#dead guys

[beastofthenight]

Scene zombie girlie x emo zombie dude

They're sweet together

[accepttheabyss]

que shoegaze song

[kittydragondraws]

WHAT IS THE OTHERMIND COULD POSESS CORPSES

[phuckindope]

♡.

[ladyhoneydarlinglove]

RIP to all the people upset about what jayce did but i’m different. i’ve never loved him more. that was literally the most homoerotic thing he could possibly have done. like oh you thought viktor leaving him was the divorce era? babes that was just a little lovers spat. welcome to the REAL divorce era.

[gayrudeboys]

yesterday i was ringing up an old man at work and he asked if i wanted to see his pride and joy, pulled out his wallet, and in the place where you’d keep a picture of like your family he had this

[isjasz]

Stellar death

[fishproblem]

being a god is so hard like I fully understand why they've all abandoned us. yesterday i changed the water in my nano tank and the weather there is pretty much always 80°F and sunny but the replacement water was cool and it had been a couple weeks so it replicated a rainfall after a drought and so then my little civilization of ember tetras all thought it was Time To Fuck but my stocking somehow skews aggressively male so this morning I turned on the sun to see they all had raggedy little tails after beating the shit out of each other over the One Woman on Earth.

[jeanivere]

arthur morgan tiddies and tummy thats all im gonna say

[me-beef]

@strangeravatar made a great point

i was gonna focus on the spike-hotboxing-celestia aspect but i got distracted somewhere along the way and i think i forgot what joke i was trying to make

but dont you think its interesting how many guards of the exact same color/body type she's managed to accrue?? i do

ooohh you want to go look at our stickers so bad

[homosexualcitron]

Did Luka just casually ask the aliens to put giant pictures of Ivan during the event

[dragooned-speaks]

Down Into The Empty Pit of H*ll

Hello ppl! My first attempt at an actual fandom fic, and since I never watched the streams, I did my best but some details may be off. Also, this applies to personality. I did my best to write them in character, but when you’re relying on fanfics to do this… yeah. Also, Tommy was exiled on an island.. right? I tried not to cuss for Tommy so… Also, this might be stretching the timeline (I’m not that up to date on Dream SMP), and this probably didn’t happen, but I wrote this. Now it’s my headcanon (my first!) Also, fair warning, I didn’t read through this after writing it. Whelp, gotta pray on my life for it I guess.

TWs: Death, Temporary Death, Major Character Death, Permanent Deaths, Limbo, Dead People, Bleeped Out Cusses, Angst Without A Happy Ending, Spoilers for Dsmp, Killing, Slight gore? (Aka dead body right after dying), This Is Kinda An Ambiguous Ending, Possession, Illusions, Limbo, Emotional Damage, characters that are (probably) ooc.

“Why don’t you go see him then.”

With those words, the moldy, brown green potato hit him for the last time, and-

THUD

Cold concrete pressed against his skin as the freezing temperature jump started him once more. He had definitely broken something, and he could practically hear his wings screaming in pain. He brought his hands up to push away the dirty, grimy blond hair before freezing. His hands were calloused from exile, but he swore he had at least dunked his hair in water once or twice in the cold, briny water of the sea that surrounded his island.

“Tommy?”

The voice trembled in the air, as if it might fall flat of its target. It was quiet, somber, and yet… it was familiar to him.

Turning, he found himself faced with his.. his brother. But there was something wrong with him. His once peachy, vibrant skin had dulled to an ashy gray, worse than Pogtopia, borderline monotone. His wings were no longer brown, rather ragged and gray not unlike Ghostbur’s. Bright warm brown eyes were empty like the void and dark like the corners of this strange hall.

His brown, fluffy hair he loved to spend so long caring for was limp and dull, sporting a white streak. The beanie he loved so much was tattered and worn, and it looked years older than when Tommy had last seen it.

“You died?” Wilbur asked, without beating around a bush as he would have before.

Confused, the young avian tilted his head.

“I… didn’t die?”

Wilbur smiled, but it looked sad, and tears that used to flow stained his face.

“That’s what they all say, don’t they?”

Dying… suddenly, a light brown blob flashed before his eyes, being swung straight towards him as he closed his eyes, waiting, as he heard the sadistic laugh of the one named-

“Tommy?”

A cry of agonizing pain shook the halls, and Tommy jumped as his reddish brown wings ruffled in panic. He turned over to see… Wilbur, flickering as he fell to the floor. Without knowing it, Tommy was instantly at his side, easing him back to his feet.

“What happened W- what happened?”

He wasn’t ready to say the name just yet.

Again, Wilbur flashed him that same sad smile he had before.

“It’s Dream, Tommy.”

Confusion must have been clear on his face, as Wilbur took in a deep breath before speaking.

“The wielder of the Revival Book controls limbo-“

“The Revival Book?!” Tommy interrupted. “It’s real?”

“Yes, Tommy,” Wilbur said, smile somehow even sadder. “It’s real, and its wielder controls limbo, whether it’s pleasant or terrible, or if it feeds off your fear.”

“Dream…”

“Yes, and I was chosen for this position.”

“What position?”

“I have to show people the way and send them on to their limbo.”

Tommy’s blue eyes quickly snapped towards Wilbur’s face from where they were straying away.

“Wait what?!”

Wilbur’s eyebrows bent in a u shape, as if sympathetic.

“The limbo knows all I want is to keep people safe, so now I have to send people off knowing that they’ll be suffering.”

“Why can’t I just stay here though?” Tommy asked, head tilting in the bird like way he tended to. “What’s stopping me?”

“Oh, Tommy, I would keep every spirit here if I could, but I can’t.”

“Well- that’s- that’s stupid!” Tommy spat, turning his head away before Wilbur could see his watery eyes.

Suddenly, Wilbur’s eyes shot open, and his body stiffened.

“Wilbur?” Tommy tried.

“Glad to see you two have been getting along,” Wilbur sneered.

Immediately, Tommy stiffened, recognizing the sadist’s voice.

“Oh, come on Tommy,” Wilbur grinned. “Playtime’s over now.”

“Get the f*ck away b*tch!” Tommy cried, scrambling backwards, tears evaporating in his fear.

“Come on, that’s no way to treat your only friend, is it now?”

Tommy flinched, and slowly glanced up, feeling the feathers on his head poof as he saw Wilbur’s eyes glowing that hateful shade of green as strings held his brother up like a puppet. Before he registered what was happening, “Wilbur” grabbed his arm and dragged him into a subway train that had come without him noticing.

As “Wilbur” threw him into the train car, he saw tears glistening in the dark eyes of his once brother.

“Goodbye Wilby.” He whispered, and by magic, which was probably true, Wilbur heard him.

As the train doors began to close, Tommy saw Wilbur’s eyes no longer glowing as he ran toward the shutting doors, full on crying. As the train began to move, he barely caught the whisper of sound that left his brother’s lips.

“Goodbye Toms.”

Tommy didn’t know how long it was until the train doors opened, only that it felt like months had passed in the small, compact compartment he was shut in. He grew used to the hard, plastic chairs and the shade of green that ruined his life striped against the gray iron of the walls. He knew where everything was, so there was no need to open his eyes. It hurt when he kept them open too long. Finally, when he felt like he was going stir crazy, the doors finally opened.

Slowly, Tommy’s eyes peeled open, and all he saw was a hazy version of the hall he had left Wilbur in. Wilbur…

As he focused his eyes, he jumped when he saw Wilbur’s sad, somber face appear in the mist. But something was wrong… his eyes glistened like a mad man, and he held his hands near a- Tommy’s heart dropped. He held his hand near a button.

The Button.

“It was never meant to be!” Wilbur shouted at the sky.

Tommy sprung at him, muscles coiled tight as his wings beat to help him travel towards his avian brother.

“No!”

Wilbur slammed his hand on the button, and everything burned a bright color. Tommy braced himself, wings instinctively covering his head and body with the soft feathers. When the painful glare dimmed and his eyes weren’t killing him, he opened his eyes. There it was, L’manberg, in all its unfinished glory.

“Do it Philza, kill me!”

“Yo-you-re- You’re my son!”

“They all want you to, look at them!”

Tommy ran towards the pair, already knowing what had happened on November 16th. He tackled towards Phil, only to fall straight through, landing hard and skidding on the cold concrete flooring.

“Do it, Killza kill me!”

Tommy heard a gut wrenching scream, and as he turned, he froze at the body of his brother, cradled in the hands of his killer.

As he turned, the mist filled the empty space as he curled into a small ball in that empty, green fog filling his senses. How long had it been since he entered his limbo? It felt like years, ticking by as voices spoke seemingly in his ear to gain his attention and force him to live through another scene that he runs from.

“We have a traitor here in our midst.”

The execution.

“You wanna be a hero Tommy?”

Technoblade’s betrayal.

“It’s for the peace, Tommy.”

The betrayal of Tubbo, his best friend.

“Tommy. You f*cked up.”

Scared, Tommy’s wings poofed out again, and he subconciously jerked his head towards the voice. As he focused, bright green eyes shone in the darkening mist. The unnaturally pale fingers grabbed at his arm once more and tugged him upwards.

“F*CK!” Tommy screamed, and no, he did not scream like a little girl.

He screamed like the big man he was. The ceiling rushed towards him, closing in as he reached the roof of his limbo- and passed straight through. For another eternity he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t think, as he hurtled through dark void after dark void.

He glimpsed a broken man, bottles littering the floor and ram horns jutting into his eyes. A short, squat man wearing a mustache and a brightly colored sombrero patterned with red, green and white sticking out his tongue while crying out of his left eye at the sight of hundreds of dead bodies. So many others flashed by, limbo after limbo as Tommy shot upwards, dragged by the hand of his “friend”.

Finally, he broke through the surface, appearing in a small obsidian box with lava for a wall. He gasped for breath as he lay, heaving on the mix of crying and normal obsidian.

“How long were you down there Tommy?”

Tommy ignored him.

“I said.”

Fingers grabbed harshly at Tommy’s face, pulling it to look up at the face of the liar, the psycho, the crazy manipulator who ruined his life. His supposed friend smirked down at him, green eyes glowing maniacally.

“How long. Were you down there?”

“I- I don’t know,” Tommy rambled. “A- a week- a month? Ph-Phil, where’s Phil? Where’s Fundy? Where’s Jack? Anybody?!”

At the final sentence, he looked around the cell desperately.

“Tommy-“

“L- let me go you b*stard.”

“TOMMY!”

Silence followed the loud yell that Dream had emitted as Tommy cowered beneath the older man.

“You were down there for two days.”

“Wha- what?”

“Two days, Tommy, no more, no less.”

Tommy, however, wasn’t listening as he looked at his back. Or rather, his wings. They were gray, twisted masses that, instead of Wilbur’s new bright blue like Ghostbur’s when he hands out his blue, it was a dark, leafy green that leered at him.

“Tommy. Are. You. Listening.”

Each and every syllable was an angry breath. Tommy slowly cranked his head upwards, as he say Dream readying another starch filled punch.

“Maybe now you’ll learn to listen.”

As the fist charged towards his face, a new but prominent instinct in Tommy took hold, and he phased through the punch. He wanted to laugh at Dream’s shocked face, but he was too scared.

He had finally cracked, and he yelled with all his might, “SAM! HELP! HE’S KILLING ME!”

Dream flinched away from the yell and another voice was heard in the distance.

“I’m coming Tommy! Just hang on!”

The lava slowly stopped dripping downwards and Tommy stepped onto the platform.

“Suck it, green boy.”

As he was leaving he brought his hands up once more to brush away the blonde locks- but once again he froze. A huge chunk of his hair had a white streak, just like the one he saw in Wilbur’s hair.

[reasonsforhope]

Sometimes you just have one of those moments where the progress we've made as a culture get thrown into stark relief. You look at something and go "Holy shit, that would never have happened when I was a kid."

Today, I had one of those moments when I realized that the teenage boys I'm working with are just. genuinely, openly enthusiastic about going to Build-a-Bear for their outing.

These are sixteen and seventeen year old boys! They just had a whole conversation about what to name their "cute", mostly new squishmallows! They're genuinely excited that they're going to Build-a-Bear this weekend and asking other kids to pick up specific accessories for them!!

Holy shit, that never would've happened when I was 16. None of the boys would have dared to be visibly interested - and neither would most of the girls! There would have been a million gay jokes and "Haha, you're a girl" jokes and "What are you, a baby?" jokes. Teenagers weren't even supposed to care about anything back then!

Less than 15 years later, and I'm watching three 17 year old boys treat all that as not even worthy of comment.

So let's call that a reason for hope. Even when the kids aren't alright, in some ways apparently they are alright. Go Gen Z, honestly. It's so lovely to watch you guys just openly doing and saying stuff that, when I was a teen, would've been a social death sentence.

[bet-on-me-13]

The weirdly competent Doctor

So! The Watchtower's Medical Bay is a hub of constant Activity. With the number of Heroes who work under the Justice League, there are always injuries, health check-Ups, and illnesses that need healing.

But with the amount of Variant Biologies that those Heroes have, it's always a guessing game as to how to help them best. Some Metahumans react positively to penicillin, but others react like it's their Kryptonite. Some Aliens have anatomy similar to Humans, others are so different you can't tell the Stomach from the Bladder.

So when they hired a New Doctor for the Medical Bay, they had to run him through an entire Course on Variant Biologies and how best to treat specific Heroes. It was long and difficult to remember fully, but it was necessary for him to know.

But then the new Doctor started correcting Them.

"Actually, Martian's react better to the Syrup of Eucalyptus Plants better than Penicillin, since Eucalyptus is very similar to a medicinal plant from Mars which they used in many of their antibiotics."

"I don't think just pumping double doses of sedative is the best way to calm down a Speedster, that could have adverse effects on their body. Perhaps try Psychic Intervention? Their minds move a Mile a Second, but if you can calm them down their bodies will follow suit."

"Of course you use Micro-Doses of Kryptonite to operate on Superman! What else would you do?! I don't know, maybe ask JLD to enchant your Equipment to make use of Kryptonian suseptiblity to Magic? The Kryptonite is just gonna give him Cancer!"

Of course the Doctors didn't take kindly to being rudely corrected by a newbie, and Fired him on his first day.

Then a few days later their usual Treatments don't work, and they decide to give those strategies the Quack Doctor gave them out of desperation.

And Lo and Behold, they work! Martian Manhunter is fully healed and feels much better than the previous times he has needed surgery. Apparently they used a different Antibiotic that worked better with his Biology. Which was incredible, how had they figured it out?

Another Doctor you say? One who was experienced on Martian Biology and Medicinal History? He would very much like to meet with the man!

...

What do you mean you fired him for talking back?!

[emeriart]

He's just a dead boy detective

[cioscizor]

Ivan and Sua post round 6