Mcyt oneshots

What is a ghost? (dsmp)

It too long to realize this. This trend that happened beyond the eyes of watchers and listeners and crows and voices and eyes and TV. It took a small bit of experience to understand and all right now, he wanted to go and say sorry.

The afterlife was a battle for him against God as he had promised to Philza. With him came the thousands of souls he'd gathered as voices that all noe watch as a partly unseating audience. This battle was one that couldn't be one because no one dies past afterlife but the thrill of fighting thrummed in his spirit.

He'd fought a lot. He fought Dream, Tommy, Squidkid, Philza, probably half or more of the entire server. He's fought against harsh weather changes, he's fought in the pit arena, he's fought in bedwars, he's fought on Mondays, he's fought against the withering rot. It made sense that he's continued to fight even in a place where fighting did nothing. He was tired though, a peaceful break would be the nicest thing possible.

Lady death came to him later that day. They sat in a ring of clouds looking towards where there should have been ground, should have been players building and flying and making mechanical devices and fighting. That was something that Technoblade found that he missed. The bustle of players and the sounds of his friends. He looked for them everyday.

"I know you miss them Technoblade."

She's seen people like Technoblade everyday that they come in. She could guess what he felt because she'd seen it over and over again.

"They're mourning for you, just as you are to them."

Did she say that to comfort him? If so, it didn't help him miss them. How was he supposed to protect Phil, Tommy, Niki? He couldn't even see them and he hadn't seen Ranboo. He didn't know how they were doing.

"How come I am here but I haven't seen anyone from Dream's smp?"

"You're here because your soul is truly unable to come back. Ranboo still wants to be with Tubbo and everyone. His soul is in purgatory waiting for him to be sent back and his ghost is out with everyone on the server."

"Do I have a ghost, Lady death?"

"It all depends. I haven't seen your ghost hanging out with Phil so I don't think so."

"What does having a ghost depend on?"

Lady death looked him in his eyes, eyes that were no longer in threat of being controlled, eyes that weren't forced to see things that weren't there. Lady death stared deeply into his soul and he felt creeped out, like his secrets were being put on display.

"Sweetheart, ghost formation depends on what you truly want."

With that, Lady death had left him to stare onto a world below him that he couldn't interact with. Lady death left him to ponder things he hadn't questioned before.

Ghostbur. Ghosts were everything that their counterpart desired. Ghostbur was a happy go lucky figment of the past. A ghost who forgot every bad thing that happened to him and every bad thing he did to others. He lived carefree, enjoying things like they were the last times he'd ever see them. He loved others without registering that things were wrong. He looked kind of like a cross between L'manburg Wilbur and kid Wilbur except with the killing scar prevalent against his grey skin.

Ranboo's ghost had all the memories his physical counterpart lacked. He lived fearless because he knew himself and the people around. He knew he couldn't truly be killed so he had internal peace. He cared for the little one that his physical counterpart sometimes struggled to remember important detail of like how piglins hate soul fire.

Tommy never had a ghost but the kid had a lot of desires. He wanted his discs, he wanted to remain by his friends side, he wanted to be loved and he wanted to be safe. Maybe his ghost couldn't manifest because his desire for safety was strongest and there wasn't going to be any place truly safe for him on the server? What a haunting thought.

Why didn't he have a ghost? What was it that Technoblade truly desired?

Eternal peace

A soul torn and torched by the marks left in a life of fighting would only seek the soft and warm embrace of peace. A time where he never truly had to wonder when his enemies would trap him. A time where he no longer had to take the lives of elders, adults, and children to make it to the next day. A time where he didn't have to watch his back and wonder if the people beside him will backstab him when things get rough. A time where injuries and insults would heal and slide off the body like dirt met with running water.

It was a sad thought: leaving Philza and the syndicate as he did. However, his soul was tired and this was his place of rest. He'd just have to wait until he could welcome them home with open arms.