#and people will only talk about how sad quackity must feel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

snappleapple · 4 years

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their favorite types of kisses

people in this - dream, georgenotfound, sapnap, wilbur, punz, jschlatt, awesamdude, quackity

headcanon!

the most disgusting fluff i’ve ever written

warning - cursing, i think that’s all but if there is more please do not hesitate to tell me :)

word count - 2k

a/n: okay okay, i might’ve lied earlier about that being my last post but this was short and easy to make which is why i would like to feed my readers this early haha. anyways, enjoy and please disregard the errors in this post, i hate proof reading anything lol. also, i’ve been very indecisive on the title and i might change it later and ooh, my masterlist will be made soon. i’ve just been feeling very unproductive these days. also, please put in requests, i am so bored and dumb therefore there are no ideas in this brain. and if you’d like a part 2, i might add more people for the part 2!anyways, peace!

dream -

i get the feeling that dream’s favorite type of kisses would be cheek kisses

he just likes to watch as you struggle to reach his height

“aw look at those little legs do their thing.”

ends up with you not giving him his kiss

and mans becomes SO pouty

“y/n…come on. don’t be this way.” :(

if you don’t kiss him on the cheek, will also become SO clingy and whiny

“why won’t you KISS ME!”

clenches his fists and stomps away like a teenage girl during puberty

slamming the door to your room

so then you have to go and give him all the kisses he wants

his face is slammed into your pillow

you sit on the side of the bed and pet his hair

leading him to stare up at you with puppy dog eyes

“i will give you all the kisses you want. so stop being so pouty, you big baby.”

will literally leave zero feet of space between you and him

taps his cheek to tell you he wants kisses

when you go on dates, will literally make you stand on your tippy toes to get his kisses

does not bend down at all and actually lifts his head higher to tease you

in other words, clingy but rude hoe

george -

george is a classic romantic

he loves just lip kisses

pecks or lingering ones

he doesn’t care

mans don’t need too many kisses

nor does he need to be too clingy

total opposite of dream and sapnap *ahem clingy ahem*

if he wants a kiss,

he will come over to you and get it

doesn’t get pouty if you’re busy

just waits patiently

doesn’t enjoy it when you interrupt him when he’s streaming so you do your own thing

when you’re watching a movie with him,

he will literally only stare at you with his cute smile

and listen to your every criticism of the movie

he likes to just peck your lips whenever he feels like it

and you’re just not surprised anymore

just likes to stare at your lips whenever you talk

overall, is very sweet but not to an extent with showing affection

sapnap -

omg

sapnap just vibes with neck kisses

it tickles his neck and he loves them

giggles when you pepper kisses along his neck and flushes a deep red

“y/n. stop.” giggles between each word

but when you do, becomes the saddest person in the whole world

“i was joking.” :(

when he’s streaming and he begins to miss you

would leave his room and find you just to get a kiss

just like dream, would get angry if you give him no kisses

“GIVE ME KISSIES!”

very amusing for you

and you love to tease him

“i don’t want to give you kissies.”

continues to stare at you with a large frown until you give in and give him kissies

lsg supremacy but i’ll get into this later hehe

you better give him kisses or you’ll be dealing with a very sad sapnap

sadnap :(

wilbur -

wilbur, wilbur, wilbur

what can i even say

total nose kiss guy

i bet he’ll boop your nose twenty four seven

asks stupid questions just to get your attention

“y/n?”

“yes wilbur?”

“is a hotdog a sandwich?”

“why-“

“boop.”

“did you just say boop while you booped my nose?”

if he’s streaming and you bring him a snack

he will hold your face still and leave kisses on your nose

not too clingy but not too distant

likes to be just right with you

if its snowy outside and your noses get red

makes dumb jokes about he is rudolph and you’re mrs. rudolph

just a lot of smooches from wilby

takes you to a lot of hidden cafes in the city

and while you read, he balances his head on his palm, staring at you in admiration

if you’re insecure about your nose, you legit can’t be around wilbur because he will go on a tangent about how beautiful it is

substantially, soft boy hours all day bro, besides when he gets mad then you leave the hormonal man tf alone

punz -

i don’t see a lot of punz on tumblr so here we go

punz loves hand kisses

not to an extent where he has a hand fetish

god no but just like

when your holding hands, he’ll occasionally pull your hand up to his lips and leave a kiss

lots of hand holding

and i mean lots

constantly gets mad fun of for being a simp but ignores those comments because he genuinely loves you so much

likes it when you play with his hair and messing it up

also likes to compare hand sizes with you

always has a hand on your thigh or your hand in his whenever he is driving somewhere with you

even when you go on dates, always holding hands

no matter how sweaty your hand gets, he will hold on

sometimes if he holds on for too long, you have to tell him to let go

“punz, my hand is super sweaty. lets take a break from the hand holding.”

would flat out decline so you would have to pry your hand out of his

he would also love it when you would kiss his hand

makes him feel all polite and precious LOL

would also wrap his pinky along yours when you walk together

he once came with you to a family gathering for christmas and was so SHY

shy boy held your hand for security while your younger siblings made fun of you

afterwards, when you were under a mistletoe, he kisses you on the lips before kissing you on his favorite part of your body,

your hand

c!jschlatt -

jschlatt is a whole mess

the first time you met, he confessed that he would hate you for as long as you lived because you made fun of his boots

now he says he still strongly dislikes you but you’re more tolerable

doesn’t like it when you make him soft and HATES it when he blushes

“why must you do this to me, mother nature?”

also “hates” it when you even touch him because he “hates” you

when he actually confessed to you that he liked you with his grumpy usual grandpa voice,

you kissed him on his forehead, after he bent down of course

he is an actual giant and threatens to squash you like an ant if he feels the need to

is an absolute monster to you but loves it when you kiss his forehead because it makes him feel secure and loved

likes to watch the wind blow through your hair and mess it up but gives you his hat because he like you being “all pretty and shit”

gets SUPER jealous when you hug children

like for example, when you went over to a family gathering at his house, his cousins came up to hug you

and when you let go of the child, the man child comes and lugs you over his shoulder

gets yelled at by his mom and gives her a sheepish smile before rolling his eyes and throwing you down on the sofa set next to him

his mom doesn’t approve of the way he treats you but you tell her its fine because he’s cute

when you are far from any type of civilization or in the safety and solitude of your own home, he wants kisses on the forehead

pointing up to it and bending down so you could reach it

“y/n, i only love you because of your forehead kisses.”

“you only love me for my kisses?” :(

“mhm.”

actually feels slightly bad

“and because of your personality.”

“thank you-“

“shut up. we don’t talk about this.”

in conclusion, give him his forehead kisses or perish

awesamdude -

sam just adores it when you give him jawline kisses

not because it’s basically the only place you could reach but because it’s a sweet gesture

sam is all about sweetness

i mean have you even seen this man on his stream

he likes to watch you while you have conversations with your friends

not in a creepy way but more like an adoring way

cause man does he love you

i mean not only does he love you but his whole family does

and when you’re alone with sam, you love to bury him underneath all of your love

“i love you sam!”

“no i love you more y/n!”

“NO i LOVE you more!”

“NO i LOVE you MORE!”

“SAM NO. I LOVE YOU MORE!”

“okay thank you sweet pea.”

leaving you a bit confused but happy that he accepts your love

when you cuddle, omg

he never stops peppering kisses all over your face and vice versa because your relationship is disgustingly fluffy

when he lends you one of his sweatshirts, you sure as hell better wear that shit out or else (i am leaving a blank threat here)

sam loves technology but you guys sort of have a system

a system that involves mailing each other love letters rather than texting them

you guys also go on a ton of walks just about anywhere

hand holding is mandatory even though you probably look like a child compared to him

just give sam lots of love and in return, you’ll receive lots of love

quackity -

mans cannot leave you tf alone

likes to do ANYTHING freaky around you

“i will follow you to the ends of the earth, mi amor.” or

“ayy, back off.” if anyone gets too close to you

messes with you twenty four seven and makes it his job to drive you insane

plays horror games at two in the morning for fun

and when he gets scared, hides in the safety of your arms

“mi amor. i’m scared.”

“shut the fuck up and sleep, alex.”

“okay.” shuts up quickly and snuggles deeper into the crook of your neck

loves you so deeply but HATES your cat

“look at that little dumb thing stare at me. you got a problem bro?”

your cat also HATES alex

scratches him all the time and hisses at him

if you think sapnap is babie, wait till you meet alex

“y/n he bit me!”

when you glance down, you don’t even see a scratch

“kiss my boo boo.”

wtf

“what boo boo? there’s nothing there.”

gasps as if you offended him

“this boo boo that your el demonio did to me.”

this man will do anything to get boo boo kisses

istg, you once found him provoking your cat to get some scratches

in alex’s mind, ouchies = kisses from y/n

always has ouchies from god knows where and shows it to you

even though you find it annoying at first, you grow used to it and it sorta becomes your thing with alex

alex is babie and you need to take good care of him :)

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teddy06writes · 3 years

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You Didn't Need Us Then, We Don't Need You Now

Requested by this anon: "Okay I thought of this idea during Fundy's stream. Quackity and reader were engaged to Karl and Sapnap, but they left because of Karl losing his memory and Sapnap paying more attention to him. Quackity and reader then created Las Navadas to try and cope with everything that's happened to them. They created a little wedding area where they planned to get married with Sap and Karl. Flash forward to a year or two later, Karl and Sap stumble across Las Navadas and their two former fiancees. And they see everything they've done, including the little wedding area. which is perfectly designed as to how they wanted their wedding together. That's is as far as I got to the imagine in my head. If you could make a fic out of it that would be cool. If not at least you have this cute imagine in your head! 😊"

{Okay, so- so man feels, so many ideas. I haven't seen all of the Los Nevadas streams yet because I've got a lot of school stuff going on, but, I think I have a pretty good idea of what's going on. [also Slime from The Ground my beloved]}

Quackity x reader; Past: Sapnap x Karl x Quackity x reader

trigger warnings: maybe some swearing, slight descriptions of a panic attack, slight drinking

premise: After L'manburg was destroyed, two of your fiancées seemed to disappear. With just Sapnap left, you had been scared, but he assured you that the right thing to do was split up to try and find Quackity and Karl. And, well, you found Quackity, but when He found Karl.... something else had taken over, and suddenly Kinoko Kingdom was more important than finding you and quackity again. But thats fine. You and Quackity had been together in the begining, so what did you need from the other two? Las Nevadas could fill the void they left,,, and it did, until they happened to come knocking, right as you were finally moving on.

{Also, parental unit for everyone in Las Nevadas, I love it, brain is going brr so hard}

{also also, purpled is the forgotten eldest child of the server and no the ufo does not get blown up}

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

"It's gone, (y/n) it's all gone," You said with disbelief, staring over the barren, ashy place that had once been L'manburg and El Rapids, "We couldn't stop him."

Sapnap took in a shaky breath, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "We were never could have. Even if the supplies weren't destroyed."

The remaining people had already cleared out, but you had only now come to see the damage, having been forced away from the battle by your fiancées.

"I could have helped." You fell to your knees, still staring at the wreckage.

Sapnap could only sigh at the broken look on your face. You had lost the only home you'd ever known, but what had he lost? Well, for one thing, Karl.

Karl was still no where to be found, and now it seemed that Quackity had disappeared.

He fiddled with the purple band that circled one of his fingers, "Look- we- we need to find Quackity and Karl. Q looked pretty bad the last time I saw him, and Karl-"

Resolutely you nodded, dragging yourself to stand, "Karl is Karl. He'll be happy that his statue missed being blown up. I think its Q we should be worried about. This place- El Rapids- that was everything to him."

"Well- how about you go find Quackity, and I go find Karl. We're bound to find them eventually if we split up." He offered.

You studied the look on his face, "You're covering for him. What's going on?"

Sapnap only shook his head.

Crossing your arms you turned toward the hill, and what was left of the prime path, "Quackity has the deed to some land. North of Spawn. Meet us there once you kind K, alright?"

"Okay." He said softly, leaning over to press a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Be safe." You advised, already starting away.

It didn't take you very long to track down your Fiancé, in all the time you'd known him (much longer than you'd known the others), he hadn't changed too much.

So, when you made your way through the twisted paths near Pogtopia, he was up on the ridge, sitting on the rock that had for so long, doubled as a bench.

"It's good to see you're safe." You hugged your arms to your body, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

As soon as you were sitting next to him, he was leaning on you, "He destroyed everything- all that work- El Rapids-"

"I know." You wrapped your arms around him, finally letting your own tears fall, "I know."

"What are we gonna do? I just wanted a place for us- I just- I wanted to make a place for us- all we asked for was recognition- and now the only place that saw was recognizing us is gone."

It had taken a while for Quackity to stop talking about everything that had been destroyed. Even then he kept asking, "But- Just wanted to make a place for you guys, how are we gonna do that now?"

"We can still make a place," You assured him, even as you yourself were unsure, "We'll make our own little country. So far out where no one will be able to blow it up."

He seemed to take to the idea quickly, and that night, as the two of you sat together in the camp that had been made within the caverns of Pogtopia, he talked feverently of the country you two would make.

He talked of buildings, of businesses, and of wedding venues. The plans he made up that night, they were almost enough to make you forget about what had happened to your home.

"What about that land north of spawn?" You suggested, letting your head rest back on his shoulder.

Quackity thought about it for a moment, "I mean- its just some desert, but I think we could make it work."

"Good, I told Sap to meet us there once he found Karl."

He nodded, "We'll head up there, and start getting everything ready, and then when they're ready they can come up."

~~ This was how three months came to pass, with the busyness of planning the new city, the beginning of construction, the meetings with Sam to plan for the new economic system that the new country would spread through the lands.

Yet you still felt off. It had been that long and Karl and Sapnap had never returned, something must have gone horribly, horribly wrong. It nagged at you, constantly, Drove you sick with anxiety somedays.

"(y/n)."

You looked up from the designs for the next casino you had been going over, "Sam! I didn't know you were visiting today! What can I do for you?"

"Uhhh, I wasn't planning on it, you better come out here- it's Quackity, we had been discussing- some things. I don't know what happened but when he passed back through-" The creeper hybrid trailed off.

You quickly stood, rushing passed him and through the hall to the courtyard where Sam had left him, gasping for breath and tugging at his hair.

In an instant you were kneeling beside him, "Breath baby, breath."

"They- he- George- Kinoko- Sap- left- on purpose-" He blubbered.

"Hey, Q," You took his hands as gently as you could, "look at me. Breath, breath with me. Come on, breath."

Slowly, he began to calm down, and by the time Sam was long gone he slowly began to explain what happened.

"I was heading back from talking with Sam, I saw George outside the prison. He kept talking about something- about- Kinoko Kingdom..." He sighed.

"Kinoko- what?" You asked, confused.

He let his head drop into his hands, "Karl and Sapnap.... started another country- called Kinoko Kingdom... they didn't even wait for us."

You felt your heart drop, if you hadn't been holding his hands yours would've been shaking, "What-"

Quackity could only nod shakily as he pulled you into his arms.

"I told him to come back here- I told- why didn't they-" You muttered absently.

The only noise in the courtyard was from the fountains, and the small sniffles from the two of you.

You were still in a state of semi-shock and sadness when you felt his arms tighten around you.

"We don't need them anyway. Las Nevada's can prosper without them."

~~ "Purpled? You want to get him in on this?" Quackity frowned.

You shrugged, "He's a mercenary, he could be of some help around here."

Your fiancé studied your face for a moment, "No, that's not it. Why do you really want him here?"

"Look, he's-" You sighed, "The kids been through a lot. He doesn't really have anything anymore, he needs somewhere, someone at least. We owe that too him at least."

After a moment, he nodded, "I haven't spoken to him since I paid him for his help with that egg mess. He- didn't seem to like me being around."

"I'll try to find him, he'd talk to me, I'm sure of it." You stood up from your seat at the table.

"You're going now?" He asked, following you across to the coat room.

You nodded, tugging on your boots, "If I want to make it through to the Greater SMP before it gets dark. I'll see if Eret will let me stay the night, then I'll head out again."

"Be careful." Quackity advised once you were ready.

You pecked at his lips, "I always am."

The journey to the Greater SMP went quickly, and after a nights stay in Eret's castle, you had made your way to the UFO, disappointed to find it seemingly abandoned.

"How the hell am I supposed to find him if the one place he ever seems to be is empty." You muttered, glancing around the base of the UFO.

You shrugged off your knapsack, dropping it to the side, followed by the sword that had been at your hip, and then you began to climb.

Even the inside of the UFO was completely empty, devoid of any chests, crafting tables, or furnaces.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

You jumped, turning to find Purpled, in full netherite, sword gripped tight in his hand.

"I- We've been looking for you." You fumbled for an explanation, holding up your hands in a sort of surrender.

He scoffed, "I already did a job for you people, I'm busy now."

"Not for a job Purpled!" You couldn't help but exclaim, "Some people actually try to find you for more than just that."

"Then what do you want?" He snapped.

"Did Q tell you about Nevadas?"

Purpled frowned, "Yeah, he mentioned it."

"Well, I think you should join. Come in on the project."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

You sighed, "Look, Purpled, you- everyone here, in this smp, they don't care, they don't bother to know you. You- you don't really have a place here-"

"You think I don't know that?" Purpled's grip on his sword tightened.

"So, If you come with us, join Las Nevadas, you can have a place- have people who care. You need people, Purpled."

"I don't Need anyone." He insisted.

You sighed, "Someday your going to have to see that that's not true. Please consider joining Las Nevadas, no one here cares, but we do."

"That's not true," He said bitterly, "You just need me to do another god damned job."

With a shake of your head you turned, preparing for the climb back down, "Purpled, this smp isn't kind to children, but I think it's been the most unfair to you. Out here your being forgotten, but you might not be if you join us."

At the base of the UFO you were surprised to find a strange, slimly looking boy digging through your bag.

"Hey!" You yelled, "Don't touch that! It's not yours!"

He looked up and froze, realizing he'd been caught.

You snatched your things away from him, quickly unsheathing your sword, "Who are you?"

"Uhhhh, I'm a meat person- same as you!" He offered.

"You- you're- uh-" You sputtered for a moment confused, "Why were you touching my things?"

"Uhhhhh, Dap me up!" He said avoiding the question.

You stared at him for a moment, "I don't have time for this."

As you started back toward the prime path you heard him call, "Nice to meet you (y/n) from Las Nevadas!"

"How do you know my name?" You demanded, whirling around.

"Oh, I know a lot of things." He laughed, "I see lots 'a stuff."

You frowned, "Uh huh. I'm gonna- walk away now."

~~ A week had passed, and there was still no signs of Purpled, nor Fundy or Foolish, (both of whom Quackity had gone to speak to whilst you were away), coming to Las Nevadas.

You were sure that Purpled would come around eventually, but had no faith that anyone else would join Las Nevadas, until you had heard a strange noise in the night.

It had been a cross between a clang and a yell, and then almost like something being dragged.

You had been going over some of the contracts you had been preparing for if anyone ever did show up when you'd heard it, and your fiancé seem to be gone from his own office, and your bedroom even, so quickly you armed yourself with your sword before hurrying out after the noise.

The streets of Las Nevadas were still partially lit by street lamps as you hurried along, it didn't take you long to find your fiancé, just outside of city limits, pacing In front of a strange looking hole.

"What the hell are you doing?" You hissed.

"Hey! It's (y/n) from Las Nevadas!"

You jumped at the voice, turning to see that no, the hole wasn't green, that the same slime boy from before was sitting in it.

"You! What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed.

"Quackity from Las Nevadas put me in this hole!" He said cheerfully.

Quackity grabbed your shoulder, turning you away from Slime and the hole, "You know him?"

"He was trying to look through my stuff after I talked to Purpled," You explained, glancing back over at the hole, "Said he sees just about everything, uhh, as far as I can tell, he's like the hybrids- but- weirder."

"Nope! I'm just a totally goopless guy! I'm bones and stuff!" He called from the hole.

"Oh god we have crazy people here." Quackity muttered scrubbing a hand over his face.

You moved to crouch next to the hole, "What- uh- What are you doing here buddy?"

"Oh I'm just oozing around. Dap me up!"

Confused, you complied, nervously laughing as he grinned at the handshake.

"I found him spying in the restaurant." Quackity sighed.

"What's spying?" The boy in the hole asked, "I just listen."

"Yeah well tell me exactly what you heard or I'll ill you right now!" Quackity threatened, pulling out his sword.

He hummed, "Well, I saw you, and I saw (y/n) from Las Nevadas. And there was a green guy, and a purple guy. I know of a Red guy, dead guy but he's not dead anymore-"

Your breath hitched, "Dead guy?"

"Yeah, looked real ashy- maybe even ...sooty?..." He confirmed.

Quackity glanced back at you, "And he's not dead anymore?"

"No. He's weird now. Got gray hair instead of grey skin. Used to run a country- got blown up though."

"How much have you seen man?" You asked, incredulous.

He shrugged, "I mean, I move slow but I've seen a lot. Lately a lot of conversations about taking advantage of the ever so fragile human psyche through gambling."

"Holy shit." you muttered.

Quackity glared up into the night sky, almost looking for an answer.

Shifting closer too look at the boy you frowned, "What's all that green stuff?"

"Oh- those are just- my totally normal- human parts! I'm a person!" He grinned.

You sighed, "Uhh, look, what's your name? Like how I'm (y/n) from Las Nevadas, who are you?"

"Oh, I'm goop from the ground!" He smiled for a moment before realizing his mistake, "I mean- I'm a meat person!"

Quackity still seemed to be praying to the sky, not paying any attention.

"Goop from the ground," You muttered, slowly connecting the dots, "Well, uhh, goop, how bout I give you a regular person name?"

"A person name? Oh boy!" He laughed.

You thought for a moment longer, "How about- Charlie?"

Charlie grinned, somehow even wider than before, "Woah! I have a real human name! Like any other regular human meat person!"

"Yep, you do." You chuckled.

"And, to be clear, I definitely am one of those, and not a piece of goop, that's slowly come to the surface, hiding as a person!"

As you continued to talk with Charlie, Quackity seemed to come to a realization, "He's like an accidental spy!"

And, when you helped him out of the hole Quackity was quick to say, "Well, this- this- was- was uh a formal greeting! Yeah that's what we call them!"

"Wow!" Charlie mused.

The walk back to Las Nevadas was quiet, until Charlie turned to you, "(y/n) from Las Nevadas, if I'm Charlie- where- where?"

You smiled, "Do you want to be Charlie from Las Nevadas?"

By the end of the same week, after having gotten Charlie fully on board, and slight agreement from Foolish, word finally came from Purpled.

You'd been working on the next phase of the whole Nevadas Project when Charlie rushed in, "(y/n) from Las Nevadas! There's someone here!"

You frowned, "Who?"

"Purpled from UFO!" He practically yelled.

Standing, you tucked your papers away, "That's perfect Charlie, thank you. Do you want to come with to help show him around?"

He nodded, following you out of your office.

Outside, you found Purpled, along with his dog, looking up at the casino in awe.

"Purpled! You came!" You called cheerfully.

The boy turned, a strange expression you couldn't read on his face, "What? No 'I told you so'? No 'I knew you'd come around eventually'?"

You shrugged, "I'm just glad you finally came."

He sighed, "It's not like they needed me anywhere else."

You put a hand on his shoulder, "That's alright, We need you here."

"They- I went to tell Ponk I was leaving," Purpled sounded too broken, too tired, "He said he was too busy to talk to me."

Before you could say anything, he continued, "I had a house, near L'Manhole. I- I uh blew it up, to see what would happen," His shoulders began to shake, ever so slightly, as he finished in a whisper, "No one even noticed."

In one quick move you wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into a hug, "It's okay Kid, it'll be okay now."

That was how your fiancé found you, standing outside the main casino, a teen all but sobbing into your shirt, Charlie looking on confused.

And so, the time passed, Las Nevadas grew, and you and your new little family did along with it.

Quackity found it funny, really, your ability to bring people onto your side be connecting with them emotionally, and as he put it, all but adopting them.

Charlie still took up a room in the apartments you and Quackity staid in above the offices. Purpled would come over when things around the country weren't so busy, and you'd talk for hours, Foolish joining in some of the time.

Fundy, on his first night in the city, had broken down to you, the same as Purpled, but you'd helped him put himself together. Though Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo didn't have official places in Las Nevadas, it seemed a chunk of their time was spent there.

Yep, that was your new strange family. You, Your fiancé and the kids but not really young enough to still be kids you accidently adopted.

Now, you reflected on this quietly, from the top of the needle.

"You okay?" Quackity asked softly, looking over at you.

You chuckled softly, "Can you believe that it's been two years?"

"No, can you?"

You shook your head, "You know, I've been thinking. A long time ago, you told me we were better off with out Karl and Sapnap."

He watched silently, as you pulled the other two rings that you had kept, holding them up by the chain they were strung on.

"Maybe- you were right- and maybe it's finally time to get married. Just us. We didn't need them to get here, we won't need them for anything else."

A small smile slipped onto Quackity's lips, "Would you marry me?"

"You already know the answer to that." You chuckled.

"So it's a yes?"

"Obviously." You scoffed.

"When should we have the ceremony then?" He asked.

"Right now," You mused, "We opened that wedding hall for a reason, right? We could get married proper, right now. It's already decorated the way Tubbo originally planed."

He laughed, "Let's do it tomorrow that way we have time to get like, notices out and shit."

You smiled, "Of course."

The sun had begun to set during this discussion, and you looked out over the peaceful landscape with a soft sigh, yes, this, this was home.

And even as you heard Charlie tripping and crashing his way up the stairs, the thought still filled your head.

"Quackity and (y/n) from Las Nevadas!" He exclaimed, "Purpled from Las Nevadas found some people by the border!"

In an instant, both you and Quackity were standing, "What were they doing?"

"Looking around, real weird like. Fundy From Las Nevadas said they might be here to attack us! I hope they aren't."

You followed Quackity past him and back down from the tower, drawing your sword as Charlie called out where he had left Purpled and the mystery people.

What you found was not what you expected.

Purpled stood, sword drawn and pointed at the men you least expected to see now.

Karl looked scared, tucked back behind Sapnap who was moving to draw his own sword.

Not another move!" You barked, moving to stand in line with Purpled.

Karl's face light up upon seeing you, "(y/n)! Quackity! I missed you!"

"Did you?" Quackity spit.

"Sapnap drop your sword." You commanded, not paying attention to the strange look on their faces, no one, and I mean no, pulled a sword on your family.

He frowned, "Wh- (y/n) don't be like that. I get it- but- why..."

"What are your intentions? Why have you come here?" You asked.

"We wanted to find you!" Karl said, "We missed you (y/n)."

"Uhh, that's (y/n) from Las Nevadas to you." Charlie said.

Quackity sighed, grabbing Charlie by the collar and pulling him back, "Sorry- he's been learning sass and sarcasm lately."

"Still, what are you doing here?" You pushed.

"We wanted to find you! You've been gone so long, we thought we'd go looking." Sapnap explained.

"We've been gone?" You scoffed, "You were the ones who disappeared."

Karl moved forward, grabbing your left hand, and Quackity's right, "We just wanted to come back, to finally get married."

You pulled away, slowly sheathing your sword, "You can't be serious?"

"What do you mean?" Karl asked, the smile just beginning to drip off his face.

"You fucking left us- We were just trying to make a place for the four of us to be safe and you left us! And now you want back? Out of the blue?" Your voice steadily grew louder, "You cannot show up here after abandoning us like that!"

Quackity gently took your hand, murmuring, "(y/n)..."

"No. They don't get to do this!" You turned to him, watching his face change upon seeing the mix of anger and sadness in your eyes.

"W- We'll talk about this tomorrow, away from the kids," He asserted, for once not earning any protest about age from Purpled or Fundy, "Charlie, you think you can take these guys on a tour of the place?"

He nodded eagerly, "This way this way!"

As Sapnap, Karl, Purpled and FUndy began to trudge after him, Quackity turned to you, "(y/n)?"

You just shook your head, pulling your hand out of his and starting away.

~~ Purpled had followed the tour party quietly, taking a page from Charlie's book and watching, observing everything.

He had seen the pain in your face at the suggestion of marriage, and the anger in Quackity's just upon seeing them.

So, he followed the men warily, watching the way Karl exclaimed about how he had built an Effile tower just like the one in the city in Manberg, and the way that Sapnap mentioned fondly how the décor at the wedding hall matched the ones you two had always spoken about.

Hearing it nearly drove him mad. Did they not realize that it had all been for them? That dreams of them arriving were the only thing that had ruled Your and Quackity's minds?

When Charlie had directed the group, which by now included some of the other tourists, past one of the bars, he stopped.

Inside, Quackity was slumped at the bar, a bottle of whiskey in hand.

"Drinking away your problems won't solve them." Purpled sighed, pulling the bottle away from him.

"We were doing so good without them. You know that Purp. But here they are, back and ready to fuck things up again. That's how it's always been." He muttered.

The boy shook his head, "They don't realize how destructive they are? Do they?"

"Never have." He sighed.

"Lets get you back home."

Quackity allowed himself to be manhandled into standing, and then led out of the bar, back toward the offices, and toward the apartment.

"(y/n) will figure it out. They always do." Purpled assured him, pulling open the apartment door and ushering him in.

"But they shouldn't have too," He sighed, running a hand through his hair, not bothered by the way his beanie fell to the floor, "They've dealt with so much without help. Yet they're always the ones to help us."

Once he had wrangled Quackity into the bedroom, Purpled headed back out, finding Fundy at the base of the Needle, "They up there?"

"Yeah," The hybrid sighed, "Quackity?"

"Got drunk. He's- painfully coherent though." He winced.

Fundy ran a hand through his hair, "It's hard to believe one of the nicest people around is the one to fuck them up like this."

"Makes perfect sense to me," Purpled said as they began to make their way toward the stairs, "My first night here- I was having a hard time, because- the whole server acted like I didn't exist. (y/n) told me about how Sapnap and Karl had abandoned them."

"Did it seem this bad though?" Fundy asked.

"No- but that was before they turned up again talking about marriage."

By now they had reached the top of the tower, and Purpled could see where you sat by the ledge, feet dangling over. Quietly, they both sat down on either side of you.

"How's Q?" You asked quietly after a moment.

"Drunk, but back at your apartment, well supplied with water." Purpled reported.

You nodded, "And K and- Karl and Sapnap?"

"Waaay to blissfully ignorant." Fundy said.

Quiet held you three in silence for a moment, until at last Purpled sighed, asking, almost bitterly, "So- are you gonna marry them? You were going to once."

"Even if I did it wouldn't change anything here." You mumbled.

"Sapnap was talking about how cool it would be to come back and visit from Kinoko after the honeymoon." Fundy admitted.

Before you could say anything Purpled drew one of his knees to his chest, "I- don't- it feels like they'd be taking you away from us- I like it the way it is. Things are nice, and they're just fucking it up."

Fundy nodded, "As much as I hate to say it, he's right. If you people all get married nothing will be the same. I kind of liked having parental figures, I don't want them messing that up."

"They won't." You promised softly.

By god, if you hadn't already made up your mind, their words would've swayed you.

~~ After a while, you stood, "Let's go home."

They followed you tiredly, Charlie joining the mini procession at one intersection, telling you that Sapnap and Karl had gone to get a hotel room.

At the apartment, Quackity was sitting on the couch, already seeming more sober than Purpled had told you. When you sat next to him, his arms were quick to wrap around you, holding you like a lifeline.

Charlie took his place on the other side of the couch, Purpled curled up in the armchair, and Fundy dug around until he found one of the old projectors he'd left there, queuing up a movie.

"Hey, just like on Nightmare's days!" Charlie laughed, referring to the infamous 16th, where, just about every month it seemed you, Fundy, Quackity and sometime Purpled would have nightmares of the Manburg Pogtopia war, and everyone would congregate in the living room to watch one of Fundy's movies.

"Sure as hell feels like one." Quackity muttered.

And so you watched the movie, though your thoughts drifted, thinking of how you would deal with your reappearing ex-fiancés.

As you thought, you created a mini script in your head. Exactly what you would say came you.

"You didn't need us then, and we don't need you now."

Yes, you thought, leaning more into Quackity's side, thats what you'd say, after you talked about your new family.

(and the next day, you did just that)

#mcyt x reader #quackity x reader #quackity imagines #sapnap x karl x quackity x reader #karlnapity #karlnapity x reader #teddy 06 writes #teddy06 #teddy 06 #I was going to write the full confrontaion #but I didn't have it in me

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delicrieux · 4 years

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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sagendipity · 3 years

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reminder i'm sage i used to be notplanningshit until i accidentally deleted my blog so now im reposting my works!

info: quackity x reader, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, no warnings

on frizzy hair and the pursuit of perfection

Intellectually, in the rational side of your brain, you know that what you’re feeling is stupid.

You see the Instagram posts talking about the importance of self-affirmation and mental health. You see the tweets saying that people are more than their family’s perception of them. You realize that having a condescending and judgmental family is almost a right of passage for your generation.

These are all things you know, intellectually. But knowing something intellectually does jack shit for actually convincing your heart of whatever you know. You can yell at yourself all you want, but it’s clearly not your rational brain making you tear up at yet another text from your dad that was along the lines of “cool, could be better, though.”

You just want someone, just once, to celebrate an achievement with you. You want to be excited to share something with someone, without fear of them scoffing in the face of your pride and excitement. In your family- hell, in the world, certainly- someone has always done better, and you’re damn sure to be reminded of such.

It’s been years of this same behavior, ever since you can remember. It’s not just your dad, either, it’s your whole family- aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins. The whole town you grew up in had this haughty, arrogant air about it, where everyone was constantly competing, even if there was no reason for it. Take the hardest classes, get the least sleep, get the biggest scholarship. Even your friends would flex their better test scores at you, and refuse to help you with the homework, in case you somehow got a better score on a test than them. You know it’s how they were raised, they’re just a product of their environment and don’t know how bad it hurts, but it still stung then, and probably always will. You’re still in contact with a few of them, and it’s just more of the same whenever you exchange a handful of quick texts every couple months.

You know you should stop giving information about your achievements to them, but when your dad texts and asks how you are, there’s not much you can reply with other than “good, got a promotion at work!” From there, it’s a slippery slope of him asking what new benefits you got, and then the judgmental few moments where the gray dots disappear and reappear while he tries to compose his thoughts about your inadequacy in the least-abrasive way a middle-aged man can. That is to say, not un-abrasively at all. In fact, his words are often delivered with the finesse of low-grit sandpaper on soft wood.

Well, could be more. Work harder and maybe you’ll get an increase next month. I got a lot of bonuses at work when I was your age. All you have to do is take the bad shifts and get some good customer reviews. You’ll get there.

You stare at the fresh new message on your phone screen before clicking it off with a bone-deep sigh, your eyes betraying your rational side by, again, tearing up. You shove the heels of your hands into your eyes and rub until the tears are forced away and you see spots.

That’s how Alex finds you, sat on the foot of your shared bed with your hands rubbing fiercely at your eyes. He’s probably just come to grab a hoodie- the setting sun brings with it a cool breeze that washes through your open windows and cools the house from the warmth it’d gathered from the day’s sun.

“You good?” He asks, opening his closet door and pulling out a hoodie. He wrestles it on over his head as he waits for your response- when he pushes his head out the other end, hair mussed and static-y, you still haven’t answered. “Baby?”

He comes and sits down next to you. Your eyes, red-rimmed but still dry, track his movements before flicking to catalog every tuft of disheveled hair protruding from his head. With a superficial smile, you reach up to smooth his long, black locks back and down into place. It doesn’t matter; he’s going to slip on a beanie sooner or later, but for now, you distract yourself by combing gentle fingers through the soft strands.

“Not that I don’t appreciate this,” Alex murmurs, brown eyes searching your face for an answer to what has you upset. “But what’s wrong?”

“Just my dad,” you whisper, not trusting your voice not to crack. You avoid his gaze, keeping your eyes fixed stubbornly on his hair as you finish your work. “There. You looked like a hedgehog.”

He huffs a little laugh, but scoots closer to you and grabs a hand out of your lap- you’d curled your hands into tight fists, your nails digging little red crescents into your palm. He uncurls the hand he’s holding and reaches for the other, but you save him the work by instead grabbing onto your own thigh tightly, redirecting the frustration. He rubs small circles into the aching skin of your other palm while he waits for you to gather yourself and explain, now that the ice has been broken on the topic.

“He always acts like whatever I do is just not quite good enough for him. They all do- him, my mom, even my fucking friends.” You rub your free hand down your face, trying to alleviate some tension. It does not work. “I don’t know why I’m still upset. They’ve been doing it forever.”

“That’s probably why you’re still upset. You hope they’d grown up enough to stop doing that.” Alex presses his thumb into the center of your palm. It grounds you, and you swallow around the lump in your throat.

“It’s not even a matter of immaturity- it’s not as simple as a pissing contest. It’s just who they are. They don’t think perfection exists, but they want me to achieve it anyways.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. That sounds exhausting.”

He sounds so sincere, so genuine, like the idea of you being treated this way is deeply upsetting to him. You’d never really… experienced that. Someone recognizing your struggle, and admitting that it must fucking suck is something you’d never been graced with.

His brow is furrowed in a display of concern, eyes gentle and searching. He’s not lying, he means what he said, and he’s not going to follow it up with a “but-,”.

Eyes beginning to sting again, you lean forward until you’re resting your forehead on his shoulder. The soft fabric of his hoodie immediately calms you, along with the warmth you can feel emanating from him. It makes sense, after all, that the personification of pure sunshine would have such warmth about them.

Alex scoots forward, gathering you more closely in his arms, his legs awkwardly folded so that you can sit right in front of him. His hands come up to hold you, one fisting in the fabric of your sweatshirt, and the other resting on the back of your neck, gentle, but firm. You let out a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. Not going to cry.

“I got a promotion at work,” you mutter, taking a long, deep breath. You brace yourself, waiting for a dismissive response. “That’s what set my dad off- I got- he-.”

Your voice cracks, and you trail off with a small sigh, clutching at Alex’s hoodie even tighter. It’s thick and soft under your fingers, and you knead at it like a cat.

“A promotion?! Baby, that’s amazing!” Alex pulls back just enough to take a glance at you, his own expression steeling from excitement back to sadness as he sees that you are still fighting back tears. “Sweetheart, I think you’re the only person to ever cry after getting a promotion.”

A little laugh escapes your chest, huffy and wet, but still a laugh. Alex’s lips curl into a smile as he reaches up to smooth back some of your stray hairs, like you’d done for him a moment or two ago. You smile, reaching up to intercept his hand, and lace the two of you’s fingers together.

He squeezes your hand where it’s resting in his grip, looking at your linked fingers briefly. “Also, your family is wrong.”

“About what specifically?” You huff, wiping at your eyes for hopefully the final time.

“About perfection not existing. It does, and I know exactly what it looks like.” Despite the serious words, Alex is fighting back a smile. You narrow your eyes at him, already anticipating the next thing he’s going to say. “It looks like you, dumbass.”

You groan, feeling a hot blush rise to your cheeks immediately. You tip forward to bury yourself in Alex’s neck, this time hiding your flustered face and stupidly happy grin.

“I can feel your smile against my neck, you know.”

“Oh, fuck off-.”

With the hand that’s on the back of your neck, Alex coaxes you out of hiding just to press a kiss to your forehead. “Really. I am proud of you. I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me about your achievements because of what your family has done to you.”

“Okay,” you whisper again, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

He hums in response, tilting his head and looking at you with what can only be described as pure fondness in his eyes. Then, he leans down to meet you for a delicate kiss, and your eyes finally stop stinging.

#sage vs quackity #quackity #quackity imagine #quackity x reader #quackity headcanon #quackity fanfiction #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt headcanons #alex quackity #quackity hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 4 years

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Dream SMP Recap (March 5/2021) - Ponk’s Warning

Foolish has another encounter with Ponk, who attempts to persuade him to the Egg’s side. Ponk gives Foolish a time: five days. Foolish needs to prepare.

Tubbo, Ranboo, Fundy and Phil, meanwhile, get into the usual family drama, especially concerning Michael.

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VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

Tubbo

Philza

Fundy

Ranboo

Captain Puffy

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- Ponk is in the Egg Room. He laments that everything has been taken from him. His cat, already dead, taken by Puffy. Sam? All he cares about his money and getting good at chess apparently.

- At least he has Starbucks...and the Egg. He says he’s warming up to it.

- Maybe he should’ve killed Fran, sacrificed her to the Egg?

- Ponk speaks with Foolish, makes many wooden shovels, and eventually starts dropping TNT on him, asking for Netherite.

- Ponk declares war on Foolish. Blood, tears, and explosions, in that order. He gets out the Master Oogway music.

Ponk: “When the cherry blossoms fall from the tree, you know the time has come, alright? Foolish, your land will ascend into beauty by the power of the Vines! Foolish, embrace it! Embrace it, it makes you feel good!”

“Foolish, look...listen to me, okay? When I had nothing, when I was at my lowest, I thought I could turn to my friends. But I realized that...friends? They let you down, okay? They will turn their back on you when your time of need is there, when it was most important for you, when you were at your most vulnerable.”

“Foolish...this isn’t about me. This is about how great the Egg is, okay? Look, Foolish...Blood and fire! Blood and fire, okay? I’ve warned you.”

Foolish: “I’ll find a way to help you.”

Ponk: “The Egg? It made me see the lighter side of life. When you join the Egg, everyone is the same! You don’t have to be careful about what people think about you, because all you think about is the Egg! So Foolish...join us or be taken from us, Foolish. I’m giving you options. I’m hurt, I’m hurt, okay?”

Foolish: “Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t be with you on this one.”

...

(Ponk switches the music)

...

Ponk: “Foolish...I am giving you five days! Five days, Foolish!”

- Ponk laughs with the voice of the Egg.

“Foolish...Foolish!”

Foolish: “Am I talking to Ponk or someone else right now?”

“We know where you live!”

- Ponk’s voice goes back to normal. He asks for the trident. They bicker a bit, but the warning goes back to five days: the 10th of March.

- Foolish leaves.

- Back at the Temple of Undying, Foolish clears off the Blood Vines from his statue.

Foolish: “Ponk did warn me earlier...and it seems like Ponk has lost a bit more of himself. He’s aligning more and more with the Egg, which is a sad thing to see. But he said five days -- five days from now, they’ll come for me.”

- Foolish plans to prepare, perhaps adding more wards, guards, maybe even a more powerful statue. One that could touch the clouds.

Foolish: “I still have tricks up my sleeve...but that being said, the Egg might also still have tricks up their sleeve, and maybe it’s a game of chess now."

- Maybe he could raise an army.

- He burns the shreds in the blue soul fire. Five days to prepare, and make ready for whatever will happen.

- Tubbo and Ranboo create a room for Michael in Tubbo’s attic.

- They go down to the Egg Room bunker. Tubbo asks Ranboo for an Egg update.

- Tubbo asks if they should break it. Ranboo explains that the Egg damages you.

- Tubbo is about to break open the Egg to see what’s inside but is stopped when he finds out that Tommy is trying to ratio Obama.

- Tubbo finds out that the Egg hurts you by breaking blocks himself.

- They leave the bunker and finish the room.

- Fundy goes to the Arctic with plans to make a slowly expanding dirt shack.

- Ranboo and Phil catch him. He says he came there because he misses them.

- Phil gets mad at Fundy about the Butcher Army.

- Phil is a Ranboo apologist

- Tubbo goes “whee” and whales on Fundy with an axe to quench his thirst for blood.

- Tubbo gets Fundy to climb a tall tower of scaffolding with the task to jump into a block of water to gain a quarter of his stuff back each time as Tubbo, Ranboo and Phil shoot at him with arrows.

Fundy asks why Tubbo must play such cruel games to get his stuff back. Tubbo says he’s bored, and it’s for his own sick enjoyment.

Ranboo: “Is this what hunting is?”

Tubbo: “Yeah, people go hunting for foxes, except they have horses.”

- They consider showing Fundy Michael.

- Hannah’s house has been covered in Blood Vines.

- Phil scolds Fundy again, but says he’ll deal with Tubbo later.

- Phil’s only biological son is Wilbur, everyone else just calls him “dad.”

- They show Fundy Michael in Snowchester.

- Tubbo says he’s wearing Dream’s armor. Phil throws him a Manberg shield, saying he “might as well complete the set.”

- Fundy asks if they’ve told Techno yet. Ranboo realizes oh, that’s not going to go over well...

- Fundy and Phil criticize Tubbo and Ranboo’s parenting techniques.

Ranboo: “Fundy, remind me again what experience you have with parents?”

- Tubbo kills Fundy and Fundy threatens to kill Michael if they don’t give back his stuff.

- Fundy notices his armor is missing from the chest. Phil was keeping it to see if Fundy would kill Michael. Phil gives Fundy’s armor back but Fundy notices Phil kept Shclatt.

- A snow fox drowns by accident and Phil gives Fundy back his sword as he goes to leave. Why does everything around him die?

- As Fundy leaves, he sets off a creeper.

Phil: “Runs in the family.”

Fundy: “FAMILY -- YOU ACKNOWLEDGED THAT I’M PART OF THE F-- WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?”

Phil: “Shiiiiit -- nothing, you didn’t do anything wrong!”

Fundy: “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?”

Fundy: “Philll! I love you grandpa!”

Phil: “Ugh, Jesus.”

- After Phil logs off, Fundy goes back to the Arctic to resume his plan.

---

Upcoming Events:

- Quackity’s business opening

- Technoblade’s lore stream

- Puffy’s lore streams (Origin story Sunday)

- March 10th

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

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stuff-from-the-void-matron · 3 years

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Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (8)

(c!Technoblade x fem!Reader)

(Still no Tech this time, please don’t be mad! But hey we’re in L’manberg now! That’s pog right? Plus we officially meet Wilb and Fundy! But remember y’all, if this chapter doesn’t do well then I can’t write chapter 9! So show chapter 8 some love!! <3)

—————

MOAR ART!

I tried drawing Reader! -> She.

And xoxoyukixoxo-art-dump on here drew her too! She looks so SICK! SHE!

----

He’d been watching her for some time now.

Not all day and night like some weirdo but he’d noticed instantly when she’d ‘logged on’ so to speak. The first thing to make him curious was him wondering how she arrived here in the first place, but when he tried teleporting to this new person it strangely hadn’t worked. He’d simply not gone anywhere, which was beyond puzzling. He should be able to teleport to anyone on this server. That little tidbit, the not being able to teleport to her, was the second thing to make him curious. So curious in fact that he spent a very long time just looking for her. When the ability to teleport to her was no longer an option he’d found searching for someone was much harder, but in the end he’d found her. And good lord was she a big one. Not taller than endermen or anything bigger but she definitely towered over the villagers she lived with.

He didn’t know how she ended up here since you needed an invite to be allowed on the server. And he knows she wasn’t invited, because he knows ALL the people who are invited. Hell, at one point he even tried banning her (an action which kicks players from the server) but… nothing had happened. He’d been hidden and watching her when he’d done it and she’d not even noticed, just kept on planting flowers around one of the villager’s houses without a care in the world.

He’d unbanned her and nothing changed again. Then he’d tried using other commands on her. Teleport, clear, give, and even Kill. Not a single one did anything. That made him nervous. He’d never encountered something like this before. It was unheard of. If this player decided to become hostile, or End forbid, GENOCIDAL… it would have very disastrous consequences for the other players on the server..

He decided then and there to monitor her deeply until further notice.

Which turned into him popping up by her village and sneaking in to watch her and what she did day in and day out for a few months. And honestly.. She seemed pretty benign.

All she really did was change up the village she lived in and decorate. When not doing those things she would do other hobbies like cooking and potion making. She’d also leave the village sometimes to just explore. He took those chances to go inside her home and snoop around. He also noticed aggressive mobs were pretty neutral towards her for whatever reason. That only ever happened if a player had a clear relation to a mob (aka a hybrid) or if the player had creative… Which it looked like she had. But she also didn’t look fully human.

“What a strange being you are..”

-0-

Before you knew it the next day had come, bright and early.

You’d had to go back to the Overworld around sunrise to get ready to greet Tubbo. You’d explained to Azo that you’d try to come back as soon as you could but for now you had to go on a trip for a while. She was sad to see you go but said okay and to hurry back. Your heart broke all over again, feeling terrible that you had to leave her alone but there was nothing you could do. You’d bring her with you if it were possible but you knew her entering the Overworld would turn her into a zombie instantly. And that’s not a fate you’re willing to make anyone go through.

But you left her a chest with some golden carrots, some apples, and even some of the stew you’d made for Tubbo and Tommy. She liked the stew, so you left her a few bowls and even some juice to drink in case she got thirsty. You hugged her goodbye and told her you’d bring her a gift back. She nodded happily and then you sadly had to leave through the portal. Which you made sure to destroy after exiting it. Didn’t want anything wandering through. That would be a disaster.

Once you were back in the overworld you went home and sat on your bed and just thought. More than anything you just wanted to step in and prevent Schlatt and Quackity from winning. But you didn’t know if doing that would have dangerous consequences or not. You’d seen so many movies where a small change in the past ends up having massive effects in the future. Damn butterfly effects. Stopping them from winning the election could end up causing a civil war within L’manburg. Or Tubbo, Tommy, or Wilbur could end up hurt or even lose a life. Or something even more devastating could happen.

...But you hated the thought of Tommy and Wilbur getting exiled. It wasn’t fair or just. Especially while getting shot at and chased down like dogs. Schlatt and Quackity really pissed you off with that part. Seeing Ponk and Punz just instantly turn on the two original founders left you feeling utterly appalled. Schlatt hadn’t even been sworn in as president yet! He’d not taken an oath or anything! None of what he ‘decreed’ should have been taken as law! None of it was legal-

You pause. None of that WAS legal.. right? Did the citizens even know that? Were they aware that simply winning an election wasn’t the instant inauguration that Schlatt and Quackity made it out to be? Surely there was more to L’manburg than simply the bare bones parts that were shown on youtube in your original world. There had to be actual systemic structure for this whole ass small country. You wanted to believe there was, because the alternative made you facepalm. But at this point you honestly just didn’t know. You would need to have a discussion with Wilbur and Tommy (Wilbur more so since he was the adult in this situation).

You needed to talk to Wilbur asap.

-0-

Tubbo and Tommy came to get you bright and early, the blond looking more anxious than he was trying to let on. Seeing the usually so upbeat and grinning boy so nervous made your stomach churn. So you’d pulled him into a hug, not even letting him finish his greeting to you before you did. He went silent and was tense at first. But you took in a breath and said in as reassuring a tone as you could physically muster,

“Don’t worry kiddo. Things WILL be okay. I’ll make sure of it, alright?”

Tommy was silent, but you could hear the choked gasp of breath the boy took in, and you felt how his lanky body seemed to relax in your hold. He awkwardly put his arms around your back, seemingly not used to this, the whole hugging thing. At least not such heartfelt ones. He’s hugged Tubbo, Wilbur, and Philza but this one just felt different. It felt safer. Like if he stayed here nothing could hurt him. It was weird but.. nice. Part of the boy didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to leave this new safe place. Here hugging you there was no fear of losing the election, no worries of wars with the DSMP, there was nothing bad. Just a pleasant warmth he felt like he could just fall asleep to.

But the bigger part of him knew he’d never hide away from his problems. It wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t some baby coward who hid behind mommy for protection when shit got tough. (missing how his subconscious referred to you as ‘mom’) He was a MAN! Nevermind he was barely 16! He was practically an adult (in his own eyes)! He’d fought in a war for independence! He’d battled for his and his countrymen’s freedom! There’s no way he’d cower away from this damned election!

With a new fire in him, largely in part to the confidence you seemed to have for him and L’manburg, he eventually pulled back from the hug and gave you one of his signature bright grins. He said thanks but there’s no way he was worrying! Like you said, things were gonna be fine! You gave him an encouraging smile in return and agreed, then added that if anything DID go wrong you’d stick by them and make sure it all got resolved. The teens looked grateful for your support. But then you bid the villagers goodbye for now and told the iron golems to make sure to keep them all safe.

Then you three were off to L’manburg.

-0-

Walking into L’manburg was weird. You’d only ever seen parts of it via the videos you’d watched from the various minecraft youtubers. But being there in person was wild, seeing all the buildings and pathways was interesting though. Tommy and Tubbo changed into their ‘presidential attire’, which were just those vaguely old school British military uniforms they wore at the start of the L’manburg thing. You still ruffled their hair and cooed over them, saying they looked like official little men. They got all huffy and Tommy swatted your hand away, making you laugh. Tubbo suggested showing you around before the election began, which you thought was a good idea. So the pair escorted you around L’manburg, showing you the main places plus their houses and favorite spots. You gave Tommy a Look and asked him if he really lived in a dirt hut.

“It’s DIRT Tommy, not even cobblestone. Just a dirty dirt hut,” you said with a sigh.

Tubbo snickered while Tommy tried defending himself. But he honestly was just making excuses though thankfully he got cut off by Wilbur showing up. He was in the same uniform as both teenagers and you saw him giving you a wide eyed look as he walked up. You could tell he was used to not being around someone so much taller than him. Which you guess made sense since he’d been hanging out with teenagers, a girl, and his own son mostly. You think Dream is taller than him but you don’t know how often they’re around each other peacefully to notice height..

“Oh, hello, you must be Reader! Tommy and Tubbo have told me about you!” the brunet man said with a charming smile.

You returned the smile and held your hand out for him to shake. He gave a firm handshake and you said he must be Wilbur and that the boys had mentioned him to you. He gave a sly smile to the two boys and asked if that was so, and said he hoped they’d said good things about him. Not liking his teasing tone Tommy cut in and said he told you about Wilbur being a bitch! You laughed and Wilbur punched Tommy in the shoulder, laughing when the boy loudly claimed he was abusing a child!

Wilbur rolled his eyes at the blond boy and asked what the occasion for you visiting his lovely country was. You gave a relaxed smile and said you just wanted to come out and support ‘big man’ and Tubbo on this exciting day! Wilbur smiled and perked up when Tubbo said they were giving you a tour of L’manburg. Wilbur asked why the shortest boy didn’t say so before and gestured for you to follow him, saying the best person to give a tour is always the president! You liked his charming enthusiasm but you could still see the nervousness just lurking under the surface for all three of them. You hated that their worry was justified.

-0-

Wilbur took over showing you around, Tubbo and Tommy right behind him adding little comments here and there to irk him. You ohh’d and ahh’d at the polite times, even saying how cool the place was. You even got shown Wilbur’s ‘ball house’ and their extensive nether pathways briefly. You got a bit distracted in the Nether, wondering if Azo was okay. Though you supposed she was a tough kid, what with having survived in the Nether her whole life so far. But she was just a little kid, still a toddler. She shouldn’t have to survive. She should be living.

“And I guess that’s the whole tour! I hope we’ve given you a good impression of my country~” Wilbur said with a smile, thoroughly snapping your attention back to the present.

You were thankful they couldn’t see how your eyes widened when you realized you’d totally zoned out during the last leg of the tour. Instead of worrying you just gushed and said you’d been really dazzled! The trio grinned and you ruffled Tommy’s hair and said you could expect no less from the big man himself and sweet Tubbo. The pair were happy to hear you praising the country they’d worked so hard to have, with Tommy even playfully swatting your hand away from your hair and saying anything he helped with would be the best. Wilbur gave a very big brother reply of ‘oh really?’ that was dripping with doubt, which started to set Tommy off.

The two started going back and forth, causing you to roll your eyes. Yeah they definitely had the brother vibe about them. Though Wilbur lost interest in arguing when he spotted someone a bit aways behind you and Tommy. He perked up and waved, calling out ‘FUNDY!’ to get his son’s attention. You all glanced over to see a fox hybrid in a uniform that was the same as the boys around you, only the coloring was off. Fundy’s was more pastel colored while the others were darker/more saturated. Wilbur waved him over and you noticed the way Fundy’s muzzle scrunched up when Wilbur threw an arm around his shoulders, but you said nothing. Not really your place but from what you remember of the smp videos… Wilbur wasn’t the ideal father figure to his furry son..

“Fundy, this is Reader! She’s a friend of Tubbo and Tommy’s! She came to support us today,” Wilbur said with a smile.

The fox quirked an eyebrow at you and asked a mildly incredulous voice if your name was actually ‘Reader’. Tommy told him to shut up and pointed out that his name was ‘Fundy’ so he had no room to be criticizing anybody’s name. Fundy raised his paws in surrender and said fine, whatever, no need to jump down his throat about it. You chuckled and said it was okay, it was a rather odd name. And you liked his name, it was cool. Tommy actually boo’d you while Fundy smiled, glad at least someone stuck up for him. Though that reminded Fundy to ask Wilbur if he’d seen the ballots…

Wilbur’s mood darkened and he gave a clipped, “Yeah, I saw them.” His tone making the other L’manburg citizens feel uncomfortable. You spoke up, asking what was wrong with them? Had someone tampered with them or something? Fundy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck and said yes and no. Yes someone had changed them but it wasn’t really ‘tampering’, just altering to fit with the new campaign runners. She gave his upset father a side glance, his triangular shaped ears going back when he saw the way Wilbur’s eyebrows were furrowed and his jaw clenched. Seems the current president was still pissed off that his son and first lady had decided to run against him together..

“Well we had to change the ballots to include all the people running, and even an ‘other’ option… Yeah,” Fundy said lowly.

You couldn’t help the way you raised an eyebrow at that and said,

“Isn’t that just the standard for ballots? Designing ballots to not show all the people their options would just be criminal.”

Wilbur didn’t seem to like your (in his opinion) unwanted input and said however L’manburg designed their ballots was none of your business anyways, especially since you weren’t even a citizen. You could feel yourself narrowing your eyes at the brunet, though nobody could see it, and replied that you didn’t need to be a citizen to point out that not putting all the names of those running on an ELECTORAL BALLOT was hugely unethical and borderline malicious hindrance to the citizen’s right to free choice. This little snit between you and the current president had dropped the mood low, with the three boys beside you looking more than uncomfortable.

But thankfully Tubbo found his voice and before Wilbur could retort to your statement he turned to you and said the election and debate would be starting soon and that he’d sit in the audience with you. This reminded Wilbur that he needed to practice his speech and debate responses with Tommy so he straightened his posture and adjusted his coat before giving you a faux smile and then telling Tubbo they’d see him afterwards. You kept a polite smile on your face as the four led you to an open part of the village center where a large stage/platform had been built along with seating in front of it. Wilbur jerked his thumb towards the stage and told Tommy to come on and the blond boy said he’d be right there in a moment. The brunet looked put out but nodded and stalked off, leaving the four alone in the audience area.

Once he was out of earshot you turned to Tommy and gave him a disbelieving look and said in a hushed tone,

“Tommy, you and Wilbur weren’t ACTUALLY planning to tamper with the ballots were you?? That’s insanely unconstitutional! The people of L’manburg have a right to know and be able to choose whichever voting option they want. If they don’t have that option then it’s not a real election, it’s just the illusion of choice.”

The blond looked uncomfortable, sweating and avoiding eye lens contact with you. He felt ashamed because… well that HAD been the plan. At least Wilbur told him it had been before Quackity found out. He’d not been sure about the plan but he hadn’t done much to argue with Wilbur either. He’d convinced himself it wasn’t that big of a deal, but seeing how shocked and offended you looked that they’d even thought about doing that made him feel like a bastard. You saw how nervous he looked and sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing softly before reassuring him you weren’t angry.

“I’m not mad at you Tommy, I’m just disappointed that this was something you went along with. You have to know how wrong that was? Imagine you were a regular citizen and you voted in the election but later found out it was all rigged, you’d never had a choice regarding your country like you’d been led to believe. Wouldn’t you feel wronged?”

Tommy seemed to deflate at your words but gave a remorseful nod, neither of you noticing that your words seemed to have also struck a chord with both Fundy and Tubbo as well. You gave the blond boy a reassuring smile, saying that part of being a member of government was respecting the people’s choices. Even if you think it’s stupid and wrong. You have to let the people choose for themselves. The ability to choose is sometimes the only difference between merely existing on this bitch of a world and actually Living~

Tommy seemed to have taken your words to heart, making you smile at him before pulling him into a half hug and saying sincerely,

“I’m proud of you Tommy, Tubbo too. You’ve both done so much for this country. More than any child should ever have to. I wish more than anything that you’d not HAD to sacrifice and lose so much. But I’ll be here to support you both going forward. I just don’t want either of you doing anything unethical. You’re both better than that.”

Tubbo almost teared up and came over and let his face rest against your side in a show of affection. He’d never had anyone say they were proud of him before and honestly.. he didn’t know how badly he needed to hear it until you said it. Tommy leaned into your hug, close to tearing up like his best friend but he blinked rapidly until the tears faded.

None of them noticed the envious way Fundy stared at them, feeling jealousy bubble in his stomach at the way you seemed to care for the two boys. He felt childish for feeling that way but he couldn’t help it. You clearly cared about the two in a maternal way, that much was obvious. But you weren’t treating them like babies either. You were respectful and loving at the same time. Fundy wondered if that’s what it was like to have a mother..

“TOMMY! COME ON! THE RALLY STARTS SOON!”

They all broke away when they heard Wilbur yelling down at them from the podium. Tubbo sighed and Tommy straightened his hat before giving a cheeky smile. You told him to go give his best, and no matter what happened you’d be proud. This pumped the blond boy up and he gave a cheer before ruffling Tubbo’s hair and turning to the stage and running up around the side to get to the top, you and the brunet watching him go. That’s when you remembered the fox hybrid that was still standing close by. You offer him a calm smile and say kindly,

“So, Fundy was it?”

------

tagged folks: @salinesoot @lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @hufflepuff-demigod @corpiet @beepa99 @anxiousnarwhale @bananaaddictmilkshake

#Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #dsmp #dream smp #c!tommy #c!tuboo #c!wilbur #c!fundy

230 notes · View notes

chaolie · 3 years

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Home is where your heart is [2/3] - A new home

Here we go, another chapter for @fundyfiles' event! This chapter is probably the angstiest I'll write for this story, so keep that in mind! It's almost as long as the last one too, which I think is great! You can also find this on my Ao3!

Characters: Fundy, Yogurt, Foolish, others mentioned

Words: 3.6k

Warning: Injury (not described closely)

Chapter 1: Tumblr / Ao3

Las Nevadas was... quite a change from the forest. The thing that seemed to intrigue Yogurt the most was the sand, the boy spent the first few hours just putting his hands into it and inspecting it. Fundy knew for a fact that his son saw sand before, but never so much of it in one place, just small patches of it by the river. After the initial confusion, Yogurt appeared to accept his surroundings, and almost every time Fundy looked, he was playing in the sand. He kept running around and going back to look at the shapes he left, which quickly changed into him just drawing with his hands or, if he could find one, a stick. If he felt a bit more mischievous though, he would change into a fox, dig a hole, and then back into a human to 'decorate' it, creating a surprisingly efficient trap. It wasn't too hard to avoid those though, and the only major downside Fundy found so far was getting the sand out of his son's hair, fur, and clothes at the end of each day.

Las Nevadas had many other differences from their previous home, though. It was big, it had so much open space that they could probably walk around with their eyes closed and wouldn’t have to worry about running into a tree. It was also much louder and brighter, the countless lamps lined the streets and sometimes you couldn’t tell it was nighttime without looking up and finding the moon. It made it harder for Yogurt to fall asleep, but he always managed when Fundy sat by his side, humming soft melodies as if they were lullabies before going off to wander the streets. It helped to keep him awake, and he really didn’t want to go to sleep. His nightmares were getting more frequent, and the last thing he wanted was to alert the entire country whenever he woke up.

Speaking of, that must’ve been the biggest difference. The people. Well, they weren’t all people, most of the residents had some inhuman traits in one way or the other, but that didn’t matter too much. At first, Fundy was worried to show them his son, he wasn’t sure how’d they treat him, so for a while, only Quackity knew. Still, it was hard to hide an entire child from them, so one by one, they all figured out who the little boy they sometimes saw running around was. And they took it well, they helped Fundy if he asked, and it became an unspoken rule that if they spot him anywhere without his dad in sight, they should either inform the man, or look after him themselves. It was a good rule, he thought. It certainly made it easier to keep calm if he lost sight of Yogurt for a moment.

Some people agreed to help even more than that, and Fundy couldn’t be more grateful for them. He came up with a way to keep himself awake for longer, but he’d need someone to look after Yogurt while he tried it out. He didn’t expect much, he just hoped someone would agree to go check on him a few times a day to make sure he had food and was safe, maybe put him to bed if they felt like spending a bit more time there. Foolish, the first person he asked and a father as well, agreed to do much more than that, though. They briefly went over how Fundy took care of Yogurt and almost everything was settled, they only needed to let the kid know.

“Hey, Yogurt!” Fundy called out, and the fox kit’s head peaked out from the small tent he set up for the two of them until their new house would be finished. “Come here, I need to tell you something.”

The fox hid back inside of the tent, and just moments later ran outside as a kid instead. Fundy was very proud of how well the boy learned to shapeshift, it took him just a moment to switch from being a fox to a human and back, and the man was sure that soon there would be a day his son would be better than him at that. This wasn’t the time to marvel at that, though, there was a serious talk they had to have. As the child finally ran up to him, he crouched down and took a deep breath.

“So… You know Foolish, right?” he asked, looking over his shoulder and at the mentioned man trailing slowly behind him. Yogurt nodded eagerly. “That’s good. I… have to go somewhere, and it could take a while, so if you need anything just ask him. Okay?”

“Where...?” the kid asked, his expression falling slightly.

“Uh… you remember Quackity? He asked me to get something, but to do that, I have to travel west for a while. It could take a day, but it’ll probably be longer. But Foolish will look after you until I’m back, okay?” he explained. Despite still looking upset, the boy in front of him nodded slowly.

“...Okay,” he repeated before stepping closer and trapping his dad in a warm hug. “Bye…?” he muttered. With how rarely Fundy left, he barely used the word so far.

“Bye,” Fundy answered with a nod. “I’ll be back before you know it, I promise,” he added, gently patting his son’s head until the boy let go.

Staying on the move should help him stay awake, right? And Yogurt would be fine.

***

11 days. That’s how much time passed since Fundy left, how much time Yogurt had to spend alone. Well, not alone, Foolish took care of him, and occasionally someone else dropped by and left him some berries or other treats. His ‘designated babysitter’ sometimes brought his own kids along, and the boy really enjoyed the new company. They were fun to play with even if they just wanted to build sandcastles all day, at least Yogurt could show off his newly developed skill to his dad when he was back! Whenever that would be.

Foolish assured him every evening, it would be okay, Fundy would return soon enough. He’d return with the item he was tasked with getting and he’d probably bring Yogurt some gifts too. He also talked about how well the man could protect himself, and about how safe he must be staying… but the kid didn’t doubt that to begin with. He wasn’t worried that his dad would get hurt or lost, he was just… lonely. He missed him. Having his dad near meant that he was safe, and that he was home… and while the tent he still slept in was comfortable and all the people caring for him were very nice, they couldn’t just replace that.

Around noon on the 12th day, the boy heard a commotion down the road, a few people were talking loudly, some cheered and some laughed. He assumed it was something good, and that he didn’t need to go hide anywhere, so instead he left the tent and decided to build a tiny sandcastle. Maybe Foolish would bring Junior or Finley again and he could show it off to them? He was almost done with the build when he heard someone approaching.

“Yogurt!” Fundy called out to him, and the boy stopped in the middle of fixing up a tower of his sandcastle. “I’m back!”

“Yeah! Look, it’s your dad!” Foolish called too, presumably just behind the man.

Did Yogurt feel happy, relieved? Of course he did, his dad was finally back, he was here and he wouldn’t leave again anytime soon… But at the same time, he felt strangely disappointed. Sad, even. The man said he’d be gone for a few days at most, and it’s been so so long since then, yet he was just running up to him as if nothing happened. As if he kept his word, his promise. That’s probably why Yogurt didn’t look in the direction of his voice, and instead went back to his build. It wasn’t unreasonable to be upset, was it? Soon, Fundy crouched down by his side and looked over the castle he was making while Foolish stopped on the boy’s other side.

“What are you making, buddy? Is this a sandcastle? It looks great!” his dad praised, and Yogurt did his best to stop his tail from wagging. With a pout, he continued making the castle. He’d ignore his dad until he apologized, that was the best way, wasn’t it?

“Did you make this all by yourself?” Foolish asked, also admiring his work. And Yogurt decided that since the man was the one to look after him, he could get an answer.

“Yeah!” he nodded, his pout getting replaced with a grin for a second.

“...Yogurt?” Fundy asked. “Hey, Yogurt, are you- Hey? Buddy? Can you look at me for a moment?” he tried to get his attention, and for a moment, the boy considered answering, but then Foolish snickered.

“Looks like I’m the dad now?” the man suggested. Yogurt laughed quietly at that, and his actual dad let out a dramatic gasp.

“What?! Yogurt, is that true?” he asked. Figuring that the man was playing along, the boy nodded before pointing at Foolish.

“Dad,” he announced, and Fundy gasped again, quickly getting to his feet.

“No, that’s-! I-” he stuttered out before seemingly collecting himself. “Fight me! Duel me! Foolish, duel me for custody!” he demanded, not angrily… just demanded.

“Sure,” the other man nodded. “Sure, we can do that,” he agreed, stifling a laugh. “When do you want to fight?” he asked.

“Now! Right now!” Fundy decided. Yogurt wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed what a great actor his dad was. “I don’t need to rest, let’s go now!”

“Are you…? Okay, sure. Come on, we can do that,” Foolish agreed, and with just a few steps, Fundy was in front of him. “Wait, here?”

“Hm…” the man hesitated. “No, let’s go… under the Eiffel tower! Let’s settle it there!”

And with that, they were off. Yogurt looked after them as they walked before returning to building his castle. Sure, he’d love to give his dad at least one hug before he’d go ‘duel’ with Foolish, but if he survived 12 days without that, 5 more minutes wouldn’t hurt. Because how long could a playful duel last? He hoped it’d take them just long enough for him to finish his build and look through the chests Fundy set up by the tent. They were mostly filled with materials to build their new house, but a few days earlier Yogurt spotted a nice flower growing between the desert and the sea and it was now somewhere with the items. It was meant to be a gift for when his dad would return, and it waited for the day for quite a while now, but the boy still wanted to give it to the man.

***

Fundy’s mind felt hazy, that was the best way to describe it. He was exhausted, he allowed himself to close his eyes just twice during his journey and had a nightmare both of those times. And as if that wasn’t enough to go through, he was now supposed to fight for his son. A sword in one hand and a shield in the other, he had to focus to keep his balance and come up with any kind of strategy, so he didn’t bother questioning the situation. Didn’t bother wondering why would Foolish try to do this, or how the strong bond he had with Yogurt could fall apart so easily. He just had to focus and win the duel, then he could rest.

His son was on the line.

The first time Foolish took a step toward him, his fight or flight instinct kicked in and the next thing he knew he was running. He stopped, no, he couldn’t do that. He returned to his spot and took a couple of breaths to calm down. His opponent laughed and asked if he still wanted to do the duel, as if Fundy had a choice. As if he could just step back and decide the fight wasn’t worth it. His grip on his sword tightened as he shot back a short confirmation. They agreed to fight until one of them surrenders, but he promised himself right there that he’d never do that. No, he’d win or he’d die fighting.

How was Foolish so calm about this? As if this was some stupid joke, and not…

***

Yogurt was already back in his tent, his castle long finished, when heavy footsteps in the sand appeared. He wasn’t all that surprised, his dad did seem tired while he left for the ‘duel’, he was probably barely awake now. He didn’t look at him yet, he was too busy putting the flower he prepared for him in one of the corners without making it too obvious. Before he could make sure it was hidden well enough, though, the man already spoke up.

“...Hey, Yogurt, I… I won the duel, I-” Fundy announced, and he didn’t sound just tired, but exhausted. His breaths were concerningly heavy, and he spoke slowly. “...Will you look at me now?”

The voice in which he said that immediately made Yogurt spin around. He sounded so sad, so tired, as if that was the only thing in the world that mattered to him anymore. The state in which the boy saw his dad was nowhere near what someone after a play-duel should look like. He was obviously injured, there was a cut running across his chest and some blood stained his clothes. Not a concerning amount, but it was still blood. With how exhausted he was on top of that, it was a miracle he was still standing. A miracle that didn’t last long, because almost as soon as his son finally looked at him, he tumbled to the ground.

“Oh, I- I’m so-” he tried to say while Yogurt quickly got to his feet and approached him. What happened? He’s never seen his dad so hurt before, what happened? “I thought I’d- I’d lose and you-” he tried to explain.

The boy finally put what happened together. He realized that his dad took the duel so much more seriously than he expected, that the man must’ve fought as if everything depended on it. And now that he won, and that his son finally looked at him again, he was just… barely holding back his tears. Yogurt’s ears flattened against his head as he felt oh-so-terribly guilty, he shouldn’t have ignored his father when he came back. He hesitantly stepped closer to the man and gave him the biggest hug he could. It usually helped, right?

“Dad,” he said quietly, his way of assuring the man that that’s what he saw him as.

“I- I’m so happy,” Fundy claimed, hugging his son back and rocking him gently to the sides. “M-my boy, my beautiful boy!”

And the child didn’t want to ever pull away from the hug. Once he did, to help his dad into the tent so he could rest, he spotted Foolish standing a bit from them, still on the road. He had a few scratches too, and the shield hanging loosely off the side of his hand had concerningly deep cuts. Yogurt quickly looked away from him and instead led Fundy to their ‘temporary home’. He helped him sit down on the blanket they set up before going to get the flower he previously put in the corner. It would cheer his dad up, surely it would.

“Dad?” he said again, getting the man’s attention. Even being called the title seemed to bring a smile to his face, but the boy still held out his gift.

“...Is that for me?” he asked, and Yogurt nodded. He carefully reached for it and looked it over, his smile only growing. “Thank you, it’s… it’s beautiful. Thank you, Yogurt. My boy. My child, my… oh, come here.”

He spread his hands for a hug, and his son didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him again. Flower in his hand and his boy in his arms, Fundy allowed himself to finally relax. The next thing he knew, he was already lying down, his eyes closing on their own and Yogurt’s head resting against him as the boy muttered a goodnight despite the sun still being quite high in the sky. And Fundy shouldn’t sleep, he should do anything in his power to avoid the nightmares, but… just a short nap wouldn’t harm him, right? And he needed some rest after that duel for sure. He’d never understand why Foolish yielded after just a few seconds of fighting and despite not being too hurt, but he didn’t mind. He had his son. That was all that counted.

An hour or so later, Foolish came by, leaving a few healing potions by the tent before quickly backing away. Fundy slept through that of course, he’d probably sleep until the morning, but Yogurt watched the man until he was out of his sight. He wasn’t sure what happened during the duel, but Foolish certainly wasn’t his favorite ‘babysitter’ anymore.

***

Fundy was very reluctant to leave for another journey after that. Sure, someone would have to do it again and Quackity trusted him with that quest. Sure, going there helped with keeping him awake. Sure, his wounds healed nicely, especially with all the potions he found by the tent. Sure, he talked things through with Foolish and set everything straight. But still, what if… what if he had to go through all that again? What if he misunderstood something when he was back and exhausted, and it’d lead to another pointless conflict?

Yogurt was worried about his dad leaving too. He knew he’d never hold being gone for too long against him again, but he still didn’t want to be lonely. And while he too learned what happened during the duel, how Foolish surrendered the moment he realized how serious Fundy was, he still wasn’t sure if he wanted the man to be the one looking after him again. And who else could do that?

Eventually, Fundy had to start leaving again. He took that job upon himself and he couldn’t just back away from it. The goodbye he shared with his son was much more emotional now that they both knew how long a journey could take, he was convinced that the boy wouldn’t ever let go of him. When he finally left, he kept his hand in his pocket for the first few hours, gently holding the flower hidden deep inside of it. He left Yogurt in yet better hands this time, he spoke to basically all the citizens and they all agreed to check on his son every day, so he shouldn’t be as worried. Still, he couldn’t wait to come back.

Each time Fundy left, Yogurt was starting to accept it more. He missed his dad every time of course, but all the people taking care of him were still doing a good job with their new task, and he liked all of them for different reasons.

Purpled would always let him do what he wanted and he had a funny-looking dog Yogurt could play with after shapeshifting into a fox. Quackity would let him run around the casino if he promised to not damage anything, and if they weren’t there, the man would take him to his office and let him play with the shiny stones and items he stored there. Slime would tell him incredible stories about other citizens, his dad, people he barely heard of, and once they’d get bored of that, he could always do some funny tricks with how his body never seemed to be truly solid. Sam, if he ever had time to stop by the country and was put on ‘babysitting duty’, would gladly listen to anything Yogurt wanted to talk about, and they often just walked around Las Nevadas with the boy showing off all the things that seemed to pop up overnight.

And whenever Foolish ended up looking after him, he would often end up… inconvenienced. Sure, Fundy might’ve forgiven him for the duel thing, but it didn’t stop Yogurt from pulling some pranks. Nothing too harmful, of course, just some stupid things like water buckets spilled from not-too-high-up, or hiding for a bit the moment the man lost sight of him. Sure, it might’ve annoyed the man sometimes, but he still ended up laughing along after the initial shock. And it did give Yogurt a good opportunity to learn how to set up silly ‘traps’, so what was the harm in that?

No matter who was looking after him, though, whenever he’d as much as hear Fundy’s voice or footsteps, he’d drop everything and run in the man’s direction. Their reunions were always a good, happy moment, they hugged each other tightly and only let go when his dad remembered that he still had items to give to Quackity. Then, they would spend the rest of the day telling each other what happened while they were alone, Fundy talking about the breathtaking views he saw and dangerous situations he just briefly survived, and Yogurt recalling all the fun things he got to do while other people looked after him.

Fundy accepted the fact that he still made mistakes not long after his duel with Foolish. That no matter how long he spent with his son and how hard he tried, there would still be misunderstandings, mix-ups, and other issues. But each time Yogurt ran up to him cheerfully calling him ‘dad’, he was assured that it was okay. That they both learned from them, and that they wouldn’t repeat them. That no matter how many times he’d have to leave, he’d never come back to such a disaster again. He'd return to a happy home instead, and he wouldn't trade that for anything else.

#yogurtdays2021 #yogurt dsmp #c!fundy #c!foolish #yogurt dy #fundy #foolish gamers #my writing #dream smp #I had to look back at foolish's vod before writing it and man #the happiness noises after the duel was over got to me #also i am so proud of coming up with a way for that situation to make sense/take place in this fic even if it only meant angst

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bonesthebeloved · 3 years

Text

Smudged names on unfamiliar fingers- karlnapity

Hello this is me trying to get out of writers block and also loving Karl's time traveling arc and the way it affects him. This is very non Canon since I started this right after kinoko kingdom was formed.

!! This writing is about the characters and the characters only. However if any of the cc express discomfort with anything in here I will gladly take it down!!

Cw for memory loss and crying.

Summary: Karl forgets who his fiancé's are.

He was back again.

Stumbling away from the green and purple swirl behind him like a drunk man, finding his bearings slowly but never fully as he climbed up the ladder. Grasping onto the thin bars of it so tightly he wondered if he'd be able to snap them.

He exited the library on autopilot after having placed a new book in the empty slot. Walking out and into the open air before he suddenly stopped.

He'd forgotten how to get home.

He'd forgotten where home was.

He'd forgotten if he even had one.

He looked at his arms and hands. Vaguely knowing about his own habit of writing things on them.

The only thing he could find were two names. Smudged slightly and half covered in the blood of a body that had been dead for years and years yet to him the grief was only two days old.

'Quackity Sapnap.'

They were important to him. He knew that from the way his heart fluttered a bit when reading over the names again.

But... Why?

Quackity finally found Karl when the sun had already started to set. His wings had started to flutter anxiously. Puffing out and laying flat against his back again more and more as time went on and his second fiance wasn't found.

They'd made plans for dinner tonight. Not having been able to spend much quality time together having taken a toll on all of them so they decided on this as a solution. Karl had even proudly shown them how he'd written their names down on the back of his hand so he would remember and they'd all laughed about it as if it was an inside joke. Quackity had tried his hardest not to let the pain of it all seep into that laugh.

Had just awwed and had tried to push down the pang of hurt as he realized that it had gotten bad enough for Karl to have to do such things.

But there his fiancé was. Standing on a broad ledge about midway down the crater of what used to be l'manburg. Looking around with a slightly confused, yet blank expression. How had he even wandered this far away from Kinoko kingdom?

Quackity spread his wings, almost comically small compared to his body size yet somehow still functional through bounds of hybrid magic and a high metabolism, to step off the edge and gently glide towards Karl. Landing on the same ledge and approaching him from the side.

"Karlos?"

The man turned around after a second or so. Looking at him with those wide eyes and cocking his head to the side. There wasn't any recognition in his eyes. None of the usual glee that filled them when met with one of his fiancé's.

Quackity felt a rock settle in his stomach but tried to push it down. Maybe Karl was just tired. Maybe it would pass like the soreness he seemed to feel every time he returned from wherever he was off to on these occasions.

He'd never told them. They never pried. Knowing that if it was important that he'd tell them.

But now, standing infront of his future husband, calling him by their favourite petname and finding him absolutely unresponsive... well it might have been important after all

"...hey" Karl said. And it was warm but in the way he would greet a stranger and Quackity felt a crack in his heart.

"Hey honeycomb. Do you...do you want to go home?"

Karl looked at him for a long moment before slowly lifting his arm and pulling up his sleeve to uncover the back of his hand.

'Quackity Sapnap' it read, and beforementioned man felt a spark of hope grow in his stomach. Their names must help surely right?

"You're... Quackity...? Wait no- Sapna-Quackity. I-I'm so sorry this is rude but...who are you exactly?"

And there goes that spark.

Quackity felt like screaming, Flying off and hiding in the mountains or maybe plummeting himself into a monster pit and punching his fists raw. His fiancé had forgotten who he was. Who Sapnap was, who any of his friends were it seemed.

But being mad wouldn't solve anything. Being mad might upset Karl and he'd hate to give a bad first impression, how bizarre the idea of having to make a first impression at all was, put aside.

So he took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before facing Karl again, a smile on his face. He could do this.

"You got it right the first time honeycomb." He said, forced lightness evident in his voice as he swung his arm around Karl's waist, the other leaning into him like he always did even if this was so very different.

“Let’s get you home hm? Sap is probably burning down the kitchen with how worried he is. We’ve been looking all day yaknow?”

Karl nodded, expression still beyond confused at the whole situation.

“Sap is...?” “Sapnap. Your fiance. One of the two actually.” He said, a sad smile plastered on his face as he grabs Karl’s hand, showing off the two matching rings they wore. Internally he did a little dance when the hand wasn’t pulled away and the other held a pleasantly surprised look on his face.

“Huh.”

Sapnap had brown hair and wore a bandana. Those were the only features he could identify on the other man right before he was swooped into a hug so tight he was scared he’d break something. Though before that could happen gentle hands peeled Sapnap’s arms away from him and he could breathe again as the other two had what seemed like a staring contest. Sapnap deeply offended and the other guy...Quackity? Quackity seeming too tired for all of this right about now.

When Sapnap slowly tried to wrap his arms around Karl again Quackity let out a sigh and finally spoke.

“He doesn’t remember Sap.”

That stopped the other in his movement. He stood frozen in place, staring at Quackity with wide eyes for a long moment when finally...

“What’d he forget this time?”

“Us.”

“I’m sorry-” Karl went to say, but Sapnap had already backed himself into the very corner of the kitchen of the unfamiliar house that apparently belonged to them.

Karl didn’t even know which cupboard held the cups.

“You-”

“I don't know how he-”

“I’m sorry but uhm- what year is this?”

The two others stared at him- they seemed to be doing that a lot- and slowly Quackity started to give him a nervous smile, then a nervous chuckle, trying to laugh away the sheer hurt of it all.

“Don’t tell me you’re also forgetting the date now Karlos.”

“No, no it’s not that it’s just... I traveled a lot recently so it’s hard to keep track of what time I’m in.”

“You’ve... how do you travel Karl?” Sapnap came closer now, tears in his eyes and voice shaky. Quackity wasn’t much better.

Karl decided then and there that, if these people were truly his fiancés, that he’d probably tell them about his travels. Probably already had! He just couldn’t remember. Not that that was an uncommon thing...

“I-... by portal? The last one was 1850 I think. Yeah! see-?” he pointed at the date that had been messily scribbled on his wrist. “-The ones before I’m not sure of we’d have to check the books, I wrote it down there I think.”

He looked up from his little ramble to come face to face with two very shocked faces, one crying red hot tears and the other seeming close to crying the usual ones.

“You’re a time traveler Karl?”

Ah. So he hadn’t told them before this... Well, past him couldn’t really blame him for not remembering that now could he?

“Yes? It’s not... not voluntary i think. One of the books I read said it wasn’t voluntary at least...” he trailed of when he saw the looks of heartbreak on the two semi-strangers their faces.

“Someone is forcing you to timetravel?” Quackity asked in a small voice, barely contained rage simmering just under the surface of the words.

“I’m not sure who or what I just-can I maybe sit down?”

He was tired. He really was. This was all very confusing and the ring around his finger looked like it belonged there yet he’d never seen the people that it matched with before and his life was fading away from him and he just. wanted. a. nap.

“I-Yeahyeah you sit down honeycomb me and Sap will just- yeah go sit down.”

Truth be told Karl would really rather just take a nap. The inbetween had been odd. The travel had been painful and he’d much prefer it if his travels would stop ending in him having to once again experience what dying felt like without actually doing so.

But he sat down. The two people he was supposed to care about most in life standing in the kitchen and quietly talking to eachother. He felt weirdly...empty. He looked at his hands and felt like they were not his. like the smudged out names and dates and the dirt under his fingers that looks too much like the dried up blood that had caked under them after he'd-yeah. It all felt like it belonged to someone else.

He didn't even know where the cups were in this house and here he was. Two fiancé's and a headache richer and not remembering how he'd gotten either of them. Though he atleast had a hunch for the headache.

He looked around the mushroom themed home. Glancing over at where Quackity seemed to be holding Sapnap tight as his shoulder shook heavily, before he quickly turned his head away from them.

He'd caused that. He'd caused it and it felt wrong. He wasn't supposed to hurt these people. Sapnap had gone through enough.

If only he knew what the 'enough' was in that thought.

He was really lost wasn't he?

His eyes had begun to droop when the two other men walked up to him again. Sapnap with a slightly redder face and red rims under his eyes. Quackity with a set expression and the same red rimmed eyes.

"How about we get some sleep hm, Karlos? After that we can go to where you keep your books and read through them. Cog your memory a bit hm? How's that sound?"

Karl was nodding as soon as a bed was mentioned. Feeling the aches of the day (it had been 3 days. Yet in this time it seemed to have only been half a day or so.) settle into his bones and drag him down. Making or very hard to get up at all from the overly comfortable couch that he knew felt familiar but that he didn't remember ever sitting on.

Sapnap ended up carrying him to the bed. And he leaned into the man and felt himself laying his head against his chest to hear the steady heartbeat there. A vague memory that didn't feel like his reminding him that they'd done this before. That this happened regularly. And he pretended that his eyes weren't a little bit wet when he realised how he'd lost some of the best moments in his life.

And maybe he cried a little when he was laid in the bed ever so gently and ever so lovingly before a thick blanket was laid over him.

And maybe he cried a little more late at night, held by two people that felt like home but that he'd never met before and loved but had never spoken too.

And maybe he felt their arms tighten around him when he shook. And maybe he felt Quackity nestle his head further in the crook of his neck like he'd done so many unknown times before.

And maybe they would be alright. Maybe they'd go down to where his books were and read through them, memories flowing back to him with every page turn.

Maybe they would be alright for now.

But Quackity and sapnap held their hands intertwined ontop of Karl's chest. Knowing that, once Karl disappeared and reappeared again, more would be lost. And they'd have to start all over again.

This is very ooc probably but I am tired and also ✨they✨

#dream smp #dsmp karl #Dsmp sapnap #dsmp quackity #quackity #Karl jacobs #Sapnap #Karlnapity #Dsmp fanfic #Writing #My writing #Timetraveler karl #long post #fanfiction #fanfic #mcyt

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commaclear · 2 years

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I really want to see a moment where Quackity doesn’t think before he speaks about Wilbur’s self destructive tendencies. A selfish burst of anger that fucks them both up.

One comment I think every self destructive person, whether it be self harm, drug use, recklessness, etc., has heard is the whole “why do you do this? It’s selfish. You are hurting the people around you and yourself and for fucking what? A little bit of attention?” talk that people seem to never get runs through the other’s head anyways.

Wilbur thinks he’s unlovable and in a way, all the self harm and carelessness is his way of treating himself just like everyone wishes they could treat him. He probably believes that if it wasn’t for his ability to make a good joke here and there and be good at his job, that everyone would do themselves a favor and leave him because that’s what all the cherished people in his life have done. As soon as the cycle takes five and let’s him have a good day, he forces the cycle back. There’s something so mind numbing but also amazing about the bland cycle of hating yourself and your life that he wants to return because if things get better then it’s just gonna hurt worse when the cycle returns. He’s so infatuated with the idea that he is unlovable that any attempt to not be seems futile as hell.

Anyways, I’m rambling. I have a feeling some part of Quackity envies Wilbur no matter how out of pocket that sounds. We all want what we don’t have, and Wilbur has a family no matter how shitty it is. Wilbur grew up with presumably loving parents and siblings and even talks to his brother to this day. The second he overhears Wilbur saying his unlovable after having a shit day (last chapter) this man is going to go batshit.

What does he mean he’s fucking unlovable? Does he know how many people fucking love him? He had a loving mother and father who didn’t willingly dump him into the system. He has a brother who to his knowledge must love him enough to shank him in the face. He has coworkers who were willing to stand up for him even though they hardly knew Quackity. He had Quackity because god forbid Wilbur stay the fuck out of his already taken heart. Does he think Q wants to actually care or love him? Of course not. Quackity should be in love with his husbands, the family and friendsthat finally chose him, but god for-fucking-bid that Wilbur let him finally have the two people that actually wanted him.

As soon as Wilbur hears that shit hits the fan and splatters the god damn walls. Those walls are pure shit now. No wall after that statement. Because the filter was gone and they both never 100% understood how the breakup affected them or the things that happened while they were apart because who needs good communication when you can be sad and mother fucking horny.

Wilbur probably says he needs a moment, but after trying to talk himself out of self harming again, he figures Quackity thinks he’s selfish already so why not do it anyways. He probably fucks himself up more than he ever has before this time. Because this is different from a shitty therapist or ex telling him he’s selfish. This is Quackity, the last untainted soul, the man who was supposed to be his last shred of happiness. Hell, who knows. Maybe this blow will land him next to Quackity in the hospital because he ended up needing stitches and was maybe a little intoxicated only worsening the damage.

Quackity proceeds to blame himself for it all because he should’ve held it back. Just like saying he never loved Wilbur, but at least this time he meant what he said. It was a shit fest that had been building ever since that first kiss. Wilbur complained a lot, why couldn’t he just hold it in like Quackity’d been doing for his entire life? Unlike Wilbur he entered that foster system with not a shred of self worth and if hiding his feelings meant he was a good kid, then so be it. No mommy and daddy ever told him how to cope or talk to others. It’d been him and just him since the beginning, he didn’t need anyone to validate him. But he broke that rule the moment he fell in love the first time years ago.

God, I love essays in my inbox /gen

This is upsetting in all the right ways, and you hit on so many ouch points for both of them *quickly takes a few notes*

For this, I award you the biggest piece of mica I've ever found while wandering, it's very shiny

#anons my beloved #bone to pick

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ruby-whistler · 3 years

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Srry but i noticed in one of ur dream posts u Referred to tommy's cat as hope. I must correct u, that cat was born pussbou and died pussboi. /lh Also tommy killing that cat was nothing compared to dream killing mushroom henry in exile btw just wanna say Also for ur posts about dreams trauma or wilbur manipulating him can u provide links to vods or other proof? Srry if i seem rude i mean that in a "genuinely curious way"

Aaa sorry if my ask came off as rude im just genuinely curious :(((

hi! dw, you don't seem rude at all, and i'm extremely happy someone with a different perspective has found my blog! i really appreciate that sort of attitude and am happy to answer :]

/dsmp /rp

the cat was called pussboy by tommy, but dream only called it "the cat" and then said that "it was hope", which is why it sort of became a symbol (his hope is dead, basically) - that's why i kind of made its name capitalized, because it was more of a metaphor than anything.

most c!dream fans call the cat hope because it's just really nice and really symbolic, and also really sad when you think about it. that's why the name was used in the essay, just to clear up the confusion!

tommy killing that cat was nothing compared to dream killing mushroom henry in exile

i don't really think so? mooshroom henry was entertainment more than anything, and even if it was bad, when watching the stream i don't remember seeing him mourn that much - on the other hand, dream was very quickly and very obviously attached to the cat, with it being his only companion in months of isolation, along with the hope that even when tommy left it would keep him company.

keep in mind c!dream has been deprived of stimuli and human contact for so long it's officially classified as psychological torture at that point.

i don't mean to compare trauma or even compare deaths - because honestly, what c!dream and c!tommy have gone through individually is incomparable and i think neither should be diminished in favor of the other since they're both terrible situations.

that's why i disagree that it "was nothing compared to" - it had an obvious effect on c!dream, and was still c!tommy killing an animal specifically to hurt him, no matter what reasons he had.

when i'm talking about effects people's actions have had on c!dream, i'm not talking about those people. i'm talking about him. :) /lh

as for the trauma, a lot of people agree that a lot of the things he says or does are trauma responses, and hence it's very possible that he's had trauma before he went into prison!

this includes being repeatedly called a tyrant via propaganda by about half of your friends who decided to betray you, trying to keep peace and being pushed deeper into villainy instead, repeatedly being put in between a rock and a hard place in order to make sure the people you care about don't start killing each other, then being betrayed by your closest friends after merely trying to keep peace (sapnap & george) and just in general having no control over your life or image and grasping at straws to gain it back.

i know a lot of people with trauma who heavily relate to certain trauma responses, which aren't always just shaky breaths and flashbacks, but trauma often also manifests itself in extremely ugly and destructive ways, both inwardly and outwardly.

trying to control the people around you is also very often a response to going through trauma, as well as emotional repression which is... rather evident on c!dream during season two. it only seems to get worse with repeated abandonment.

in the end, during the vault scene, the way he acts really just isn't at all the way a healthy person would act, and a lot of his really bad mindsets come from the way he was taught by the world around him.

the character is very reserved however, and since we don't have his pov we can't really say for certain - a lot of people claim it in good faith because they have a lot of evidence for it, and i think they're certainly valid in that.

that is just before the prison, however. from what happened during the prison arc? there is no denying he's traumatized at this point.

he's been emotionally and physically abused by c!sam since the very beginning of being imprisoned, and being in solitary confinement for over two weeks is generally considered psychological (and maybe also physical?) torture. that alone shows up in a lot of symptoms of his mental deterioration while in pandora's during people's visits, and quackity's "sessions" just absolutely drove the point home.

what he's gone through during this arc is absolutely incomparable to anything others charactes have faced before, and it's just plain suffering being endured by someone who is, despite everything, still a human being.

as for the wilbur manipulation thing!! it's talking about the whole vassal scene (though even beforehand a lot of their interactions are pretty iffy), and here's a post about that :]

I also have a small question about the analysis u last reblogged cus it says "why dream needed lmanburg gone rightfully" and like. The house analogy is poor because for one cus the land is infinite. And 2 cus punz's yard was literally larger then lmanburg. And also stuff about dream being a mediator? Can u provide examples?

i wouldn't say it was poor. dream's said a lot of times that he didn't care in the slightest about the land - a lot of his problems with l'manberg arose with the fact that wilbur basically built it on lies and tried to disallow half of the server to come there. c!dream was mad about the division and the fact that wilbur wanted "freedom" to have authority in his lands - over others, as can be seen in this post also.

the table analogy was fitting not because dream was some overlord, but because these were literally friends he invited to hang out and live in a place he wanted to call home. claiming a part of it for yourself and saying people of a certain nationality can't come in is directly opposing those goals.

in the early days of the smp, dream's always been a mediator between his friends - sapnap and george, who would often get into fights and go around killing each other! he would always do his best to stop the conflict, which continued after tommy joined when he took him to court and then later tried to mediate conflicts he was a part of, which resulted in tommy killing him unprovoked, stealing his gear, and starting the disc wars when dream was trying to get his stuff back. later, during pogtopia, he is also most concerned with peace over everything, and this seems to continue indefinitely after.

Today i was thinking about how messed up the final control room was. Like. Dream arranged the betrayal and punz and sapnap killed tommy and tubbo who like. Were literal children and their pals (because the author, wilbur soot, is dead/j but srsly if u take the streamers words tommy said he was 9 during the revolution sooo)

Sorry im gonna ramble about how dumb canon ages are for a second cus like. Streamers can say the characters are one way or another (wilbur saying he is mentally 30-something, etc.) But in the end the characters act like they(or at least their streaming personas) do.

i... honestly don't find it that bad? they were in a war, and the final control room was basically just supposed to end it quicker. the l'manbergians made it clear they were going to fight to the death, so they really left c!dream no other choice. and it's not like he didn't give them chances to give up.

also yeah the 9 year old thing was retconned, because in that case c!dream would've been 14 and i don't think that's true.

c!tommy and c!dream were both young and once again, in a war. the final control room was an attempt to assure victory, which both sides would've taken if possible, but only c!dream saw he had the option.

i do agree the whole child soldier thing was bad but... complain about that to c!wilbur, methinks. he talked naive kids into fighting for his personal power. however, the age argument isn't really valid either way. they had enough agency to sign up for it, and whether or not c!wilbur pushing the intense nationalism onto them had something to do with that is another debate entirely.

Bacl to final control room cus like??? Also fun fact punz took 2 of wilbur's canon lives. And like that probably is what started wilbur's paranoia which later lead to his spiral and i. Many thoughts full of lmanburg today.

i'm pretty sure cc!wilbur said what lead to c!wilbur's spiral was a "dark, twister view of possessions" and "disregard for his fellow citizen whom he claimed to love so much", but i really wouldn't say it was the control room; if anything the sudden loss of power after the elections seems to me like the trigger for his spiral.

I watched the exile arc live and. I feel dirty almost for feeling little to no sympathy for c!dream (srry ive been forgetting to add that aa) because of his actions toward c!tommy and like. The whole probation was so humiliating and unfair and c!dream was planning to frame him for the crimes he and puffy did under the the guise of "pranks" and c!quackity was planning to seize the vice president role.

i mean... to be fair, if you didn't watch the prison arc much yet or only watch tommy's perspective i understand not feeling that sympathetic - however, i encourage you to maybe watch a few prison visits, since they could help you see the whole picture better!

i also watched it live, and i also thought it was terrible, but i share very much the same sentiment for the prison arc because. absolutely no one should have to go through either of those things, you know?

i don't think probation was that humiliating? he was just. being asked to not start conflict with the other factions for two weeks. of course, what happened as a result is in no way justified, but i don't think probation itself would've been bad at all. either way yeah the framing and c!quackity's behaviour was. very yikes, i agree.

Also c!tommy antis are dumb because they say "he deserved exile angry emoji" i dont see u saying that about ranboo. Just say you hate cc!tommy and go. Also people say c!tommy was just as toxic to c!dream and i??? No. One is the victim and one is the abuser and like. :/// man. This part is rambly srry

i wouldn't say they hate cc!tommy? cc!tommy has a persona who people think is annoying at first ( but then they subscribe because he is super entertaining big man! ) but a lot of c!tommy's actions are straight up toxic to certain characters, such as c!funndy and c!jack. he has a very dismissive attitude towards others and their trauma and it does affect the people around them very negatively.

examples; his repeated bullying and behavior towards fundy:

Tommy: “Fundy, I’m just here to kinda let you know that I – if you weren’t Wilbur’s son, you would be out of L’manburg, alright? Just remember – you need to keep that relationship with your father. I saw how asshole-y and bratty you were acting in the courtroom the other night. You need to pull your shit together young man.”

......

Fundy: “I’m wearing glasses…are you making fun of my eyesight?!”

Tommy: “Yes.”

Sapnap: “Your father would be very disappointed.”

Fundy: “Wh – disappointed for wearing glasses?!”

Tommy: “You got glasses, like what are you wearing…”

Fundy: “What do you mean?”

Tommy: “Sapnap, Sapnap, over here. Fundy, Fundy, Fundy, I’m really sorry to say this – I’m just here to publicly denounce you.”

Fundy: “…What?”

( credit for transcript: @/findingjoynweirdstuff )

he's also responsible for a big chunk of c!jack's trauma, both with actions and words, and that's why i think certain people might dislike the character, and i don't think that's wrong of them. anyone can dislike any character they want if they don't attack people for liking them, in my opinion.

also c!tommy was most definitely toxic against c!dream in the cell. it's of course understandable but that doesn't change the fact he was constantly hitting and insulting him (without dream doing anything back for a long while until he snapped) which is toxic behaviour.

i wouldn't say he was "just as" though, so i agree with you on that. they're different and they behave differently.

i made a dream blob keychain today. Is it possible to send images if u wanna see? Idk cus i havent used tumblr before. I think that's all for now. Thx for letting me talk :D peepoShy -curious anon (but fr a connoreatspants c!dream redemption arc would be cool)

yooo that's cool! i don't really,,, know if it's possible to send images? try it out and if it isn't i'll try find a way to turn it on.

also, no problem! just please remember this is a c!dream sympathetic blog, and me as well as my followers are uhh,, oftentimes emotionally attached / personally relate to the character, so if you could avoid sending hate on the character (not that you have or that i expect you to, just a friendly reminder) in the asks that would be great! we already see a lot of it unwillingly so, i'd rather not see more, but as long as the discussion is civil i'm absolutely ok with you asking more and with me answering more questions if you'd want to! :)

if anyone else would like to reblog this and add some things i might've missed with my answers, feel free to, just go easy on her (she uses she/her pronouns!) and keep it factual.

i hope u had a good or at least ok time at school today :D

thanks! i gtg now because exam tomorrow but i'm going to try write the redemption essay tomorrow as well because ohhh boy i have a lot of ideas about what all i could write around the concept.

also sorry this was long, i can't keep my tongue on the leash :[

#c!tommy critical #c!wilbur critical #my asks #curious anon #long post #history #tw torture #tw manipulation

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karlnapity · 4 years

Text

everyone that’s so close to me.

tws: panic attack, minor self-injury (hitting)

he isn’t sure where he is, at first. his vision is blurry, black spots dancing at the edges of his view. as he comes to, he’s able to tell he’s sitting cross-legged on a wool floor. his hands curl in the soft cloth of the hoodie he’s wearing, and he focuses on messing with it with shaking hands.

he’s sitting in what seems to be a small library, a dark room covered with books on every spare surface, piled on tables and open in stands. he grabs the nearest one, opens it. his vision makes it hard to focus on the words, and his brain is so fuzzy he can barely understand what he’s reading, but after a few moments he can make out a few words:

don’t forget who you are.

anger flares deep in his chest. great, super fucking useful. before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s tearing the page in half, then in more and more pieces until there’s tiny scraps strewn across his lap.

he sits back as his vision swims, leaning against one of the bookcases. he wonders if he wrote the note himself, wonders what he’s doing here, where here even is.

he takes another book off a pile. the same thing, the same note. he falls into a sort of rhythm: read, rip, repeat. he leaves the few that look important. his brain isn’t able to work out more than “mizu,” but he knows enough to leave it be. he finds scribbling in a few books and destroys those too.

he’s not sure how long he continues tearing, frustration the only thing on his addled brain, but soon enough he’s sitting in a pile of fucked up confetti.

he hears voices somewhere up above, but he can’t quite get himself to focus, and he’s far too tired to even consider standing. he leans back again, closes his eyes, lets his thoughts drift.

the voices grow closer until he can’t ignore them anymore.

“what the fuck is this?” one of them asks. they sound like they’re underwater.

“some kinda secret room?” the other offers. there’s the creak of a door, then the first one swears, loudly. his head hurts.

“karl?”

he ignores them, keeps his eyes closed. they must be talking to someone else. the other one repeats the name.

“karl!” someone shakes his shoulder, and he jumps back. he blinks his eyes open, and pulls back.

there’s two people in front of him. the one who touched his shoulder is dressed in a beanie and some sort of tracksuit, his hand still outstretched. the other stands behind him, black hair tied back with a headband. he’s the one who speaks.

“are you ok, babe?”

his head swims. what’s happening? what is happening?

he shakes his head, stares at the mess around him, stares at the two strangers. he pulls his hands close to himself, fiddles in the hoodie in a nervous gesture. shakes his head again.

the one in the beanie crouches next to him, reaches out a hand, and he takes it, hesitantly. the other is quick to sit on his other side, rest a hand on his leg.

“karl, baby, what’s wrong?”

he opens and closes his mouth a couple times, finding himself unable to talk. he’s not even sure he remembers how.

“don’t want to talk?” headband asks, and he’s so grateful. he nods, hesitantly.

“the fuck is this room?” beanie muses, looking around. his leg bounces, and it’s clear he wants to stand and explore, but he’s still holding his hand.

headband takes that as his cue and stands, looking around. he starts to read the names of the books around the room. his voice lulls him into a sort of relaxation as he makes comments and cracks half-assed jokes about what he’s reading. beanie squeezes his hand and leans into his side, and he doesn’t pull away this time.

headband and beanie say a few more things, but he’s tired, confused, and he can’t quite make sense of what they’re saying. beanie pulls away from him and he almost falls over, but soon enough they each have a hand and are pulling him to his feet. he stumbles a bit, and he’s so, so tired he almost collapses against headband’s side, but they catch him and help him steady himself.

they lead him upstairs, painstakingly but so patient. he curls in bed as soon as they lay him down. he can hear them whispering outside the room but he doesn’t care, passing out almost immediately. he’s too tired to do anything else, bits of ripped up paper still clinging to his hoodie.

he wakes slowly, painfully. his head still pounds, and as he sits up his vision is still blurry. he needs to go. he needs to go somewhere.

he stumbles out of bed, almost cracking his head on the wall as he wavers on his feet. he braces himself as he makes his way down the hallway. his feet know the layout of the house even if his brain doesn’t, and soon enough he finds himself in the kitchen.

headband is standing there, and he turns as he hears karl. when he catches sight of him, his face both brightens and falls in some sort of paradox, but he lets him help him to the sofa all the same.

“how are you feeling?” his face is so gentle, and he reaches out a hand to cup his face.

he feels bad pushing him away but he still doesn’t know what’s happening.

and he can’t help it. that’s it. he’s tired, and he’s confused, and he doesn’t know these people, and he doesn’t know why they’re touching him and he doesn’t know why he trusts them and he doesn’t know where he is and he doesn’t know when he is, and he doesn’t know why that’s even a question.

and he starts to cry.

it starts out quiet, just small hiccups as the other, the stranger, pulls him into a hug, but soon enough it devolves into full-on sobs and wails. the other man must come in because he hears talking and soon enough there’s another set of arms around him.

he wants to pull away, he doesn’t know these people, he doesn’t know what’s going on, his brain isn’t fucking working, he can’t do this, he can’t-

he pulls a hand free from their hugs and knocks the palm of his hand against his temple, hard.

the others exclaim, cup his hands in theirs, and he lets out a few noises of frustration, and he finds his voice.

“stop!” he shouts, and he’s not even sure what or who he’s saying it to, but he can’t stop, he can’t stop repeating it, and he’s just shouting.

the others let him, and he’s pretty sure beanie even lets out a celebratory whoop, encouraging him, ironic as it might be.

eventually he quiets, and they’re still holding him, and he’s grateful. he falls back into their embrace. headband lets him go, ruffles his hair. his smile is sad as he pretends everything is normal, as he says, “i’m gonna go make breakfast now.”

beanie brushes his hair out of his face, straightens his hoodie, and looks him in the eye. there’s no smile on his face as he cups a hand around his head and looks into unfocused eyes and says, “karl, please, baby, i love you. please tell me what’s going on.”

he’s found his voice. it’s rusty from screaming, but it’s his all the same. it cracks as he says, “i don’t fucking know.”

“what’d you mean?”

“i don’t know what’s going on, i don’t know why i’m here, i don’t know who you are or who i am, i don’t remember,” he says, growing hysterical at the last words. he reaches out to grab the other’s arm in seek of support.

beanie huffs in disbelief, leaning back against the sofa. “... fuck. fuck. are you serious?”

he seems to search his face for some sign of a prank, like it’s simply not possible. he rubs his hands over his face, resting it in his hands for a couple seconds. then he takes his hand, hooks their fingers together. “ok. what do you need to know?”

he bites his lip. “everything.”

karl. his name’s karl.

his husbands’ names are sapnap and quackity. he can already feel it slipping from his mind, and as he sits on the sofa he stares at a spot on the floor and repeats it over and over. sapnap, quackity, karl. karl, karl, karl.

the name sounds funny in his mouth, so he mumbles it over, and over, and over. headband-sapnap sits next to him and listens to him mumble to himself and grips his arm like he’s afraid he’ll slip away. maybe he will.

the finer details of the situation are already disappearing from reach, and he struggles to hold onto them. something about l’manburg, manburg, a war or two, something.

he knows they’re important. he knows that he had something to do with it, but he can’t remember. he knows it has something to do with what he was doing before he <i>forgot.</i>

he stumbles to his feet. sapnap makes a startled sort of noise when he pulls free from his hold, but he’s on a mission now. he’s still tripping a bit, but it doesn’t matter.

he climbs back down to where they found him the night before, to the mysterious room hidden under their house. the door was left ajar and the torn-up paper is still there. it’s sort of comforting. he knows something. he knew the paper would be here. he knows how it got there. he knows something.

he crouches, rifles his hands through the small piles while headband- headband- sapnap watches. he catches words here and there. remember. who.

it answers nothing, and tensions start to rise. he can’t remember. he doesn’t know what this is, but he knows it’s important. he stands, pieces still clenched in his fists, moves to the books and the sketches. mizu, masquerade, beach. none of it makes sense.

tears prick his eyes, fists full of paper shaking. he can’t remember. he can’t remember.

someone touches his shoulder, and he flinches. a man with a headband is reaching out to him. he knows who this is.

he does. he hiccups, and the man pulls him into a hug.

“who?” he asks, voice watery. the stranger clutches him closer.

“sapnap. one of your husbands.” he’s crying too.

he fists in his husband’s shirt, holding him close. he wants to say something, but he’s not sure he can.

“i love you, karl, i love you,” sapnap murmurs into his shoulder. “whatever it takes, just tell me what you need.”

he knows this:

his name is karl.

his head hurts.

bits of paper flutter to the ground.

#karl jacobs #sapnap #quackity #dsmp #personal #dream smp #l'manburg #l'manberg #lmanburg #lmanberg #manburg #mcyt #tales from the dream smp #fanfic #fanfiction #time traveler karl

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