#reincarverse

[deadpatrol]

General writing update:

I am making it my goal to finish We've Got A Knack For Fucked Up History before the end of the year.

I'm moving and starting a new job, so it will probably not be in the next month or two. But I really really want it to happen before the end of the year.

Thank you to everyone still following the Reincarverse and sticking with it while its been on this long hiatus. <3

[spook-202]

meme dump meme dump

for Knack ch 5 (part 2 of Standing at a Lighswitch) by @deadpatrol

[undeniablyares]

*chants softly* Sex pollen smut, sex pollen smut, sex pollen smut...

Back at it again with some more of the Accidentally Routes. I finally figured out how I'm going to continue Reborn, guys. It's a goddamn miracle. Also, sorry for the inactivity lately. I've been having a bit of an existential crisis and have just been hardcore struggling with a creative block on all my little hobbies and crafts. Slowly chipping away at it and hoping to have some more updates to things posted within the next few days. As always, thank you for your patience with me. 🫣🙃

[michaels-two-dads]

A lore finale where Tubbo nukes the SMP and everyone is reincarnated in a new world? That sounds familiar 🤨🤨🤨

[skaters-art-blog]

Wow this project is finally done! took me nearly 22 hours to complete these two pieces, but I cant say i regret it! They turned out p good!

This is even more fanart for @deadpatrol's hit reincarnation au, Standing At A Lightswitch! This took me like months and months to finish, way longer than necessary most likely lol. If you are on my blog and haven't read it yet i'm honestly shocked i post about this fic so much lol.

Speedpaint + bonus under the cut!

and a little bonus :)

[skaterfc]

omg saal girlies its time. i get to show you something. give me a minute to make the post

[oh-no-i-watch-mcyt]

saal!tubbo is really Going Through It

[pebbledrat]

I wanted to join the Coalition of People Who Are Insane About Saal!Beeduo And Write Ficlets About It, so here’s this!! a little something set between saal and knack. I did get baited into this, so blame @deadpatrol for this one

.

His freckles weren’t the same anymore. 

The car ride was long, too long maybe, and it was a silly detail to be so focused on. Tubbo was a little squished beneath the weight of Ranboo leaning against him, fast asleep. The weight was comfortable, comforting in the way few things had been since the reset. It was bone deep knowledge, the feeling of here, here, safe. 

Ranboo was here, resting, and hopefully himself. Drista had said it would be okay. Or at least, she said that intervention would mean getting XD involved, which was to say, things would have to be okay. Whatever happened, Tubbo would make it okay; would reframe his expectations and his plans until Ranboo was taken care of and watched and loved. Ranboo was going to be okay because Tubbo wasn’t certain he could bear anything else. 

It was a little thing to get caught on, the freckles, but with Ranboo’s eyes closed and the sunlight cast on his face, Tubbo couldn’t help looking. He looked peaceful in a way he rarely did when awake, worry smoothed away, if only for a few moments. 

He was different now. Both of them were. Tubbo was missing his horns, his hooves, and he was left clumsy and fumbling without any real steadiness in the new world. Likewise, Ranboo had been made anew. His skin was pale and warm. Not the smooth, white and black expanse Tubbo had come to know, but something pinker. Softer. 

Ranboo was human now, like everyone else, and he had no claws to defend himself, no tail to wrap around ankles with a friendly possessiveness. Tubbo barely recognized him. 

And yet… 

But he was Ranboo. Still, somehow, he had that Ranboo crinkle to his eyes when he smiled, and that nervous twist to his hands when he spoke couldn’t be anyone else. The awkward laugh or the ridiculous, stupid wordplay that only came out once he got comfortable. There was no question about it, Tubbo had found him. Again. Tubbo had found him, and he was still Ranboo.

And yet. 

His freckles had changed. Tubbo didn’t know what he’d imagined, if he thought somehow that he’d find Ranboo, his Ranboo, with the same sprinkling of freckles across his nose and the same sharp-toothed grin. Not… this Ranboo, whoever he was. 

Tubbo craned his neck, trying to get a better angle on Ranboo. 

Tommy was still rambling away in the front seat, the timbre of his voice fading into the white noise of the car rolling across the countryside. Ranboo had slept through it all, but the movement must have disturbed him, because he shifted, muttering something indiscernible to himself. 

For a long moment, Tubbo froze, wondering if Ranboo was going to wake again, if he did, which memories he might have. Finally, Ranboo settled and Tubbo released a heavy breath. 

If nothing else, the venture had secured Tubbo a better view. 

Ranboo’s new freckles were fainter, more subtle than before. They were still there, but in all the wrong places. Instead of the distinctive black and white, they’re just sort of… brown. It feels wrong. It feels different and so, so wrong all of the sudden that Tubbo can hardly bear it.

When Tubbo had woken up in the new world, he’d found the night sky had changed. It had felt like choking, for a moment; like forgetting how to breathe. The stars were all wrong, duller somehow, with no familiar constellations to light his path. It had shaken him badly, but he’d set off to find more familiar things.

This Ranboo isn’t Tubbo’s minutes man. He can’t be, shouldn’t be. He isn’t meant to be, and that was rather the point, wasn’t it?

It would’ve been easier, Tubbo decided, if Ranboo had no freckles at all this time around. It would’ve been an adjustment at first, certainly, but maybe then Tubbo wouldn’t be left looking for constellations in skies and faces that didn’t exist anymore.

[wildymoon]

My contribution to the feast for MCYT fans ✨

The Reincarverse is by @deadpatrol by the way :D

[deadpatrol]

Happy valentines day! Have a saal!beeduo snippet from knack ch5:

“Ranboooo…” Tubbo whines plaintively, and when Ranboo’s shoulders hitch around his ears, his eyes stay caught looking down at his own hands. Tubbo huffs and tells him matter-of-fact, “You’re not helping.”

“I’m—?” Ranboo stutters, confused, but sounding more curious than bothered. “Sorry?”

“Talk to me, Ranboo.” Tubbo rolls his shoulders, tension shifting back and forth between them like a weight. “I’m all jumpy. Be distracting.”

“Oh. Oh! Uh, yeah, sure!” Ranboo is quick to agree, always relieved to be helpful. “What do you want to talk about?”

Ranboo’s eyes flick up, just once — just to graze against Tubbo’s hands. Tubbo closes his fingers into a fist, like he could catch Ranboo’s attention in the palm of his hand. But Ranboo’s gaze slips away, like water between his fingers.

Ranboo wrings his hands and watches them like the most interesting thing in the world, his voice pitching with sudden nerves. “There’s— um. We could talk about anything, really!”

From the nervous, anticipatory way Ranboo curls his spine in on himself, from the way Ranboo won’t meet Tubbo’s eyes, from the way Ranboo hasn’t said a real word to him since the night on Technoblade’s couch, Tubbo knows. Tubbo knows what Ranboo desperately wants to talk about — what Ranboo would sooner and rather die of anxiety than talk about.

Husbands.

The devil called you his husband.

“I think we’re being followed.” Tubbo tells Ranboo, because admitting to paranoid delusions seems significantly less vulnerable than the only other thing consuming his thoughts at the moment. “Stalked by a real wrongun.”

“You think so?” Ranboo tips his head, and Tubbo considers him successfully distracted.

“Yeah.” Tubbo grumbles, shoving a french fry into his mouth. “’M going a little bit nuts, I reckon.”

“Well, I mean,” Ranboo says in his low, serious tone, which means he’s about to be far more reasonable and sympathetic than Tubbo’s wallowing would appreciate. “If anyone is getting stalked, I think the guy with the sword is best equipped to handle it. So…”

Tubbo nods, absolutely certain in this confidence. Tubbo takes a bite of his greasy fast food burger, and through his mouthful he states, “Yeah, I’ll slice ‘em up.”

Ranboo laughs, muffled in the way where he finds it funny but he is worried that he shouldn’t. “Tubbo.”

Tubbo grins, and husbands rests behind his teeth, tasting like a lie.

Tubbo takes a bite of his burger, and it tastes like an echo. It tastes like a chair rolling down a hill, wood splintering itself against gravel and dirt. It tastes like envy for the freezing spring breeze sailing across an invisible border, country lines drawn in red on maps, intangible and uncrossable. It tastes like risking a theory on a 50/50 chance, and being dead wrong.

And then there’s a snap.

A moment like clarity.

A moment that rings in Tubbo’s head — echoing what am I doing here?

The silence stretches a tick — then two. The longer Tubbo looks at Ranboo, the less he recognizes him.

Ranboo’s— his nails are blunt and short and pink against the sticky table, and when he smiles he doesn’t bother to hide his teeth, and when his eyes meet Tubbo’s, Tubbo is the one to look away.

Husbands sits locked behind Tubbo’s teeth, leaking bitter across his tongue and pooling into the crevices of his mouth.

Tubbo takes a bite of his burger, but it doesn’t taste like much at all. So Tubbo gingerly sets the burger back down into the basket of wax paper. And Tubbo has to curl his fingers into his palms.

What. Is he doing.

Suddenly, the freezing spring breeze blows across the invisible border of some forgotten nation, and Tubbo realizes with an ache in his jaw that—

He is alone.

What does he think he’s going to gain from this— all this pretending? He’s been convincing himself of a lie, letting himself believe it. Because it hurts less that way.

But that’s all it is. A lie.

This is not Ranboo.

This is not his Tommy, or his Wilbur, or his world.

Tubbo is alone.

“Is the food okay?” Ranboo asks, his hands wringing in little circles of orbit around each other, clutched nervously in front of him. “I didn’t really know what you liked, so I—”

“You don’t know me at all,” The words spill out of Tubbo’s mouth, clumsy and pulled taught along his vocal cords. Then, again, like a correction, Tubbo asks, with a messy edge of desperation and hope, “You don’t know me at all?”

“Uh,” Ranboo fumbles, caught off guard. His hands slip free from their tangled knots and still, uncertain.

A wave of something burning hot and sharp goes through Tubbo, settling into his limbs and lingering there. Tubbo curls his fingers tighter into his palms, nails digging into his skin like a reminder, like reassurance, like certainty.

“You don’t know me at all,” Tubbo says one last time, firmly. It almost sounds like an accusation, but the only thing his tone is directed at is Tubbo’s own delusions.

Tubbo looks at Ranboo — his name isn't even Ranboo — with mismatched brown-blue eyes caught wide and off-kilter. His eyes are wrong. Not wrong, different. Belonging to a different person. A stranger. Fuck. Tubbo’s been sitting across the table from a stranger, hasn’t he?

What is Tubbo doing?

“I’d like to.” With a sudden burst of conviction, Ranboo leans forward across the table, across the gap, dangerously close to an invisible border that cannot be crossed. His brown-blue eyes look like earnestly, but Tubbo doesn’t know them at all. Ranboo hesitates, and longer Tubbo looks at him, second-guessing himself. “To— to know you, I mean. I’d like that. To, um, get to know you.”

“You’re insane,” Tubbo mutters, disbelievingly and just a touch helplessly fond.

Ranboo’s steady conviction breaks into the curve of a small smile, and he laughs like he’s inviting Tubbo in to the joke. “Yeah, probably. Might be! Might be.”

Tubbo shakes his head at Ranboo’s absurdity. He—

He doesn’t know what to do.

He… should probably leave.

Just get up and go.

Tubbo shouldn’t be here.

The realization laps over him like a rising tide in the freezing bay. He really shouldn’t be here, and he knows it.

Tubbo scans the food court, and his eyes linger on the exits.

He… probably needs to go. It would be easy enough to slip away through the crowd, out to the parking lot, let his feet carry him away. It would be for the best, probably, for Tubbo to walk away, out of the lives of these strangers he’s taken as his own. But—

But.

But.

“Tell me something,” Ranboo says quietly, light and hopeful and far too earnest for his own good. Tubbo’s gaze is drawn back to him. Ranboo has his eyes down on his basket of food, a french fry between his fingers dipping into a little puddle of ketchup. Ranboo’s nervous eyes are on the small french fry in his hand, but his attention is all on Tubbo. “Just— anything. And then I’ll tell you something. Or, I can go first, if you want.”

Tubbo—

Well.

He probably needs to leave, to go before he makes things worse. And that’s exactly what he’s been doing, when he pushes through his own stubborn bullshit enough to admit it. He’s disrupting the lives of strangers for his own selfish desires.

But Tubbo can’t leave. Ranboo asked him a question. Ranboo wants him here. And Tubbo will be with Ranboo for as long as Ranboo wants him.

It’s too late, now. Ranboo cares about him, in some strange way. Stupid, reckless, earnest, trusting, Ranboo has gone and gotten invested in this stranger across the table. The damage is already done. So Tubbo forces himself to sit still, and quietly picks up his burger. He takes a bite and chews slowly as he thinks.

“This is a bad idea,” Tubbo mutters, and then stuffs his mouth with greasy burger like that could stop the words from pouring out of him. “Truly awful.”

Ranboo smiles, and it’s lopsided and weak and he doesn’t bother to hide his teeth. “Trust me?”

Tubbo doesn't know how to answer that.

Instead, Tubbo opens his mouth and mutters into the silent bubble here, encased in the noise and bustle of the food court. “I used to work at a burger restaurant, you know.”

Tubbo bites back the hot rush of spikes in his blood that scream he doesn’t know. He wasn’t there. He doesn’t know. He didn’t hold your hand over an invisible border that you couldn’t cross.

The Ranboo that Tubbo loved is dead and gone.

Tubbo’s husband is dead.

The stranger says, “Oh? That’s cool. How’d you like it?” And he smiles like a stolen sunrise.

[spook-202]

@deadpatrol tumblr did a thing

[undeniablyares]

Warning: This author thinks he's hella clever. For reference, Kaen is reincarnated Kyo, while Arashi is reincarnated Akaza.

A peek at Reborn. The three Accidentally route updates are finally written and being edited. Coming soon to an Archive near you. ✨

[deadpatrol]

WILL YOU BE MAD IF I PAINT THE COVER BC ITS BLACK AND I DONT WANT IT TO BE BLACK I WANT IT TO BE COOL

It's yours! You can do whatever you want with it.

I'm really glad you enjoy the fic! I hope you enjoy the physical copy, too.

[deadpatrol]

Fun Fact: y'all remember in "standing at a lightswitch" ch3 how Ranboo's car mysteriously broke down?

Some of you speculated it was sabotage, that Ranboo broke the car that night.

You were correct.

But it wasn't Ranboo.

[deadpatrol]

Knack chapter 4 very, very soon. :)

[deadpatrol]

Wait did XD just slap everyone into this world at their current ages with false memories or did they grow up in reality that they’re now learning in a scam? Does Saal Tubbo’s body have parents?

Excellent question anon! :)

XD essentially created a new server and filled it with NPCs. With the information he had about the dsmp characters' lives, he altered physical things about the characters to fit into the new world building. He made them all human (Tubbo no longer a goat, Ranboo no longer an Enderman, etc.), he altered the ages to fit human norms (Fundy's age is counted in human years rather than fox years, Wilbur is younger because in this world he never went to limbo, etc.), and he also created false memories to help them integrate into their new lives. All of this is done because the human brain is a delicate thing, and the cognitive dissonance of being, say, an Enderman that one day woke up in a human body in a whole different world would be a lot of strain and stress on the brain. XD takes good care of his pets.

So as far as the dsmp characters know, they've always lived in this world. As far as their NPC childhood next door neighbors know, the characters have always lived in this world. Everything seems to line up. Except Tubbo.

Tubbo didn't get brought over by XD. He didn't get the same memory altering treatment that XD gave everyone else. He was brought over separately by Drista, and she was a little less careful about handling her older brother's pet. Drista just kind of dropped Tubbo off in the new world and called it good enough. So, Tubbo doesn't have a backstory. He doesn't have parents, or fake memories with any of the NPCs or characters around him. He doesn't have any kind of integration into the new world. Tubbo's body is essentially the exact same body he had in the dsmp, but with cosmetic surface level changes. His scars are gone, but his body still remembers the feeling of them in his skin.