mcyt/dsmp x gn reader (discontinued)

Revived Reader + Tommy Ain't It 2

how you died basically

idk have some okay angst.

I hate my stupid fucking course

so I just reread the previous chapter and it pains me

-

My L'manberg uniform is covered in a variety of reds and reddish browns. There's barely a clean patch. It's all stained by the blood of Dream, George, Sapnap, Punz, countless others that I have driven myself to dispose of.

My hands are shaking as I pick up my sword. It's not anxiousness, it's... it's...

Bloodlust.

Adrenaline, being more specific. I can feel my blood pumping through my veins. I can feel my heartbeat in my jaw, in my feet, in the palms of my hands. I'm grinning like a maniac.

I'm lifting the sword up, ready to put another wound in the dark-haired arsonist's practically lifeless body in front of me before I hear someone inhale sharply.

I turn, lowering my hands.

It's Tommy.

I stand up from my prior position, on my knees. He's backing away from me, a look of horror on his face. My smile widens.

"Tommy! Tom. It's okay, they're dead, they're dying, you won't ever be in harm's way ever again." I hold out my hands, gripping his arms that are locked to his sides, bending down.

"Thomas. My life purpose as your sibling has always been to protect you. And I've done it. You've been spared. I've saved you. We did it." A couple years are starting to form in his eyes.

I reach up with one hand to cup his cheek, wiping a tear with my thumb. "I've done it. You're finally safe. We're safe. L'manberg's safe. There's nothing to be scared about or sad about, you don't need to cry anymore." I place both of my hands on his shoulders, a beam on my face. I'm sure I look insane right now, covered in blood at a scene where so many bodies lay. I don't look back at the bodies.

He yanks away from me.

"Get away from me!" Fear is still etched in his face.

"Oh." I stand to full height, looking at Tommy.

"I understand now. You're scared of me, aren't you?" My beam only broadens.

"I get it. You're scared of me. I have to do what I've been doing, I suppose." I walk back over to Sapnap's body as he tries to cough, drowning in his own blood.

I pick up the sword.

I turn to Tommy.

"Tommy. You'll be safe now, and I promise that." And with that, I shove the blade in between my ribs, screaming at the sudden sharp pain, falling over.

Oh god it fucking hurt. It hurt so fucking much. Death wasn't supposed to be this painful, was it? It wasn't, you had died twice before.

I wasn't going to respawn. I wasn't going to be able to see Tommy again after my death. Is this what my victims felt? No, I made sure they were on lidocaine before I started getting rid of them.

Their bodies were gone by now. They've probably respawned, and they would definitely spit on my grave. God, I probably fucking deserved this didn't I?

I'm coming off my adrenaline high. Some sense of reason is flooding my brain. I'm going to die while Tommy's sobbing in shock. I fucking hate him crying.

I tried to give my best genuine smile, looking up at Tommy. Tears were streaming down his face rapidly, him looking down at me in shock. He was bent on his knees, scared to touch you.

He suddenly looked up in fear, scooting in front of me to shield my body from something. Someone. There stood a newly revived Dream, a barely visible scar on the back of his hand from where I shoved my sword into his arm.

He pulled out his axe, pointing it at Tommy. "Move." His voice was stern, cold, threatening.

"No!" Tommy's voice trembled. "You have no damn right, grass cutting!" He spits out with difficulty

I tugged on the back of his shirt gently. "Tommy, move. I'll be fine." I laugh before grimacing. He hesitated.

Dream shoved Tommy out of the way before putting away his axe, picking up me. He wasn't particularly gentle with my body, shoving his arm under my knees and holding my back. He started towards the swamp.

--

The rest of the night was filled with screams and yelling and muffled shouting. And the swamp filled with a deep cherry red, the color fanning out like powder when blown.

Floating in the water, the chunks of flesh that you used to be made of wished you had succeeded when you stabbed yourself. 

-

idk don't fucking ask me I'm just trying to update

-pigeon