#paul matthews clones

[artyfartyliz]

based on this onion article

bonus half drawn richie because i realised "wait they're cats and not wearing anything" lmao

[itsdefinitely]

Can you please draw some Murder Paulkins (Paul 23 and Emdroid)

normal couple activities

[daiwild]

Forever & Always Paulkins ?

Orr Tinkoffski 👀

The Matthew-Perkins. Second normal-est Hatchetfield couple. The first normal-est are the Jerries, obv.

[kickmyheadbill]

wow paul 23 is such an asshole he is totally babygirl

[kawaiidreameater]

You know, I was thinking like "man, I'm surprised there isn't like Paul clone OCs they look pretty cool" and then I saw that the asks in the Paul Matthews roleplayer feed are now all different Paul clones and I find that pretty funny

We NEED to make Paul clone OCs just like there are Fake Peppino OCs in the Pizza Tower fandom I am begging the opportunities are ENDLESS

[r1ch1e-l1psh1tz]

do u have any 11 hcs :)/ nf

YEAH!! :D

Since his vocal cords were fucked up, when he first woke up and tried to speak and was terrified when he realized he couldn’t speak.

The workers didn’t really like to beat him since he didn’t have any vocal reactions.

He does like spending time with his family, but he likes to be alone sometimes since he feels bad that he can’t communicate.

If he’s ever in a bad mood, he likes to go to the library to calm himself.

He seems like the type to really like canela.

If he doesn’t really like cars due to his fear of tight spaces, especially if there’s a lot of people crammed in there.

That’s all I have! Sorry if these aren’t the best. Have a good day!! :D

[pinazee]

Im finally getting into the nightmare series and i just have to know

Why would they clone paul at least 23 times????

they apparently share his personality and traits so its not like they’re getting a particularly strong or intelligent army. Why him??? Is the Paul in TGWDLM even the real paul?? Who the fuck is the real paul? Can we treat any Paul character like he’s real??

[notanerdyprude]

WHERES THAT POST ABOUT MR DAVIDSON SAYING “I HIRE YOU PAULS” IN I WANT YOU TO WANT BECAUSE HE ABSOLUTELY SAYS PAULS PLURAL

[oddmp4out]

HI!!!!

im paul clone number 4! but youcm yoi you can call me paul 4, clone 4, 4, whatever you want. I really like mp4 but whatefifb whatever!

im a clone of matthews!! but if its not obviuns obvious, im very different from him!! please treat me like my omw onwm owm own person because i am.

i do not know if i am transmasc or not!!! maybe i am because matthews is..... i also do not know who i like!

i like retro computers, food, horror movies, coloring, joe keerry keery, orcas, and uh. other stuff! ill figure it out.

the reset has begun. clear history? [yes] no

MY BEST FRIENDS ARE @better-than-u-twentytwo AND @paul-clone-33 AND @paul-matthews87 AND @paul23-bizarrely AND @paul-clone2 AND @paul-clone-11 AND @paul-matt8 AND @just-another-paul-clone AND @not-just-another-clone AND @devoteeoftheeyes !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HI GUYS!!!!!!

Oh, and... I suppose I must introduce myself, yes? My name is Máire. It/its, and.. what have you.

I don't plan on making many new fwendy-wends, I only thought ol' Foursy could use... a little more happiness. Well, when I'm around...

ooc: uh hi! i basically created mp4 lmao, hes my "paul clone sona" if you will. i dont really feel super comfortable sharing who i am ooc if i dont trust you outside of rp so. yeah! i use the same pronouns as mp4, and you can call me razputin :)

please do send asks! mp4 would love 2 chat :3

#mp4th wall is my ooc tag

#mp3 audio file is the tag for in-universe tumblr rps

#mp4 live video is the tag for "irl" rps

#mp4 video file is the tag for random other mp4 stuff

#file not found is the tag for unsure rps

#razputin talks is my old ooc tag and #four time! is my old rp tag

thats all! g'day!

[confoodles]

and if u KICK every single Paul out of this country then WHO is going to be keeping ur stock high, Mr. Davidson?

[smilecult]

The great thing is, the hugeeee amounts of Paul rp accounts can just be explained as Paul clones XD

[lollipencil]

ID-7 in CCRP

Title sucks, but it'll do.

A general warning for Mayhem's level of violence and swearing. And for spoilers for Nightmare Time S1 Ep2 "Forever and Always".

Enjoy and be gentle ---

Up until the lockdown, the day seemed perfectly normal. Everyone filtered in at their usual times, took their seats, and got to work.

It worked its way through them all slowly. Level by level. In the coming weeks, attempts to find how the virus entered the building (or Hatchetfield for that matter) would fail. The only thing that could be known was that by mid-morning, most of the building's occupants were showing the early signs of infection.

---

Paul stumbled out of Mr Davidson's office, rubbing his left eye. Those words kept circling around in his head like vultures. Disgust and shock filled his every thought as he kept mentally asking the same question.

Why?

Then, quite suddenly, an intense anger unfurled itself within Paul. It rippled swiftly through his brain, coating each thought with a rage far deeper than anything Paul had ever felt before.

His jaw clenched tight.

He ignored everything around him as he strode through the office with purpose. All the fights, the thrown words and objects. None of it mattered. He needed to get to the elevator.

When a hand closed around his wrist, Paul almost punched whoever it was. The hit never landed, but Bill still flinched: "For fuck's sake, Paul! What's the matter with you!?" "It's too far," Paul panted harshly, his eye now blood-red, "They've gone too fucking far!" "What the fuck are you-?" "You know what Sam!" Charlotte's voice bellowed suddenly, "I want a motherfucking divorce!"

As Bill turned his head to look as she burst out in cathartic laughter, Paul tore his wrist free and bolted straight inside the elevator. "Paul, wait-!" Bill's voice was cut off by the doors. Leaving Paul to glare into his own reflection.

---

The basement was in anarchy. Bodies writhed in fury and ecstasy, papers littered the floor, and raised voices formed a constant hum. The soft ding of the elevator went unnoticed.

The person who left it did not.

Paul didn't have a plan. Well, he had the summary of one. Find out who was responsible, and "file a very informal complaint" to all relevant parties. What he needed but did not have, was a starting point. So he was improvising.

Aimless but driven, he ran through the hallways. Surprisingly, he found little resistance. Before a hand snatched his arm and yanked him into a side room. Hard.

Paul landed inside an office with a thump as the door slammed shut. Instantly, a large frame had him pinned on his back to the rough carpet. "And just where the fuck do you think you're going?" the office's owner, standing above Paul in front of her desk, asked almost calmly. "Just looking for the bastard in charge down here," Paul borderline snarled. "Well, guess I'll have to do then. Pierce, which one of the little shits is this?"

Pierce barely moved, just shifted his weight so Paul's right sleeve was pulled down by the carpet. He glanced at Paul's wrist and frowned. "No number," he grunted. "Oh?" the woman's eyebrow twitched up slightly before she turned to Paul, "Oh, I see how it is. Regardless of your plans and the current situation, company policy must be followed." Suddenly, a box cutter was in her hand, and her knee landed directly on Paul's right palm: "No exceptions."

And, for the next minute, all Paul could focus on was the pain. He screamed out and bucked violently, but nothing changed. Then it did.

None of them had even noticed their sudden audience until they chose to intervene. Two figures shoulder-checked Pierce while Paul could just about spot a fist collide with the woman's face. Hands suddenly but gently grabbed parts of his suit and helped him up.

For a split second, Paul just watched. Watched as the two figures kept pummeling Pierce as he lay on the ground, inches from where he'd pinned Paul. And then he spotted the box cutter. Discarded, the blood on the blade still bright red. The haze of virally-enhanced rage washed over him again. Instantly, he picked up the box cutter, knelt by the third figure's side, and joined in with the stabbing.

Paul's wrist burned as the movement aggravated the wound, but he barely noticed. He just kept going. Over and over, in and out. Until the squirming stopped.

He panted harshly as he took in the bloody mess he'd helped make. "You assholes done?" a voice asked as casually as if discussing the weather. "Oh, shut the fuck up Five," The third figure answered with the same voice. His voice. Blinking dumbly, Paul finally turned from the corpse to face the room.

Literally everyone breathing in that room had his face. Paul started to laugh. "What the fuck?" the clone he'd helped stab Mrs Box Cutter muttered, but Paul didn't care. He just laughed, because of course. What were the odds?

The sudden feeling of water on his wrist startled Paul back to the room. "Trust me, you'll thank me later when you don't have a goddamn infection," another clone, who'd at some point walked up to him with a first aid kit, stated plainly as he discarded the water bottle he'd just upended over Paul's wrist. Then, he paused. And tilted his head, staring. "Huh. Well, well." "What?" the stabby clone promptly looked at Paul's wrist and noticed himself, "Heh, well then... Welcome to the fucking party, Template."

---

Several miles away, General John MacNamera waited as his phone dialed.

Over the past two hours, someone in Hatchetfield had been leaking documents onto the internet. Now, this normally wouldn't matter too much, but those documents were uncensored. And certain keywords had appeared on one in particular.

The dialtone went once, twice, three times. It picked up. "Who the fuck is this?" instantly answered Paul Matthews. "General John MacNamara." "Okay?" "Approximately half an hour ago, several confidential documents belonging to CCRP were leaked into the internet, via your work account. One of those documents has peaked my department's interest." "Right. Could you excuse me for just a moment?" Paul asked fairly politely for a Redder. "Sure, go ahead."

While not meant for John's ears, the phone was left uncovered enough for him to hear the resulting conversation: "Okay, I've got a fucking general on the phone about me supposingly leaking shit online. I know I didn't do it, so it had to be one of you assholes." A chrous of "not me" followed. "It was me," someone finally spoke up. "What the fuck Ten?" "Wha- Have you read this shit?!" Ten defended himself, the faint rustling of papers making John smile.

They still had it.

"Right," Paul put the phone back on his ear, "It looks like I did, technically." "Do you have the originals in question?" "Yes I do," before Paul then hissed to someone else, "Give me that!" "Good. I need you to find one specific file, it should have the phrase 'Black and White' somewhere on it."

The flicking of pages followed, then a weighty pause: "What in the actual fuck am I reading?" "You and your... new relatives' ticket out of there." "What kind of occult shit are they doing down here?" the flicking of paper grew as Paul kept reading, "How the hell-?"

Then Paul went dead quiet. "Mr Matthews?" John carefully called out. Only to have to pull the phone away from his ear sharply. Yep, he had read that part.

Emotional hijacking was no joke.

The phone had either been handed to or taken by someone, not that that rendered the sound of Paul's enraged screaming any less audible. "Do I want to know what he just read?" Another clone promptly greeted John. "Considering his current state, no." "Fuck this place! Fuck it straight to hell!" Paul bellowed loud enough to be heard while clearly far from the receiver, "I'm not a mindless drone! And I will not be their fucking guinea pig!" "Put the lighter down-!" someone yelled before a lot of shuffling in the background.

"So, what do you need?" the clone asked. "That one file in as perfect condition as you can manage," John stated firmly before adding. "Okay then," before moving from the reciever, "Hey, you. Put this in that plastic wallet. Good, now hold on to it, and you had better guard that shit like its your damn firstborn child-"

As the clone hung up, John nodded to himself and got up. Time to visit Hatchetfield.

---

Less than an hour before lockdown was to end, Paul finally returned to his department. He looked like hell itself had chewed him up and spat him out. His shirt was soaked in blood, his tie was being used to hold a wad of bandages to his wrist, and bruises dotted his exposed skin (and likely the covered skin as well). There was a wildness to his eyes.

He marched on, uncaring of any possible reactions to his appearance or the seemingly endless chain of equally feral clones that tailed him. As it was, no one looked up. At his destination, Paul knocked firmly on the door. "Oh, Mr Davidson?" he called before swinging the door open. To Mr Davidson's already dead body.

He and all his clones stared blankly at him, at the tie that had been way too tight around his neck, at the hand tucked between his legs, before someone finally closed the door. "Well, shit," 23 summed up quite nicely. "Now what?" 16 sighed. "I don't know," Paul shrugged, feeling somewhat lost, "Have some coffee?"

It was during the third round of coffees that Bill stumbled into them all. "What the fuck?" he muttered as he stared out into the sea of Pauls huddled in the break room. "Bill!" One cried out happily, and the rest soon joined in.

Suddenly, Bill was surrounded on all sides. The crowd was utterly delighted to see him. "It's so nice to finally see you in person!" one of them said to a series of nods from his neighbors. "What?!" Bill asked helplessly as he looked from Paul to Paul for any sign of why this was happening.

It took ten minutes of being passed around to each for a quick hug, before Bill reached what he was reasonably sure was his Paul. Under all the bruises and blood. "Hey, sorry about earlier," he said before Bill could say anything, "Had something I needed to do." "Who are they?" Bill gasped, eyes still flicking from one to another. "My clones," Paul stated quite plainly. "What." "Yeah," Paul patted his shoulder gently, "I've got one hell of a story for you, buddy."

---

The lockdown ending felt unreal.

As the virus's effects left Paul's mind, he briefly wondered if he'd done the right thing. But, seeing his clones take their first breath of fresh air in their lives, he found he didn't care that much.

General MacNamara was true to his word, quickly rounding them up into a massive tent for more private medical treatment after accepting the file. "Nicely done," he said as Paul's wrist was stitched up. And, as Paul went back to the hastily made seating area, it was with a job offer echoing around his skull.

As he sat, staring at the zero on his wrist he'd been warned would likely scar, Paul suddenly remembered: "Fuck, what am I going to tell Emma?"

[lilacthebooklover]

i love this

Here is my take on the Jon Matteson character family tree! Under the cut because it got very long. I spent way too long on this. Random headcannons I came up with below.

Jon’s Nighthawk is not actually related because he is a bird, but he always shits on Carl Metzger. Louie always said it was good luck to to make his brother feel better about it.

Bob’s first two children were taken by Blinky, so now he keeps a very close eye on the rest.

Bob is long-lived because of the magic in the Witchwood. (I was trying to get him to be around the same age as Emma’s great grandfather. If I did ages I could make it work but the generations messed me up.)

Everyone in Hatchetfield hates Carl Mason for no reason. They refuse to listen to his broadcasts, which led to more people getting hurt on Black Friday.

Wallace always has to field questions about his brother, who is not a great man. The Northville Actor’s wife left him and took Trevor back to Hatchetfield. Sidenote: If anyone has the link to the primary source of the Secretary of Defense’s name, please let me know or add it to the wiki.

[lacedspine]

no one understands paul matthews like me. he’s mr normal man. he’s at the center of everything. he has no wants. he wants there to be something. he’s in love with a crabby barista. he would never save the planet single-handedly. he almost saved the planet single-handedly. he wears a brown suit. he wears a christmas sweater. he and emma find each other in every timeline. he and emma don’t like labels. he has never gotten lucky once in his life. he got cloned. he got kidnapped. he is dubiously into pet play. he is semi-canonically bisexual. he is so normal. he doesn’t like musicals.

[soupdwelling]

i love how paul matthews is referred to as the “normal guy” but also he has several clones making a colony on the moon and he once smuggled his coworker out of the hospital and willingly pretended to be her pet cat because he developed stockholms syndrome and his greatest dream is to be a 4 foot tall anthropomorphic squirrel

[teranobriss]

The universe seems to fundamentally underestimate Paul Matthews. Sure, he's a strikingly regular guy. He likes coffee, works an office job, and doesn't like musicals.

But the world simply cannot predict him, no matter how intensely it would like to.

Despite his alarming normality, Paul was willing to sacrifice himself in an attempt to save humanity from the musical apocalypse.

He put himself in harm's way to help save his friend's daughter.

An identical clone of him staged a revolution against his creators and murdered his way into life.

Paul Matthews is a force to be reckoned with, a fact which is simply hidden from the world under layers and layers of normal, working-man nature. And it means his very presence challenges the timelines in the most unexpected ways.