Teenagers

by BuckyTheDragon

Summary:

Michael the Zombie Piglin never really questioned why his parents (and everyone else) left the SMP. He never had a reason more than ‘it sucked so we left’ and that was enough for him.
Apparently, not all the children of the SMP shared his indifference.
A quick trip to the SMP turns into far more when the next generation find what the last left behind.
Who they left behind.

Two actual chapters and just as much of the AU as I have. Not a full fic.

Chapter 1: Prologue and Chapter 1: Philza’s Ranch for City Kids; aka prick without the I.

Prologue 

“Enough is enough.” Tommy’s voice rings clear and precise around the community house. A server wide meeting was called after the events of the Red Banquet. The Crimson was defeated, but for how long? “I am leaving this stupid server. I don’t care if you are staying, but I am packing and grabbing my kid and going. I’m fucking done.” 

Simple words, but they got the SMP thinking. They could just leave, couldn’t they? Why were any of them still here? Everyone had a life before (well, almost everyone), they could go back. Tommy opened the floodgates. One by one, everyone agrees, some faster than others. Nikki wants to start a new bakery in a city, she invites the syndicate and Jack to join her. Las Nevadas makes plans for an actually accessible location. Puffy gathers an smp crew to sail with. Only George remembers the hiccup. 

“What about Dream, is he staying or?” The room falls silent as the smp weighs the pros and cons. No one seems particularly bothered by the question other than the inconvenience of it, not even George. 

Sam breaks the silence. “The prison is already pretty automated. In a day or so I could make a couple auto farms for the essentials.” 

No one wants to think too hard on those implications, so no one does. Sam’s answer is satisfactory. 

Techno overslept the meeting. He wakes the next day with Philza telling him to pack and choose his favourite pets, they are leaving tomorrow.

One: Philza’s Ranch for City Kids; aka prick without the I. 

For as long as Michael remembers, he’s gone to Phil’s farm every summer. Apparently it has something to do with self reliance and shit. Michael isn’t a fan. It is hot, stinky, and bugs always eat him alive. Or dead, if you are one of the kids he goes to school with. Because, according to them, he’s a fucking corpse. High school is the worst. 

The only good thing about the stupid farm is seeing the other kids who also don’t want to be there, all the kids that apparently lived in the same place as him when they were all too young to remember anything. Wooooooooo! But they aren’t bad, and, at this point, everyone had hate bonded over Phil’s stupid chores and activities. 

This year would be the same as last year and the year before that. All the stupid years. Michael stepped out of the car with his younger sister, Ketchup, that his Dad had procured in a bet years ago. He thinks, at least. The details have always been sketchy in a lot of ways. His ram dad helps him unpack the few bags, just a backpack and duffle for each, and rattles off the same speech as every year. Blah blah blah, try to have fun, blah blah blah, family, blah blah blah, life skills. Michael rolls his eye but hums in agreement, cleaning his glasses so his hands have something to do. The sooner the speech is over, the sooner this trip is over. Tubbo gives them both one last hug before getting back in the car and driving away. 

Ketchup sticks her hand in Michael’s, her soft, red-orange fur tickling his palms. He readjusts his duffel, taking hers as well. She giggles and skips, pulling Michael across the dry grass that is just green enough to count as alive. Just like him. The house isn’t far, but the heat makes it feel farther. Ketchup hums something inconsistent and incoherent. She barely talks. Foxes are so damn weird. 

Speaking of weird foxes, Yogurt stands on the porch, their tail wagging like a dog. He met Yogurt at this farm, back when the both of them had hope for the future and didn’t understand Fundy’s tension. Michael can’t help but smile, at least someone’s happy to see him. 

“Yoooooooo, nice of you to join the party. I’ve been stuck with Jr and Finley since yesterday morning.” They have a new piercing in their ear, a silver band halfway up the cartilage. “If I have to hear anything more about ocean monuments or whatever he’s spouting, I’m throwing him off the roof!” 

Michael rolls his eye again but speeds up. Ketchup decides he is still going too slow, and abandons both Michael and her duffle in favour of running mach speeds directly at Yogurt. A red blur again the yellowish green. 

Yogurt takes a moment too long to process their sort of sister, sort of aunt, barrowling towards them. They manage to brace for impact but still end up with a furry fireball pile driving their chest. A resounding ‘oof’ bounces off the wooden siding, and Yogurt has to take several unbalanced steps backwards to avoid falling on their ass. Michael snickers.

 One paw wraps around Ketchup, keeping her from slipping while she nuzzles, the other flips Michael off. 

“He try some presentation type shit,” Michael asks, finishing the final stretch. “Labelled diagrams?” Michael readjusts his bags for the billionth time and opens the two part barn door. The house is the same hot farm house it always is. Dull bulbs in lamp shades running around the highest stretch of wall. A mix of wood panels and patterned wallpaper under the lights. Wooden beams serve as a ceiling above the scratchy hardwood floors. Michael drops his bags at the first room to his left. It isn’t the one he’s staying in, but he’s sick of carrying them. 

“Nah,” says Yogurt, unsuccessfully pulling Ketchup off of themself. “Y’all know I can’t read.” The accent makes ‘y’all’ a thousand times funnier. 

Michael snorts and gently removes Ketchup from Yogurt. “Come on Ketch,” he stage whispers while shaking his sister. “You can’t just terrorise Yogurt like that! That treatment is for Junior.” He sets her down with a head pat, and she disappears into the house, probably to find Finley, she likes when the younger totem braids her hair. 

A glance up shows the shit eating grin on Yogurt’s face. Michael needs to stop rolling his last remaining eye before it falls out. “Shut up.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” For a fox, they certainly have a wolfish quality. Always ready to eat Michael whole. “I think it’s cute, really, that you love MY sister so much.” 

Growling, Michael turns fully away from Yogurt. Technically, neither knows where Ketchup came from, but the fox features and stunning similarity to Yogurt’s dad, Fundy, leaves some extra questions. Ones that Phil avoids at all cost. Which makes it all 1000% more suspicious. Stupid old man. Yogurt is (probably) the only one actually related to him, as he’s their great grandfather from the lineage of Wilbur The Not Dead But Convinced He Is who fathered Fundy The Somehow A Fox who then had Yogurt The One Who Refuses To Read Out Of Principle. 

Of course, Shroud and Clemintine are Uncle Tommy’s kids, and Tommy is mostly Philza’s son, but both are adopted. Well, all three, technically. 

And then there is Michael and Ketchup, one might be a Minecraft, the other is just a zombie piglin one of his dads decided to take home. At least Phil likes Ranboo as if he were family. Last, and probably least, are the totem kids, Foolish Jr and Finley. They have nothing to do with The Family but are still here. 

That was all of them, right? Michael picks up the bags as a way of not dealing with Yogurt. Or the long lasting argument of Ketchup’s heritage. Argument is too strong of a word. Inside joke? Whatever, he’d ask Michele later. 

“MICHAEL!” Oh. Yeah. Her. Speak of the devil. How’d he forget her? 

He paints on his most believable smile and braces himself for what is about to happen. The floors creak in rapid succession as she pops into his peripheral vision, wide smile far more genuine than his own. Michael does like Michelle, truely, he does. She’s just… 

The female zombie piglin snatches a bag from Michael, her curly hair is shorter than last year but still falls gracefully around her ears and jaw. “Are we rooming again this year? I’ve missed you. You’re a horrible pen pal, Mikey.” 

Michael laughs and uses his free hand to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, just not much to report, I guess.” Other than the bullying. Perfect Michelle wouldn’t get that. Captain of the tennis team Michelle. He doesn’t hate her. “Anyway, I think Yogurt and I were bunking this time.” He glances at the open door to the hallway. “RIGHT?” 

With a lazy shout, Yogurt makes themself known. “Yeah, me, him, and Shroud.” 

Ah fuck. Not Shroud. Not three people living in the same room for a month and a half. Michelle tilts her head, golden hoop earrings tinikling against one another. An unimpressed disbelief painting her face. “Really?” 

Michael laughs again, it is his only defence mechanism other than running away. And Yogurt’s leaned in the only exit. “Yeah, you know, we are all getting older. Not kids so, uh, yeah. The boys, you know?” He prays to whatever god still cares that she knows, ‘cause he certainly doesn’t. 

“Not a boy,” Yogurt says lazily. The two piglins snort in acknowledgement. Yogurt was actually the one to name Shroud, Mike, and themself ‘The boys trio.’ They just like being combative. Michael learned that the hard way. 

Michelle sighs. “Sure, sixteen is totally fine, but seventeen? Hell no. That’s gross! Ew, girls and guys can’t sleep in separate beds in the same room! Scandalous.” 

Shit fuck. Fuck shit. Why does he ruin everything? “Uh, well–” 

Yogurt cuts him off, thank god. “We were actually planning on pushing all the beds together. Just bros being bros. Homies being homies, if you will. Three hetrosexuals snuggling with socks shoved up every possible–”  Michael makes a strangled noise. Ok, maybe that was worse than whatever trainwreck Michael would have come up with. 

With a dramatic twist, Michelle shouts, “I fucking get it, alright? Disgusting…” She leaves too quickly for Michael to hear the rest of the rant. Probably for the best. 

Both watch the door and listen to her muffled stomping and muttering. 

“Wow, what’s her problem?” The fox and the pig jump a solid foot in the air, swirling towards the new voice. There, sitting in the window, is Shroud. The itsy bitsy spider bitch. To be fair, only his fluffed hair reaches Michael’s collarbone, and he breaks at least one thing every year. Phil says he gets it from his father. Yogurt’s back to looking unimpressed, his, shit. Their tail much less excited to Shroud than Michael. The boy slips in farther, has to catch balance before he falls from said window and, with the same amount of grace, yanks his ratty backpack through the window. 

Why Shroud has had the same backpack every year for a literal decade is beyond Michael. Probably sentimental or some shit. Michael reaches over to catch Shroud when he loses his balance for the gazillionth time in this short interaction, his dads raised a polite boy. At least his ender dad did. 

Michael pushes Shroud back onto his feet. Shroud bounces on the ball of his feet and smiles up at him in the weird way Shroud always seems to smile at him. Well, not always. The stupid smile seemed to appear out of nowhere at Shroud’s birthday party a few months ago. He turned sixteen. It was a nice party. Uncle Tommy is always a riot. Michael takes a step back aka away from the spider and his creepy red eyes. They have no pupils and glow and there are eight of them, that’s officially in creepyville. But so is Michael with one eye and exposed skeletal structure. 

“Alright, love birds.” Yogurt shoves himself in front of Michael and ruffles Shroud’s hair. “Up stairs. We are sharing the big room.” So this was really happening. Michael didn’t mind Yogurt but three people? One of which is the easily excitable spider hybrid with way too grand of ideas and no common sense? Fuck, man. 

The stairs creak in a familiar but irritating way. Luckily, the bag Michelle stomped out with was Ketchup’s, not Michael’s. That would have been an extra horrible way to continue this already horrible experience. Yogurt goes first, then Michael, and Shroud last, so Yogurt is the first to their new living quarters. Michael has never stayed in this room, he was always in the smaller, two person rooms. Alway with Michelle.

Regardless, the room is sizably larger. There is a single twin bed on one side of the room, a set of bunk beds on the other side, a desk between the beds, a bookshelf off to the side, and a circular woven rug covering most of the wood floor. Overall, no chance of the bed being pushed together for one big bed. Woo. Shroud calls top bunk and no one challenges him on it. A small battle of wills goes on between Michael and Yogurt over the single. Yogurt wins. Michael tosses his bags and self on the lower bunk in defeat. Even with his arm over his face, he can feel Shroud looking at him. 

A small sound prodes him to roll his head towards the door. In the door frame was Shroud’s little… sister? At Shroud’s birthday he remembers Clementine was using some sort of unconventional pronouns or something. Pronouns aren’t gender but… Is the girl still a girl? Michael can’t remember. He’ll ask Shroud later. He’s tired, ok? Clementine stares directly into Michael’s soul for a long second. He’s about to say something when Clementine dashes off just as suddenly as the appearance. 

“Shroud, dude, your sibling is creepy.” Michael sits up and unzips his backpack. There isn’t much more than his notebook, a few books, and his art stuff. Why did he bring it again? Oh, that’s right. ‘Think of all the inspiration in the woods,’ Ender dad had said. 

“Hm?” says Shroud. “You aren’t really one to talk, but yeah. Clem’s kinda creepy.” Michael can hear his shrug. 

Yogurt is the next to pitch in. “What do you mean? She’s always seemed normal to me.” His wolfish grin is overly evident. They’ve never met Clem before. She was adopted last year while this lovely ranch program was running and Yogurt wasn’t at Shroud’s party. Shroud came home to a new sister after the ranch that year, or whatever. 

“Not she, Clem has– whatcha ma call its.” Shroud snaps his fingers on two hands while trying to remember. “Neopronouns. That's it. Clem goes by fae slash faer.” 

Michael isn’t an idiot when it comes to the el jee bee tea cue. He knows gender and sexuality and stuff is all just some long spectrum of everything and anything. But neopronouns always kinda confused him. There are already a couple sets of third person pronouns, two are pretty gender neutral. Why do people find the need to make the English language even more complicated than it is? But it doesn’t matter in the long run and he’d hate for Clem to hate him sooooo. “Can you use that in a sentence, Shroud?” 

“Sure.” Shroud drops much more gracefully off the bed than he did earlier. Why does Shroud need to be on the ground to say a sentence? No clue. “Fae went shopping. I went with Faer. That is faers.” 

Yogurt makes a small sound, somewhere between approval and disdain. Michael jots down the new set of pronouns in his notebook. Eh, at least the spelling is consistent. They all stand at the sound of a bell. Dinner. Yay. They make their way down stairs for the fun family occasion. Phil is a great cook. 

~~~

“No,” says Michael for what has to be the seventeenth time as he rakes up the chicken shit from the chicken pen, one of his chores for the day. Shroud whines loudly behind him. “The answer is still no.” 

“Pleassssssssssssssssse,” Shroud whines. The pair leans against their respective rakes. Honestly, they were done five minutes ago, but, if they leave early, Phil will find something else for them to do. “Come on! Why are you so determined? We could just do a quick peek! The overnight thing was just an idea!” 

Michael growls, an instinctive deep rumble from his throat that is more piglin than human. He turns and towers over Shroud. “Why are you so determined to go? Why do you want to go to some place that sucked so hard all our parents agreed to ditch? That is some serious suckage if they all AGREED, yeah?” 

Shroud tries to pout but his fangs don’t allow him to properly stick his bottom lip out. It looks ridiculous. “But don’t you want to know? Like, what’s happened since? Experience the suck?” 

“That's what she said,” says Yogurt, popping in from nowhere. They’ve got to stop doing that. They eye the chickens like a starved man. Michael hurries Shroud out and locks the gate behind him. Their rakes lean useless against the coop wall. 

“I don’t feel the need, no. I’m good with my–”

“With everything your parents say? ‘Oh, Michael! Stay away from that! You might chip a nail.’” Michael gives Yogurt an unimpressed look, hoping it covers the insecurity. His parents aren’t overprotective, they just worry. And he trusts them, what’s so wrong with that? The SMP is dangerous. People died, if he remembers correctly. 

Shroud leans against Michael, and Michael shoves him off, ineffective due to the spider's sticky genetics. Shroud pulls at his jacket. “Come ooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnn.” 

“Fine. Jesus Christ. Phil is going to say it’s fucking stupid to camp at the Dream SMP anyway. Then you can shut the fuck up, yeah?” Michael rubs the bridge of his snout. The two grin like cats that got the canary. 

~~~

The soft click of the old clock marks the moments before disaster. Micheal stands in front of Phil’s door. How was he talked into this? He wrings his hands. He should leave. Just leave. Lie. Say Phil said no. No one can prove otherwise. He turns on his heels only for the door to swing open. 

“Oh, hi, mate.” 

“Shroud and Yogurt said I should ask you if we can go camp at the old Smp,” he blurts, “but I said that was stupid and that you’d say no, but they made me sooooooooo?” Michael laughs after pulling that ‘so’ far too long. 

A hand claps him on the shoulder. “Sure, you kids can if you want to. I’ll have to pull some things out, SMP’s play by their own rules, you know.” 

Michael chokes on air as Phil leaves him in the hall. He… he said yes? He fucking said yes?! Why would he do that? How dare he! Fuck. FUCK. 

~~~

“I wanna go,” Ketchup whispers at the edge of the garage. Most miss it, but Michael was very skilled in picking up Ketchup’s quiet words. She just turned fourteen yet was still so small and soft in voice and body. She starts high school this year. Michael prays she’s so small and quiet no one notices her enough for bullying. 

“Nah,” says Michael, shutting up a small squabble behind him. “You wouldn’t like it.” He’s currently debating between two sleeping bags, which is very important and not at all stalling. “Besides, you girls will have the house to yourself.” 

“Yeah,” Shroud adds, pointlessly.All he does is talk and argue. “This is a boys night!” 

Yogurt says “not a boy” at the same time Foolish Jr seems to be interested in lower life forms to open the door. 

“Boys night?” All groan, Jr looks expectantly. 

Ketchup tilts her head, hair falling into her face. “How can it be a boys night if you didn’t invite one of the boys?” 

Because we hate him . “I thought Shroud already told him,” Michael lies through his teeth. “It is HIS trip.” 

Michael and Jr are about the same height but Micheal is lanky. Jr is ripped. Too bad he’s such an asshole, he might have been attractive. He completely covers the doorway. What is with everyone and blocking escape routes? This has to be a fire hazard. “Forgot my invitation? Well, I’m glad I stopped by, then.” His green gem eyes glitter. Fucker. 

Shroud clears his throat. “Guess I just got caught up in the excitement. Come pack, if you want to come, that is.” If there is only one thing Michael, Shroud, Yogurt, Michelle, and Finley can all agree on, it’s that almost everything is better when Jr is not invited. Michael can vaguely remember a time when he wasn’t a bitch, a time that is mostly marked with fuzzy feelings and his snout against a cold window. That was a long time ago, where and whenever it was. Because Jr isn’t just a prick, he’s the entire cactus. 

Luckily, Jr doesn’t grace them with any more homicide motive and just looks quietly through the piles of camping supplies. Though he does scoff or sigh every thirty seconds or so. 

~~~

The trip to the SMP is relatively pleasant. Jr finds every excuse to identify plants and talk about the water cycle. Smug rolls off him like crumbling glaciers during the last younger driers. Or something (Michael isn’t an archeologist). Yogurt makes perfectly timed jokes, each leave Michael worried about getting to their destination without collapsing a lung. Shroud tries to do the same thing with various levels of success. Michael does his best to laugh politely. He doesn’t talk much, there are plenty of people trying to fill the silence. 

Shroud keeps shoving at him though. He’s overly touchy even as they take the final steps. Yogurt jumps along the path, showing off that fox's grace. Jr is Jr. In fact, Michael seems to be the only one giving this place the respect it deserves. 

There. The old portal. Everyone falls silent. Jr opens his mouth, probably to say something ‘smart’ but Michael shoots him a look.

The portal is a dark purple frame, gold, lapis, and emerald decorates the top in small splotches. Although the stone did a good job at keeping Mother Nature at bay, it’s still weathered. Over all, it is obvious no one had touched it in over a decade. Michael fumbles with the special flint and steel Phil gave him. He feels everyone’s eyes on him. He swallows, pushes up his glasses, takes a deep breath, and then lights the portal. 

He expected it to be brighter and less loud. The noise is like a growl, a growling groan with the very earth sighing. A dim purple sparkling and swirling. It isn’t too late to turn back. He glances over his shoulder, a nervous smile on his lips. Everyone seems properly solem now , but no looks of regret. Shit. He sighs. Nothing to do but go in. He steps to the side to let everyone else in first. Yogurt is the first, then Jr, Shroud grins with four thumbs up on his way in. Michael is last. He doesn’t have to go. He could turn and leave… and he takes another step towards the unknown behind the portal. His legs aren’t under his control. His breaths are short huffs and— And the portal smells like nothing. Feels like nothing. And he’s standing in a pine forest. 

“What took you so long?” Jr looks down at him from one step up, block, one block up. Michael rolls his eye and tries to ignore the deep panic. Although it is just a forest, he can make out a crumbling wall and more past that. The group is silent. It is eerie after so much life just five minutes ago. They walk through ruins, a map Phil provided is their only guide. Nothing stands as pristine as the portal. The sun rises to its crest. The group circles their route to settle at the unlit community portal. 

“So,” Yogurt says casually, “this will be homebase. Fun, right? Ok, so who wants to do what?” Everyone shrugs off their packs. 

“I want to visit the original Las Nevadas,” Jr says as if that is not only the correct answer to a subjective question, but also a god given right. Michael doesn’t want to go. He kinda wants to go home, but, as that is not an option, he’ll settle for Snowchester, and says so. 

Shroud volunteers to go with him, with that fucking weird ass smile, and Jr frowns so hard Michael wonders if it’ll permanently stick. Yogurt, with hands on their hips, rolls their eyes, ears flicking. “Alright, Jr and I can go to Las Nevadas because of heritage and stuff. And Mikey and Shroud can go to Snowchester.”

“Do not call me Mikey ever again.” 

“Then it is settled, see y’all before sunset.” Yogurt gives Jr a hard shove, then an arm yank, and the two are off. Michael watches for a long moment. Shroud tries to grab his hand. Michael shoves both hands in his pockets with a look. Shroud could have just asked him to hurry up. Prime. 

Notes:

Woo. Teens. A lot of them. So many I, no joke, have a table in my doc to keep track of them.

Chapter 2: Two: Chester is a name for a cat, not a communist state.

Summary:

Michael and Shroud build snowmen and visit the black building they pasted on the way. Nothing will go wrong.

Snowchester is cold. It is snowy, cold and miserable. And that doesn’t mention the creepy, dark building they had to pass just to get there. Michael sighs at the sight of a dilapidated mansion and a few scattered houses. Technically, this is home. Michael wipes his glasses, which got fogged up by the sigh. Technically, he doesn’t care. Shroud seems to be enjoying himself enough, though. 

The spider grabs snow by the handful, all six hands, and piles it in one area. He does it again and again. The grey sky turns more grey, clouds covering the sun. In Brickburg, where the _beloveds live now, that would mean rain. But Michael isn’t in Brickburg. He is in Snowchester, surrounded by trees and snow drifts and all manner of outdoor stuff. And the remnants of his first home. Michael swallows and can’t help but stare at a two story cottage. He shivers, though he barely feels the cold. “I think it’s going to snow,” Michael says, each word an uncertain original. 

Shroud looks back at him. The pile is something like a shape now. A very odd cone? “That would be awesome!” His grin is ear to ear. At least someone is having fun. “I love the snow! We need to get more of it, school gets cancelled, Dad loves it.” Next he murmurs “Something about old friends.” Then, at full volume, “Snow cones!” Michael’s lips press tighter on every word. Shroud lives a bit further out than he does. Shroud has a backyard and a dad that won’t burn in water. 

“I don’t like the snow.” Michael folds his arms just as the first flake lands on his dark hoodie. Great, even the universe mocks him. “It clogs up the streets and just makes a wet slurry mess.” Shroud blows a raspberry before switching to catching snowflakes on his tongue. The ground crunches under hoof as Michael seeks shelter. The mansion shouldn’t be too bad, he reasons. Foolish has always been a good builder. 

Although he didn’t mean to, he nearly rips the doors off their hinges. He cringes at the soft, brittle wood in his hands. Over a decade of snow was bad for everything, it seemed. I’m front of him are rotting floors covered in ice, snow, and long extinguished torches. A double staircase sits too far back. The ceiling is too high. Michael huffs and his breath catches in a patch of light, no doubt from a hole in the ceiling. No. He doesn’t actually want to be there. He’ll take his chances with the snow. 

He steps out, gingerly closing the door behind him, and is greeted by Shroud’s creation. The cone was not a cone, apparently, but a funky snowman. Shroud is near a tree, fascinated by the snow dripping of the leaves in chunks. He looks… almost peaceful.

“Dude,” says Michael, hoof prodding the disfigured snow person. Said spider dude whips around to face him. “Your snowman fucking sucks.” 

Shroud sputters and stomps. “No it isn’t- Doesn’t! It’s the best snowman ever. Besides, you can’t do better in over an hour! Bitch.” 

Michael raises an eyebrow at his pouting companion. A breeze passes through, making more snow fall from trees and the ‘hat’ of Shroud’s snowman wobble. Shroud stares at him, expectantly, several arms crossed. Michael huffs, it comes out more like a snort, and grabs some snow. He packs it tight into a ball, and, in an impressive show of self control, does not throw it at Shroud. Instead he crouches, letting the ball fall into the fresh, fluffy snow. Next he starts pushing the ball, just like his dad taught him. He doesn’t need to look up to know Shroud is hovering. Michael steps away from him, making it seem like he’s just rolling the ball to a new patch of snow. Shroud follows an inch behind. Even through his hoodie, Michael feels one of Shroud’s hands ghosting over his shoulder blade. 

“Dude.” Michael takes a larger step and rolls his shoulder. 

Shroud holds up his hands in defence. “I didn’t even touch you!” One set still in defence, the other set folded. “I’m just trying to see! It isn’t my fault you’re tall!” 

Michael grumbles something unintelligible even to himself, and continues his snowman. Shroud’s way too close for comfort the entire time. He finishes the bottom lopsided sphere and moves on to the next. Shroud’s next to him, looking offended. “You literally just did that. Why are you doing it again?” 

With a groan, Michael answers, “because that is how you make a snowman. You do it three times. Each smaller than the last.” Michael stands up suddenly from his snow pushing crouch. Shroud stumbles back, nearly landing ass first in the snow. “I’m sorry your dad doesn’t love you enough to teach you how to make a stupid snowman.” 

“My dad does love me! He fucking taught me! I just forgot.” Shroud continues to sputter and kicks at some snow. Michael rolls his eye and finished the next ball, then the next. Soon, him and Shroud tromp through the tree line to find suitable eyes, arms, and a mouth. Besides the occasional chirping comment from Shroud, the two don’t talk. Michael doesn’t particularly want to have a conversation with Shroud, but it is weird that he doesn’t anyway. Last year, and all the years before that, he, Shroud, and Yogurt were thick as thieves. They were always joking and laughing and just talking about anything and everything. Others would join in, mostly Michelle and sometimes Jr, but the trio was always together. 

Yet here Michael was, ignoring Shroud’s attempts at conversation and nowhere near Yogurt. He’d mucked everything up with Michelle yesterday, or the day before yesterday, something like that. Jr is still Jr, and everyone still would like him to shut up. Maybe some things don’t change. Shroud calls out, he’s found the perfect stones for eyes. Michael wanders back towards the mansion and snowmen, a fist full of arm adjacent sticks. 

After proudly waving the stones in Michael’s face, Shroud attempts to place them into the snowman’s head. Michael giggles as the stones fall off the face with Shroud’s puny push into the top snowball. The spider glares and snatched the stones from the frosted glass. Michael covers more giggles with his hand. He shifts his weight. Shroud  nearly pushes the snow person’s head off in a second attempt. Michael does his best not to laugh any harder than he already is. 

With each try, Shroud’s noises become increasingly incredulous and movements comical. Michael waits two minutes before snatching the rocks from him. “Here,” the piglin says, shoving the arm and smile sticks into Shroud’s now empty hands. “It’s getting painful to watch.” 

“Didn’t sound painful,” Shroud mutters. Michael grabs a little extra snow and packs it around the rocks to actually keep them in place. He glanced back to see Shroud shredding the bark off the little branches. “Sounded like you were laughing at me.” 

Shroud’s grumpy tone nearly renews Michael giggles. Instead, he blows a raspberry. “Oh come on.” He plucks the curved mouth stick from Shroud’s melancholy grip. “It can be both. Besides, it’s not like you don’t laugh at me all the time. Or we don’t laugh at Yogurt.” The mouth secured, he moves on to the arms. “We laugh at each other. It's a team friendship thing.” 

“Why are we team friendship,” Shroud asks, offended and missing the point. “That’s a stupid name!” 

Michael flops backward into the snow. Once again, Shroud is forced to scramble. The snow is light and the clouds are grey. “Not we are team friendship. Just we are a team, and we are friends.” 

Shroud’s face leans directly over Michael’s view. “You’ve lost me.” Michael rolls his eye and Shroud copies the action. They stare at each other for a moment, two moment, then burst out laughing. Shroud sits and then lays next to the piglin. Still to close for comfort, but Michael doesn’t care that much. At least Shroud is warm. 

The snow continues it’s light dusting. Michael glances at Shroud. All of his spider eyes are closed. His hair cut, black, shaggy, dyed red at tips, covers half his eyes anyway. Michael props himself on his elbow to better take in Shroud. It hasn’t been that long since Michael last saw him, but it has been a while since he cared to look closely at his friend. There is a scar over his nose, faint, but there. Michael has never seen it before. Shroud looks older. It isn’t just the scar (that he probably got while doing something stupid), he’s just older. Less child softness to his features. 

The snow falls harder, and Michael shoves Shroud awake. Shroud sputters, curses dripping from his lips half formed and weightless, but gets up anyway. 

“So, now what,” Shroud asks, shaking the last of the snow off his yellow sweater. 

Michael runs his tongue over his teeth while he thinks. He’s done with Snowchester. Just point blank, full stop. He’s done with Snowchester. Eyeing Shroud, who is back to nearly vibrating with energy, Michael makes the educated guess that he isn’t done exploring. What did they pass on the way here? What was on the way back to camp? There was a big black building. It was… probably fine. 

“Let’s start heading back, and we can stop by the weird black building.” Michael pauses. “Just peek in, see if it’s worth it. You know, plan for us all to explore tomorrow?” 

Shroud lifts a brow, but nods. “Yeah. Quick look on the way back. Sounds great.” The spider stands still for three more seconds before dashing away from the mansion. “Last one there is a rotten egg,” he calls over his shoulder. 

Michael breaks into a light sprint behind him. As he reaches the edge of the snow, he slows, turns to face Snowchester, and purses his lips. It wasn’t home. But it was something. 

~~~

The black building is large, but less intimidating than expected. Sure, there are bars and lava, but the bars are rusted and the lava is mostly cobblestone. Like most things in the area, plants have made their home in every possible crack. Sand is piled high on one side, which makes much easier access for the boys. They scamper up to the wall, Michael still chasing Shroud. He wouldn’t call himself athletic, but Michael has done pretty well in cross country. 

On the other hand, Shroud sounds like a dying hot air balloon. The spider leans against the wall, head pushes against the dark blocks, and heaves air through his mouth. Michael places a stiff hand on his shoulder blades and rubs uneven circles. The last thing anyone needs is for Shroud to pass out or throw up. Michael wasn’t exactly sure the action would help, but it was something that ram dad did when Michael felt queasy. 

After another minute of gasps, Shroud’s breathing evens out. And he pops right back up and away from the wall, a huge grin throwing Michael off kilter. If he was the one dying a second ago, Michael was sure he would not be vibrating excitedly ten seconds later. Michael takes two steps back, shakes his head to remove his bewildered glare, and readjusts his glasses. 

“Whatcha waiting for,” Shroud teases with a giggle. “We’re losing daylight!” 

And, just like that, Shroud slips through one of the larger gaps and disappears into the shadows beyond. For a split second, Michael considers leaving. Maybe even finding a way to block up the ‘entrance.’ The thought parishes before it forms fully. Michael stares into the darkness. It isn’t pitch black, there is a slight glow to the left (where Shroud headed.) Michael takes a breath, steeles what courage exists in his decayed body, and presses into the crack. 

The large crack Shrouds easily slid through is a tight squeeze for the taller and wider Michael. While Michael is skinny, he still has broad shoulders. Piglin genetics and all that. He cringes at each scrape he can feel through his hoodie. Less than a week into summer and his favourite jacket may be ruined. The stone is rough against his palms. He wrinkles his snout, not in disgust, but to keep it from touching the wall. Thankfully, the tunnel isn’t long and he’s dropped into a corridor after three or four metres. 

“Jeeze,” Michael says to the darkness, rapidly blinking to help his eye adjust. Or something. “Who needs that thick of walls? What is this place? A prison?” He laughs to himself, shaking his head. Who would build a giant prison for a smp of less than one hundred? Michael snorts and heads left. Hopefully, Shroud is out of energy again, Michael can drag him to camp without too much whining. 

The zombie piglin wanders in the direction of the faint glow, stretching as he goes. He gets a few satisfying pops out of it, so that’s something. His hooves click against the dark floor, the sound echoes against the too tall walls. What was this building? Even as Micheal hurries through the corridor, he notices that the plants have made a home here too. Vines thicken into a carpet. Then roots mangle the ground. Michael crawls over a particularly gnarled root. Branch? The light is stronger here, and Michael is plenty familiar with the source; Shroom lights. Warped fungus pulses gently. Michael wrinkles his nose. Whatever. Just find Shroud, yell at him for making Michael walk for Prime knows how long alone, and drag him back to camp. Good plan. 

The roots and stems are too thick and dim to spot a dark spider, yellow jumper or not. Instead, Michael closes his eyes and listens. There, movement. A lot of movement. Getting louder. And in his direction. Michael’s eyes snap open in time to see Shroud vault a root, then another, and slam into Michael. 

Shroud pulls Michael to his feet before Michael registers he isn’t standing. Or maybe he is standing and Shroud is just pulling him forward. Regardless, the collision left Michael literally breathless, and he stumbles more than runs, Shroud still yanking. Their footsteps ring as the vines turn back into stone. They are near the entrance crack when Michael gets enough air to do anything but gasp. With this new air, he does what anyone would do in this situation. 

“Shroud, what the actual Fuck.” It lacks the force Michael wants. Probably because Michael is still heaving, and his arms wrap protectively over his throbbing ribs. Who knew a spider could have such a hard head? 

“Escape now. Questions later,” Shroud says, equally out of breath. Half of his eyes almost glow in the darkness. The sliver of light from the crack highlights the other side of his face. Half black, half grey. Glowing eyes. Empty eyes. The spider stares past Michael, who twists to spot the danger. He doesn’t see anything, but Shroud has better night vision and is shoving Shroud at the wall so maybe he’ll go along with this. It’s still a tight squeeze, the adrenaline making the tunnel shorter and more claustrophobic. 

Michael tumbles out, the sand slipping from his feet and unceremoniously rolling him down to grass. Shroud is out a second later, running down the dune rather than becoming one with the worst texture to exist. Michael lays on his side until Shroud reaches the base. The pair stare at the crack. Waiting for… something to happen? A monster to break through the wall and devore them? Michael pushes himself into the sitting position, sand running out his back and falling from his hair. Shroud stands stark still. Very unnatural. 

Nothing moves but sand as Michael attempts to shake, wipe, and pat the irritating grains off of his person. The sky deepens into red and pinks. Michael stands. And slaps Shroud in the shoulder a little harder than he meant to. The spider hisses, but Michael is beyond done with him at this point. “What the hell was that, Shroud?!”

“There was– something moved.” Shroud shrinks back. Even takes a step back. Good. Michael is pissed. 

“Something moved? You got spooked by a damn squirrel and decided to book it like a freakin’ murder was after you?!” Michael pinches the top of his snout. “Really. God. Prime.” 

“No,” Shroud squeaks out. “It was a lot bigger than a squirrel. I swear. It was a person. There was a person in there!” 

“So, Jr and Yogurt decided to take a tour of the weird building too. Big deal.” Michael turns and stops off in the direction of camp. He hears Shroud trying to keep up. Michael speeds up. 

“It wasn’t fucking Yogurt or Jr. I’m not fucking with you! It was someone in green! They were crouched over and then turned to face me when I broke a twig on accident! I swear.” Shroud sprints in front of Michael, where did he get these random bursts of energy, and holds up his arms. Michael indulges him, stopping and meeting Shroud’s desperate eyes with his own glare. And, no, he doesn’t feel the tiniest bit bad about Shroud’s frantic state. He doesn’t regret storming off and being mean. Maybe he doesn’t look Shroud in the eye. “Whoever it was didn’t have a face.” Michael’s full attention snaps to Shroud’s face, finding no hint of lie or joke. “I swear to Prime–” Shroud draws an X over his heart– “It didn’t have a fucking face.” 

The pair stands in silence. The sun dips further. “No one is supposed to be here,” whispers Michael. Shroud nods, looking as queasy as Michael feels. “We– We need to tell Yogurt. They’ll know what to do.” 

Shroud nods again. The spider swallows. “To camp, I guess.” 

Michael nods, more sand falling loose.

Notes:

So, fun fact: This was always meant to be a webcomic except I am lazy. As I write, I see the panels in my head. Mocking me. Maybe I'll draw some scenes. Probably not.
I love being a writer and an visual artist. I suffer creatively twice. :D

Chapter 3: So long

I'm sorry. I'm never going to finish this, But I don't want to just let this fall into just another wreck. I actually have so much I made. I was so excited. So this chapter is the last of my writing, the next is the incorrect quotes that started this all, and the last chapter is the art I made. This fic all started with the idea of "What about the dsmp kids? What is their story?" I put a lot of their names in an incorrect quote generator, tweaked the results, and drew up some character designs. I'd put the quotes in this chapter but its a lot. Originally, I was very inspired by the webcomics I was seeing on insta and wanted to make this story into one of those. Obviously, that didn't happen. I was new to digital art and sort of got overwhelmed and the imposter syndrome hit hard. I didn't think I was good enough and spent a shit ton of time developing an art style I kinda hate now and never use. You will see that in the drawings. I'm actually developing carpal tunnel now lol. Thats greatly impacted my ability to draw and write. Writing this kinda hurts, like gently pressing on a bruise kinda, and my wrist never stops aching. That plus college and mental health and a complete loss of... lets say trust in the fandom lead me to basically abandon a lot of my stuff. I don't know what the future holds, but I hate leaving fics unfinished, and I hate letting people down. I was so excited for this whole project and it just died.

 

Summary

Right after the egg shit is dealt with, the SMP decides that enough is enough and basically dips. Like three people are worried about Dream but the rest are like “Eh, prison is pretty automated, I'm sure he’ll be fine.” Narrator voice: He was not, in fact, fine. Dream’s an immortal and can’t be killed by normal means. Which means he gets desperate enough to swim for freedom. But he is still trapped in the prison. Wilbur’s train station but make it prison purgatory. He grows food in the courtyard. Eventually the world decays to the point he can escape. The kids grow up. Yogurt (few months under Michael 17) they/them, Michael (oldest 17), Michelle (a month under Micheal 17), Shroud (16), Jr (16 almost 17), Finley (15), Ketchup (14 just turned)(who is a _Beloved bc of that one clip), Clementine the moth hybrid (12) Fae/Faer. 

The kids rebel and go to the Dsmp. Phil tells them where it is and to be safe. He thinks Dream is Dead. Dream is not dead. “Wtf are these kids coming in here?” 

Dream still calls himself Dream but also all the kids are like “nah, he’s, like, twenty. He can’t be the evil guy.” And Dream tries to explain but they don’t believe him. Now he has a gaggle of Teenagers to deal with. He is very tired but lonely. 

Tommy comes to retrieve Shroud only to see Dream tiredly explaining why Tommy and him are enemies. Shroud doesn’t believe him. Tommy is confused but decides to go along with his child. And insists he has never met anyone named Dream. 

Dream is so unsure of his own mind he starts to wonder if he hallucinated the entire Dsmp and all the people. Techno comes and helps with the gaslighting. Then Wilbur, and Philza, and Tubbo. Ranboo genuinely does not remember. It gets really bad and Dream breaks down. Doesn’t let anyone know.  

But they don’t let up. And Dream second guesses everything. The Teens genuinely know nothing more than “Dream smp is where our parents used to live and bad stuff happened.” 

Eventually they get Quackity involved. And that’s when it gets really bad. Because Dream thinks he is just crazy and is shitty for fabricating memories of Quackity torturing him. And then Quackity goes back to his old habits but bc of potions Dream is further gaslit. Anyway, that is how the minors now adults learn that Dream was tortured in prison. And now have to choose whether to come clean about the gaslighting, or keep it up. Bc Dream is very broken but obviously not a better person. He just thinks he’s a whole new kind of crazy. 

 

---

Characters 

Name	Personality	Important things to keep track of.
Michael	Awkwardly trying his best, weak willed, low self esteem.	Right side is the skull. Lanky yet strong (piglin trait) Doesn’t wear pants but does wear long sleeves. Phil’s eyeline is his snout. No piercings. Glasses.  He/him 17 oldest
Yogurt	Disenfranchised. They’re the ‘cool kid’ that is actually really struggling. Fundy is so scared of being his father that he’s always home but never interacts.	Arctic fox. Purple eyes, claws, piercing on the right side. Shorter than Michael but most are ears and hair. Light and dark grey. Fluffy. Don't wear clothes bc they don’t feel like it. 17 three months younger
Michelle	Popular kid that is nice but has a bad temper. Loves little kids, hates bullshit. Skipped a grade.	Used to be best friends with Michael. Left side is the skull. Three ear piercings with gold hoop earrings.Wears shirts and the occasional skirt. The same height as Michael. 16 a month younger than Jr.
Foolish Jr. (Jr or Junior)	Full of himself know it all. Tries to talk over people. No one particularly likes him.	About the same height as Michael, they argue over it. Gold totem. Green theme. Lots of jewellery. Over one shoulder toga. 16, seventeen in one month.
Shroud	Wants to be the cool kid but is trying way too hard. Thinks Michael and Yogurt are the coolest shit. Has a not so subtle crush on Michael.	Short, only reaches Michael’s shoulders bc of hair. Stout spider. Eight eyes, six limbs, can climb on walls. Yellow sweater and blue shorts. Unsettling to most. He is bullied but doesn’t actually know that is what it is. 16 and a few months.
Finley	Totally over everyone’s bullshit. Just want to sit and read. Not rude but very short w/ ppl.	Pony tail. Same idea as her brother except blue theme and toga over both shoulders. Comes up to Michael’s snout. Little shorter than Phil. She is only particularly nice to the two youngest.  15.
Ketchup	A little odd. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t usually make much sense when talking. Michael loves her a lot.	Small and short, comes up to yogurt’s chest. Also doesn’t wear clothes but has some scarves. Orange fox. Yogurt also loves her lots. 14, just turned.
Clementine	A soft spoken moth hybrid that is more and more insane as you talk to faer.  Fae/Faer/Faers/Faerself	The youngest and shortest. Very delicate looking. Can fly. First time at the ranch as fae were adopted while Shroud was at the ranch last year. Antene. Soft looking. 12, almost thirteen. (will turn thirteen at the ranch.)

---

Chapters

• Michael arriving at the farm, introduction of characters. 
• Dinner
• Some farm chores
• Shroud proposes the idea of the SMP, Michael is against it. 
• Shroud comes back with Jr and Yogurt agreeing they should go. 
• Michael has to ask Phil bc Phil ‘likes him best’ 
• They plan a scouting exposition (Shroud: no girls allowed. Michael: That is stupid and sexist. Yogurt: Does genderqueer count? Shroud: Are you a girl? Yogurt: No. Shroud: Then you can come.) 
• They head out and hit the SMP. 
• Split into groups of two: Jr and Yogurt (old las nevadas). Shroud and Michael. 
• Michael and Shroud explore Snowchester. Michael has a flashback, his stuff is there. 
• They head to the prison next. In through a tight crack (Michael: Didn’t your dad die here once? Shroud: First I’m hearing of it.) 
• Explore with flashlights. Creepy, dilapidated, hot. They find the overgrown courtyard and poke around. 
• Boom. Dream. 
• What the FUUUUUCKKKK. They run from Dream, he doesn’t bother chasing them. 
• They get lost and because of the echo they think he’s coming after them. 
• Once they get out the sun is starting to set. 
• They meet the others at the last of the community house. 
• No one really believes them. 
• They sleep in the community house. 
• Dream is there when they wake up. 
• Michael freaks and wakes everyone. 
• Dream introduces himself. No one really gets it. (Dream: I am Dream of the Dream smp. The teens: That is stupid, no you aren’t. Dream: :’/) 
• They have breakfast and keep telling Dream that the SMP is not named after him, he probably named himself after the smp. (Jr: You are like 20, you could not have founded the smp at 3 years old. Dream: I am immortal. Everyone: Yeah, sure. How long have you been here by yourself?) 
• Dream tries to threaten them. Only Michael takes him anywhere close to seriously, but Shroud’s teasing is infectious and Michael is glad to be on the other side of bullying for a change. 
• They all explore more and Dream tries to further convince them. They aren’t having it. They go to places and Dream tries to explain the names and history. They think he’s making it up. 
• They told Phil they were staying the night in the woods so they had to go. 
• Dream is kinda on the forgetful side anyway but he ‘suddenly’ remembers Phil. The kids are unimpressed bc Phil is old and easy to get right if you have heard about him ever. 
• They leave the smp thinking “wow, what a weirdo.” 
• They come back just before dinner. 
• Phil asks about their trip, everyone does that awkward ‘damn, we should have thought of a cover story’ thing. 
• Michelle is her papa’s daughter and knows something is off. (so does phil but he already knows they went to the SMP and doesn’t care.) 
• Shroud keeps trying to talk to Michael abouthis father’s ‘death’, Michael keeps ignoring him. 
• Michelle corners him and Michael is very weak willed when it comes to her. He admits everything. 
• Michelle makes Michael take her to the SMP. Shroud tags along, fighting the entire time. 
• Dream is nowhere to be seen for a while. She finds her mom’s old house and tells Michael rediscovering their past isn’t a bad thing. 
• Dream is hanging by the community portal. Michelle also doesn’t believe him. 
• Dream tries to prove it again. Michelle is still not into it. She gets pissed when he mentions Puffy. 
• Michelle has punched Dream for mentioning Puffy like he has. 
• He is also extremely upset as he thought that was his papa but also he is questioning so much.
• He apologises and cries. Everyone is uncomfortable because an adult is crying. Shroud and Michael are the only two with any experience in crying adults. 
• Everyone leaves but the two + Dream.
• Michael doesn’t help but he stands by while Shroud does. 
• Dream pearls away.
• Shroud and Michael have a conversation about Dream. 
• What should they do? Shroud says they should maybe let up on the guy, he obviously has been through a lot. 
• Michael agrees but doesn’t want to just go along with his delusions, (that he is starting to not think are delusions) 
• They agree to just do whatever Yogurt wants to do. 
• They end up back in snowchester. 
• Michael takes a random chicken and shroud copies him. 
• That's where the others find them.
• They ask Yogurt. 
• Yogurt just wants to continue what they have been doing since “He’s an adult; if he is who he says he is, he deserves it, and if he isn’t, we shouldn’t let him lie.” 
• Shroud and Michael are kinda not on board. 
• While on the way back to the house, Michelle is still pissed. 
• Michael avoids her but feels bad about it. 
• They make it back, ‘sneak in’ and Phil confronts Michael on it. 
• “Why is it always me? Go interrogate literally anyone else!” “Yeah, no chance, mate. All I’ve got to do is look at you for long enough.” *Pause* “WE WENT TO THE SMP AGAIN! ARE YOU HAPPY?” “Ecstatic.” 
• This is where Phil calls Tommy, Wilbur, and Techno, but Micheal doesn’t know that.
• The next day Ketchup and Clem want to come.  
• Micheal is not about that at all. They are Too Young. Just in case. 
• He is very quickly overruled. 
• Michael runs ahead to threaten/warn Dream about the incoming children. 
• Dream is very: How the fuck many of you are there???
• He agrees to be on best behaviour, which surprises Michael (he doesn’t realise how scary/intimidating he can be.) 
• Everyone comes and Dream is surprisingly quiet and polite. 
• Yogurt is very much mean to him. 
• Tommy shows up when Dream is talking to shroud. 
• Dream: I swear. I killed your father in cold blood. Shroud: Idk man, he seems pretty alive. Dream: I brought him back to life. Shroud: wow, convenient. Dream: … Shroud: Pics or it didn’t happen. Dream: I made a promise not to kill any more teenagers. Shroud: Coward. Tommy, to himself, slightly horrified: That’s my boy. 
• Tommy adds to the gaslight. He’s never seen Dream before in his life. He’s definitely never died. Dream, quietly, “maybe I am crazy” 
• Tommy bullshits a bunch of history for the DSMP. Dream is losing his mind. 
• Michael knows that several things he says are lies (he knows Tommy died and came back. He’s been told lots of smp stories.) He says nothing.

---

Chapter Ugh: I don’t want to write the middle bit. 

“What?” Shroud stares at the odd man with an expression that is both disbelieving and offence. Michael has to bite back his giggles. 

The man, Dream, groans again. “Your dad.” Shroud stares blankly. “Tommy Innit.” Dream pauses for? Something. He presses on after not receiving whatever he wanted. “He has a white streak in his hair. That is because he died.” Dream waves his hands around like that would make the insanity more palletable. 

“My dad isn’t dead. He’s at home.” Dream looks like he’s ready to explode. Shroud puts a finger to his own mouth as his brow furrows. “Actually, he’d be at work right now. Dad does movies.” 

---

Chapter 4: farewell

The quotes lol.

 

Michael : Yo is Shroud sleeping or dead? 

Jr: Hopefully dead, I hated their guts.

Yogurt: Yeah, so did I. 

Shroud: Okay first of all, fuck you-

 

[The group is a prison cell that was just hit by an earthquake] 

Michael : Uh, I'm gonna roll a perception check of... 4, and see if our cell is, uh, in any way damaged by this quake 

Dream: You're in a prison cell :) 

Yogurt: You did great. Well, I got a 10- 

Dream: You're in a prison cell with bars on it :3 

Shroud: I got a 1! 

Dream: You're in... a cube-shaped place.

 

Michael : I think Michelle was right. 

Jr: I'm surprised they haven't marched in here to say 'I told you so.'

Yogurt: They wouldn't do that. 

Michelle: You're right, Yogurt. For once in your life, you're 100% right. I would never say that. 

Michelle: *turns around, the shirt they're wearing says 'Michelle Told You So' on the back*

 

Michael : Tonight, one of you will betray us.

Jr: Is it me, Michael ?

Michael : No, it’s not you.

Yogurt: Is it me, Michael ?

Michael : It’s not you either.

Shroud: Is it me, Michael ?

Michael :

Michael , mockingly: Is IT mE Michael ?

 

Michael : You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of nachos.

Jr: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard.

Yogurt: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any nachos?

Shroud: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.

 

Jr, banging on the door: Michael! Open up!

Michael: Well, it all started when I was a kid...

Yogurt: No, they meant-

Shroud: Let them finish.

 

Michael : Wake me up… 

Ketchup: Before you go go! 

Yogurt: When September ends… 

Shroud: WAKE ME UP INSIDE-

 

Michael: Isn’t it weird that we pay money to see other people? 

Jr: Plane tickets? 

Yogurt: Concert tickets? 

Shroud: Prostitution? 

Michael, holding their broken frames: Glasses.

(fun fact: as youll see with the drawings, Michael didn't originally have glasses)

 

Shroud: I just ended a four year relationship.

Yogurt: Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?

Shroud: Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t my relationship. 

*Tubbo and Ranboo fighting across the room* 

 

Shroud: Truth or dare? 

Yogurt: Dare 

Shroud: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room 

Yogurt: Hey Jr 

Jr, blushing: Yeah? 

Yogurt: Could you move? I’m trying to get to Michael

 

Shroud: If you had to choose between Michael and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose? 

Jr: That depends, how much money are we talking about? 

Michael: Jr! 

Shroud: 63 cents. 

Jr: I'll take the money. 

Michael: JR!!!

 

Dream, negotiating with Michael: We have Jr. Give us ten thousand dollars and they will be returned to you unharmed

Jr: Whoa, whoa, wait, you think I’m only worth ten thousand dollars?

Shroud:

Jr: MAKE IT ONE MILLION–

Shroud: JR STOP

 

Shroud, to Michael: My life is in the hands of an idiot!

Michael, motioning to themself and Jr: No no no no no, TWO idiots!

 

Shroud: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?

Michael: *turning to Jr* How tall are you?

 

Shroud: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

Michael: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

Shroud: Yes!

Jr: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

 

Shroud: *Accidentally hits Michael in the face*

Shroud: *Trying to decide between saying 'I’m fucking sorry' and 'Are you okay'*

Shroud: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?!

Jr: What’s wrong with you?!

 

Michael: Okay, truth or dare?

Shroud: Truth

Michael: How many hours have you slept this week?

Shroud:

Shroud: ...Dare

Michael: Go to bed.

Shroud: I don’t like this game.

 

Shroud: What if the 'g' in 'gif' is silent? 

Michael: Go the fuck to sleep 

Shroud: What gif I don't want to? 

Michael: Fuck You

 

Yogurt: Here's some advice

Shroud: I didn't ask for any

Yogurt: Too bad. I'm stuck here with my thoughts and you're the only one who talks to me

 

Jr: *holding a bottle* Is this whiskey or perfume? 

Yogurt: *chugs entire bottle* 

Yogurt: It’s perfume.

 

Phil, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something.

Yogurt: I saw a squirrel in a tree today. So I ate it.

Shroud, with the tone of someone who is used to Yogurt: Outstanding.

 

Yogurt: Finley, keep an eye on Jr today. They're going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.

Finley: Sure, I’d love to see Jr get punched.

Yogurt: Try again.

Finley, sighing: I will stop Jr from getting punched.

 

Yogurt: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 million gold? 

Shroud: You stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house. 

Michael: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 million. 

Shroud: Good thinking.

 

Yogurt: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life 

Shroud: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind? 

Yogurt: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die. 

Jr: edible

 

Yogurt: Shroud, what do IDK, LY, and TTYL mean?

Shroud: I don’t know, love you, talk to you later

Yogurt: Ok, you're my best friend too, I’ll just ask Michael.

 

Yogurt: While I’m gone, Shroud, you’re in charge.

Shroud: Yes!!!

Yogurt, whispering: Michael, you’re secretly in charge.

Michael: Obviously.

 

Yogurt: In my defense, I was left unsupervised. 

Michael: Wasn't Shroud with you? 

Shroud: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

 

Ranboo: Bridge the generation gap by combining old and new slang into one! 

Shroud: Tubular AF! 

Michael: Mood to the max! 

Jr, annoyed: Groovy, I hate it. 

Yogurt: If she breathes, she’s a square.

 

Ranboo: You're a loose cannon, Shroud. 

Shroud: No, I'm not. I'm a cannon maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me? 

Michael: I think you play by your own rules. 

Jr: No way, they think rules were made to be broken. 

Ranboo: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon. 

Shroud: No, I'm just a reckless renegade. Yogurt is a loose cannon. 

Yogurt: *smashes a chair*

 

Ranboo: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life 

Shroud: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years! 

Michael: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this!

Jr: I knew I lost that potential somewhere! 

Yogurt: My moral code, is that you? 

Ranboo: 

Ranboo: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk techno left me but do you guys need a hug?

 

Finley: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?

Shroud: Several traffic violations.

Michael: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Jr: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.

Yogurt: Also, that’s not our car.

 

Jr: I’m an idiot.

Shroud:

Michael:

Yogurt:

Ranboo:

Shroud: If you’re waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.

 

Yogurt: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses. 

Shroud: This knife is actually a magic wand. 

Michael: Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot for a wizard duel. 

Michelle: *cocks gun* Magic missile.

 

Shroud: Goodnight moon.

Shroud: Goodnight tree.

Shroud: Goodnight ghosts that only I can see.

Tommy: *concern* 

 

Shroud: Okay okay stop asking me if I'm straight, gay, bi, whatever. I identify as a FUCKING THREAT.

 

Michelle: If you can’t beat them, dress better than them

 

Michael: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

 

Yogurt: I’m sick and tired of being called 'mortal' like, you don’t know that. Neither do I. I have never died even ONCE. Nothing has been proven yet. Stop making assumptions. It’s rude.

 

Shroud, after biting a new friend: Well, well, well... if it isn’t my old friend; the dawning realization that I fucked up bad.

 

Jr: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.

 

Yogurt: You think I really give a fuck? I can’t even read.

 

Michael: Some of you may die, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.

 

Jr: If I'm really as evil as you say I am, then have the gods strike me down where I stand.

*Lightning strikes Jr*

Jr: Ha! Nice try, jackass! Next time, give it your A-game!

DreamXD: :/

 

Michael: You can de-escalate any situation by simply saying, 'Are we about to kiss?'

Shroud: Doesn't work for getting out of speeding tickets, by the way.

 

yogurt: I’m going to defeat you with the power of friendship! ... And this knife I found. 

 

Jr: Pals' night, done right, is about bonding. Sharing problems, origin stories, secrets. 

Michael: I'll start. I worked my way through school as a phone sex operator. 1-800-DJFeelGood. 

Shroud : I would totally call that. Um... I used to steal cars. Okay, who's next? 

Yogurt: I was forged in the bowels of Hell to torture the guilty for all of eternity. 

Dream:

Jr: Interesting share.

 

Finley: What is my responsibility here? To comfort insecure heterosexual men? That can't possibly fall to me.

 

Michael: Shroud , we're hungry! 

Jr : Shroud ! What's for dinner? 

Yogurt: We're hungry, Shroud ! 

Shroud , frying a bottle of ketchup over the stove: *screams*

 

Jr : We need to distract these guys. 

Yogurt: Leave it to me. 

Yogurt: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. 

Shroud & Michael: *immediately begin arguing*

 

Phil: Who wants to go out of the country on a road trip? 

Yogurt: Yea, I could drink legally! 

Shroud : I could hang out with the boys! 

Jr: I could hide from the consequences of my actions.

 

Shroud & Michael in the back of a car: MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! 

Ranboo: We have food at home. 

Tubbo: *pulls into the McDonald's drivethrough* 

Shroud & Michael: YAYYYYYY! 

Tubbo: *orders one black coffee and leaves*

 

Shroud , texting in the group chat: I wonder what Apple shots would look like? 

Yogurt: *Sends a picture of of a syringe with an apple slice shoddily edited inside* 

Jr : *Sends a picture of a shot glass with an Apple poorly drawn inside* 

Michael: *Sends picture of person dunking a Basketball into the hoop but replaced the basketball with a poorly resized apple* 

Shroud : I hate all of you.

 

Yogurt : Do you love Michael ? 

Shroud: Yeah, I do. 

Yogurt : Michelle! I told you I knew it! You owe me 100 bucks! 

Michelle: We all love Michael . You should've asked if they were IN love with them. 

Shroud: I thought that was implied. 

Yogurt: ... 

Michelle : ... 

Shroud, looking straight at Michelle: Congrats Yogurt, you just won 100 bucks.

 

Michael: *tapping fingers on table* 

Shroud : *taps fingers back furiously* 

Jr : …What’s going on? 

Yogurt: Morse code. They’re talking. 

Michael: -.-- ..- .-. / - …. . / -.-. ..- - . … - 

Shroud : *slams hands on table* YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

 

Shroud , watching Dream & Yogurt panic : What's going on? 

Michael: Dream is having a midlife crisis and Yogurt is just having a crisis.

 

Shroud : *Gasp* 

Jr : wHAT?? 

Shroud : What if soy milk is just milk introducing itself in Spanish? 

Jr : *inhales* 

Michael, in another room with Yogurt: Why can I hear screeching?

 

Shroud : What’s your biggest fear? 

Jr : That I’ll never be good enough for anyone. 

Yogurt: Everyone hates me and talks about me behind my back. 

Michael: Zombies. 

Jr : ... 

Yogurt: ... 

Michael: BUT they can open doors.

Shroud: you are??? 

 

Jr : Michael is taking credit for Yogurt's work, getting them to deal with everything, and making fun of them! You know what they sounds like?  

Shroud : You? 

Jr : No, I meant... You know Yogurt. In spite of being clever and sarcastic they’re also... fragile and weird and they have trouble fitting in. And Michael is taking advantage of their weakness! You know what that’s called? 

Shroud : A Jr ? 

Jr : ...Yeah, but I’m the only one who should be allowed to do that, okay?!

 

Shroud : *about Jr and Michael* They make a cute couple, huh? 

Yogurt: They certainly are standing next to each other.

 

Shroud : I just want someone to take me out.

Yogurt: On a date? 

Jr : With a sniper gun? 

Michael: Both if you're not a coward.

 

Jr: My stomach growled super loud in French. 

Jr: I would like to clarify, my stomach did not speak in French. It growled during French class. 

Shroud : Bonjour. 

Yogurt: Le growl. 

Michael: Hon hon hon, feed me a baguette.

 

*Michelle's helping Michael out after they get injured, while the others are watching*

Yogurt: How does Michael look?

Finley: A little better than you, actually.

 

Michelle: *Trying to fill out legal paperwork stuff* Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB?

Michael: Bold of you to assume I was born at all.

Yogurt: I personally was created in a lab.

Finley: I just straight up spawned lol.

 

Michael: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no clue what to put in them. Suggestions?

Shroud: Put spaghetti in it.

Michael: I'm currently taking suggestions from literally anyone but you.

Yogurt: Put spaghetti in it.

Michael: I'm currently taking suggestions from anyone but you two.

Finley: Put spaghetti in it.

Michael: I'm no longer taking suggestions.

 

Michelle: Rules are made to be broken. 

Michael: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. 

Yogurt: Uh, piñatas. 

Finley: Glow sticks. 

Jr: Karate boards. 

Shroud: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. 

Michelle: Rules. 

Michael:

 

Michelle: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous. 

Michael: What if it bites me and it dies!? 

Yogurt: Then you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, Michael, learn to listen. 

Finley: What if it bites itself and I die? 

Jr: That’s voodoo. 

Shroud: What if it bites me and someone else dies? 

Michael: That’s correlation, not causation. 

Finley: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die? 

Jr: That’s kinky. 

Michelle: Oh my God.

 

Michelle: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? 

Michael: >:O language 

Yogurt: Yeah watch your fucking language 

Finley: OKAY WHO TAUGHT YOGURT THE FUCK WORD? 

Jr: 'The fuck word'. 

Shroud: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time 

Yogurt: Oh my god they censored it 

Jr: Say fuck, Shroud. 

Yogurt: Do it, Shroud. Say fuck.

 

Shroud: Michael, I'm sad.

Michael: *Holds out arms for a hug* It’s going to be okay.

Yogurt: Dream, I'm sad.

Dream, nodding: mood.

 

Philza: Dammit, Shroud!

Shroud: What?! It wasn’t me!

Philza: Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Yogurt!

Yogurt: Not me either.

Yogurt: Oh...Then who set the house on fire?

Tommy: *whistles*

 

*Shroud is cooking*

Michael: Any chance that’s for me?

Shroud: It’s for Dream. I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need them on my side.

Yogurt: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment.

 

Jr: Why are you on the floor?

Michelle: I'm depressed.

Michelle: Also I was stabbed, can you get Finley, please.

 

Jr: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?

Michelle: How am I supposed to know?

Finley: You say, as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.

Michelle: *sighs*

Michelle: You wouldn't be trapped.

 

Jr, in a high voice, holding barbie: hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!

Michelle, in a deep voice, holding ken: nonsense, barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids

Foolish: what the fuck are you guys doing?

Jr: playing systemic oppression

Chapter 5: Aufwiedersehn, goodbye

this was the first full lineup I did of all the kids. I did it on "my paint" and hated it. Ketchup's outfit makes me angry and I wish I did not do that. That dress is so awful.

This was a test on a new art program, I used to just draw shroud a lot. he was my silly little guy. I don't remember what program

This was a test on FireAlpaca I believe. I still use this program a lot.


I believe this was the first time I actually drew Michael and Jr. that also might be my original Shroud sketch as well. You can see how rough everything is.


You can see where I drew glasses on Michael later. Why did I do that? That was so stupid.


Look at the little Yogurt. Look at the wittle babey


This remains one of my favourite images I drew for the AU. Absolutely obsessed.


Idk. I drew a lot of the incorrect quotes.


This was before I added Ketchup and Clementine. And another piece were I drew glasses over Michael. They look so baddddd


Just Jr. Working on his design.


This is where I figured out Clem. Ignore the racoon.


This was my first Ketchup design. This is fine. Why did I change it?


This was much later on when I was actually trying to do exciting and dynamic poses. Ha. Why isn't Michael holding Shrouds legs??? Also Look at clem. Look at Faer.

 

See! I promise I had plans for a comic! Lol. This is shroud and Michael in the prison.

And this is where I decided to draw it out. yeah.

The worst part of all of this is I know I had a lot more art. I just deleted it or can't fine it. I'm sorry for that.
And I am sorry that I am ending this fic this way. But I feel like its a little nicer than just leaving it to rot.

Notes:

I have no clue if I will finish this. But it’s been half planned out and sitting in my draft doc for a long while.

I don’t know.

I basically made the Kids OCs and I love them.