Poplar St. (OFFICIAL WATTPAD UPLOAD)

Snap Decisions

"HOLY SHIT!" Quackity yelped.

Fire, bright pink fire, exploded out of the windows of the shack, blasting the door clean off its hinges. Hot glass shards pelted them like rain, and Quackity flattened himself against the ground, wrapping his wings around himself.

Pain sliced through him, and he cried out.

"TUBBO!" Ranboo shrieked.

Quackity slowly rose back to his knees, eyes widening with horror.

The shack was in smithereens, the standing walls burning blue from the intense heat, and suddenly he was standing in front of the gates of El Rapids again, watching the city burn.

"Oh god," Quackity croaked.

Somehow, this was his fault.

He didn't know how, he didn't know why. He just knew.

"SHIT!" A familiar voice shrieked, and Quackity's heart almost stopped as Tubbo burst through the doorway, hauling a hysterical Michael along with him, both of them covered in soot and literally steaming. For a moment Quackity was convinced he was hallucinating because nobody could've survived that fireball, but then he saw the glowing orange particles rising off Tubbo and Michael's skin.

"Shitshitshitshit!" Tubbo yelped, limping towards them with a wild look in his eyes as he held Michael—who was bawling his eyes out—close to his chest. "What in the bloody hell—"

"H—how—" Ranboo choked.

"Woke up early!" Tubbo wheezed, collapsing in the grass. "Was making potions... peace offering for Technoblade... fuck... smelled smoke! Threw a fire resistance at Michael and then the shack just went boom—"

"That's not normal fire," Quackity blurted.

"You're right," a chillingly familiar voice replied from behind him, and Quackity froze.

He suddenly felt like his chest was trapped in a vise.

Oh god.

Oh, no, no no.

Please don't tell me that's who I think it is.

"That sure as hell's not normal fire, Quackity," Dream chuckled, and there the bastard was, standing on the hill just behind the burning shack, and Quackity didn't even need to see that single green eye to know that Dream was grinning at him like a maniac. "Y'know, this is great, isn't it? When I tortured the information out of Sam, he said just Tubbo would be here. But look at this! You're here too, Quackity! This is just perfect!"

Tubbo's eyes widened.

"MOVE!" Quackity shouted, and tackled Tubbo out of the way as a blast of chromatic fire slammed into the ground where he'd been sitting seconds before, igniting the grass, which was still brown and dry.

Michael screamed.

"Aw, look at you, protecting him!" Dream taunted, and flicked his wrist. Another bright pink fireball blazed to life in his hand. "Thought you said you didn't have anything left to lose, Flatty Patty!"

Quackity snarled.

"Don't you FUCKING CALL ME THAT!" He screamed, and snatched up the nearest weapon he could reach—a slightly charred two-by-four, which was perfect to bash in Dream's face with—and threw it.

Dream just snorted.

"Nuh-uh, we'll have none of that, thanks," he remarked, effortlessly knocking Quackity's improvised weapon out of the air with a wave of his hand. "Sapnap, George, keep this piece of shit occupied for a minute. Wilbur, go take care of Phil and get the trident. I have some revenge to exact."