your father,” Phil says. “Comes with the territory.”

He hums, pushing his face against Phil’s robes. He’s clutching at his back, but the cloak has shifted, now that Phil’s moved his wings to wrap around him, so if he inches his hands up a bit, they’ll hit the wings’ base. So he does, slowly, cautiously, and then just lets his hands rest there, against the feathers. Phil stiffens.

“Let me preen them,” he says.

Phil takes a second to answer.

“Didn’t we just have a conversation about not taking on as much responsibility?” he says, and just as Phil can pick out when he’s trying to dodge a topic, he can tell right away that the question is an avoidance.

“This is completely different,” he says. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t. But—” He moves back so he can stare Phil in the face, taking a moment to chew on his next words. “I want to. Please.”

He’s not sure why this is suddenly so important to him. It’s probably something about how the state of these wings is his fault in the first place, about how Phil wrecked them in an effort to protect him, about how he turned around and begged him to kill him a moment later, with no regard for what Phil had just sacrificed. It’s probably something about how Phil is talking self-acceptance at him and yet obviously has not been taking care of himself, not in this aspect, at least, and he hates it, hates to see this disregard for things that he once held so dear, hates to see it and know that the blame lies with him. It’s probably something about how being held like this takes him back to when he was younger, and he always loved running his hands through his father’s feathers when he was still a child, straightening them and cleaning them and taking pride in the fact that he was helping, that he was a part of something, part of a family at last after so long on his own.

It’s probably all of that at once.

Something in Phil seems to deflate. His shoulders slump, which is not exactly the reaction Wilbur was hoping for.

And then—

“Alright,” Phil whispers. He leans back from the hug, stretching out his wings so that Wilbur can get a good look at them. So he does look, and he struggles to keep his face neutral; he’d hoped, somehow, that his glimpse of them in the Egg’s chamber, ragged and bleeding from the thorns, was exaggerated in his memory, that they’re not actually in as terrible a way as he remembers. But as Phil allows him to stare, his heart sinks.

Even in the dim light of the stars, he can see that the wings are a mess. And his stomach rolls as his eyes land on bare, scarred patches of skin, on exposed bone. A few places are still bandaged from the damage the Egg did, though potions have done much in the way of healing those particular wounds.

And only those, it seems.

(the Angel of Death will fly no more)

But there are still plenty of feathers, feathers that Phil obviously hasn’t been looking after, feathers that fall every which way, sticking out at odd angles. There are a few spots that Phil has evidently straightened himself, but not many. Some appear to be overlapping strangely, poking into the skin in a way that cannot be comfortable.

He looks back to Phil’s face. Phil’s expression is odd, some combination of resignation and defiance, as if halfway daring him to comment.

So Wilbur doesn’t. Just scoots forward slightly and runs his hand across some of the offered feathers.

And then gets to work.

Even in his tired state, the motions are familiar, far too familiar to mess up. Straighten the feathers, pick out dirt and other detritus that’s been caught in and beneath them. His hands are more hesitant than they ever have been, struggling with what to do as they near the more obviously injured places, but he does know how to do this. He has done it so many times before.

(and if Phil is allowing him this now, when he obviously has not allowed anyone near his wings in a long time, even Techno, even the son whose side he remained by, then perhaps it is a good sign, and perhaps he can take it as a sign of hope, as a sign that things can be better are getting better no matter the hurts that have yet to heal)

“Do they hurt?” he can’t help but ask, voice low.

Phil hesitates a beat too long. “Not usually,” he says, and Wilbur knows it for a lie.

There’s a lot of feathers loose. A lot of feathers coming out at a mere touch. And Wilbur knows how this works, knows that if the feather is already falling out then it needs to be removed, but it still concerns him, just how many there are, just how many now litter the ground, stirring in the wind.

It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask if it hurts right now. But another glance at Phil’s face forestalls him. His eyes have drifted shut, the lines around his eyes and on his forehead smoothing out, and the tension has bled from his frame.

(a memory: you have lived in this house scarce weeks and you barely trust these two at all but this boy who will become your brother has sat you down with the man who will become your father and is telling you, determinedly, seriously, resolutely, that if you’re going to stick around then you need to know how to do this, and Philza is laughing at the both of you and you are nervous, because you have never had a home before and you want to keep this one, but Technoblade shows you how to card through the feathers, and Phil chirps at you every now and then, soft and encouraging, and it feels a bit like a home, you think, if you’ll let yourself have it)

For a moment, he lets his hand hover over bone. It’s so very wrong, so very disturbing. Bones should not be extended out of flesh in the way that these are. His stomach flips again.

“This is my fault,” he murmurs. The words slip out.

“It was my choice,” Phil says, opening his eyes. “I’d do it again.” It’s a steady declaration this time, no indication of a lie.

(and he almost wishes that there were, because he has never known what to do with unwavering protection, protection that he does not deserve—but then, Phil has told him that his sense of what he deserves might not be right at all, and he doesn’t know what to do with that either)

(because the protection offered is without a doubt resolute, unquestioning, unconditional, and in that moment, as the explosions went off and Phil shielded him with no hesitation even though he could not have known that a life lost to them would have been his last because he did not tell him did not tell him anything at all)

(you try not to remember that Phil must have waited for you to respawn and try not to imagine the look on his face when your body remained and somebody had to tell him had to tell him that this is a three-life server and the life he took was the last the last the last the finale the ending an ending he surely did not intend to grant and you cannot let yourself imagine the moment he found out you cannot)

He doesn’t have an answer to that. None that Phil would accept, at any rate. So he doesn’t answer at all, just keeps dragging his fingers through his father’s feathers, neatening them, cleaning them where he can, and there’s only so much he’s going to be able to to like this, here and now, but it’s a start. Judging by the way Phil’s eyes are drooping again, he feels more comfortable than before. And really, that was the goal, wasn’t it? To do something? Anything?

(anything to ease the weight to lift the burden and Phil has a point, perhaps, about responsibility and taking on too much but this is not a responsibility is not work this is taking care of family and if Phil is allowing you this then perhaps you ought to consider accepting help in return perhaps letting your loved ones in would not be such a bad idea perhaps you can put a little more of yourself on display and trust them to smooth out the rough edges perhaps perhaps)

Eventually, he runs out of feathers to preen, to fix. There is nothing he can do about the scars, the bones, but he has done what he can, and perhaps that means something, even if not everything.

“We should go back inside,” Phil murmurs. His words slur slightly; he’s listing to the side a bit, obviously just on the edge of sleep. It makes Wilbur glad to know that some things don’t change.

“Probably,” he says. “I’d like to stay out for a few minutes longer. The stars look nice tonight.”

Phil yawns, and halfway through, the noise transforms into a warbling chirp.

“I s’ppose we can do that,” he agrees, and in the next instant, Phil is wrapping his wings around him again, pulling him closer, and he doesn’t fight it. He lets himself lean into Phil’s side, warm and secure. Overhead, the stars spin. And hum. They always hum, even if he can’t quite hear the notes, and for the moment, he feels right with his place in the universe.

He falls asleep like that, finally. His dreams are full of music and feathers and distant birdsong.

--------------------

He wakes up to the clanging of a bell.

“Oh, fuck,” Phil is saying, and the weight of his wings disappears in a split second. Wilbur almost topples over as Phil lurches to his feet, catching himself just in time, bracing himself against the bench and squinting against the morning sun. It is morning; that’s probably the best night’s sleep he’s gotten in the past few days, the beginning insomnia notwithstanding. His weariness is not quite gone, but it’s far less prevalent than it has been.

It takes a second for his eyes to adjust to the light. The first thing he sees are the red vines crawling over the sides of the castle, inching toward the roof.

“Shit, fuck,” Phil is still saying, “the enchantments are gone, we need to move—”

The bell clangs twice, then thrice more, and then falls silent. Eret said they had a bell, didn’t they? That they would ring it if something happened, to wake everyone up?

“Fuck,” Phil says, suddenly hushed. “Wil.”

He rises, coming to stand by Phil’s side, peering out toward the gates, the wall, the place where the enchanted boundaries are supposed to be set. The castle itself doesn’t yet seem to be overrun, but the walls are covered in the foliage, and if he watches them carefully, he can see them growing in real time, unfurling toward them like bloody banners.

Dream stands just inside the gates. Behind him, there are others: Bad, Ant, Ponk, Punz, the four they knew to expect for sure, along with a woman he doesn’t recognize, white flowers strewn in her hair and wrapped around her arms. In front of them, Eret stands with their sword held out, and Sapnap staggers to stand beside them, obviously just woken up. Hopefully the others are on the move, too.

But what draws Wilbur’s attention is Ranboo. Standing next to Dream, slouched. Eyes no longer purple, but vacant, staring, dull. Dream has a possessive hand on his shoulder. Ranboo himself isn’t moving.

(betrayed betrayed betrayed even if history does not repeat it rhymes echoes and rhymes and he should’ve known better than to trust should’ve known better than to think that no one would stab him in the back because that’s just what people do)

“I hope you took advantage of the time we gave you to prepare,” Dream says. “We thought it’d be only fair. But it’s checkmate now.”

And the smile on his mask seems to grow.