geneticwizard

It has been 3 years after Tomato was banished to the Dark Souls knock-off realm by his ex-friend Bedbanana.
He had been fighting for what felt like forever, constantly being one-shotted by the same homeless guy. Again, Tomato was struck down, and as his consciousness faded, he saw the man remove his clothes, and was thankful to have died before what came next.
He awoke again, in this endless hell. He was void of hope, and he felt there was nothing he could do to get back to the world he once cherished. Suddenly, a thought emerged. Tomato knew of someone, who might be in deep of shit as he was.

He pulled out his Fruit-themed Walkie-Talkie and gave a quick call to the man he despised, but needed more than ever.
“Hello, I’m your host, Killer Keemstar.” the voice shouted awkwardly through the walkie-talkie
Tomato explained his situation “Hey Keem, sorry to bother you like this, but i’m kind of fucked right now, and I was thinking you could give me a hand.”
“Yeahh, sure thing buddy, but remember, you owe me $50, a news story about you raping a kid, and some raunchy, gay ginger sex” Keemstar said, authoritively.
“Yeah, yeah, I know” Tomato said, feeling utterly defeated
Before Tomato could say anything else, he heard the familiar call of a dark father awakening from an eternal hellish slumber.
“LEEEEETS GET ROOOOOIGHT INTO THE NEEEEWSSS” shouted an ominous voice, before Tomato blacked out.

He couldn’t feel anything. Oh wait, feeling was returning to his hands.
Tomato grasped around, trying to rouse himself from this sleep he was in. He woke in a sweat, sitting in a familiar ruined castle. He surveyed his surroundings. This was Dark Souls alright. He proceeded to make love to the floorboards before continuing, stripping his dignity even further, probably into the negatives at this point.

Walking down the stairs, Tomato almost did a spit-take, but it was mostly his own blood shooting through his nose. Ahead of him, stuck in a corner, was the same man who caused this torment in the first place. The man who exiled Tomato to the shitty realm he had to endure for ages. BedBananas. He stepped towards his once friend, drinking in his form. Bed was still proud, still full of dignity. But not for long.

Tomato placed a board, keeping any excess from running off. “Tomato, wait, it’s not worth it, man” BedBanana begged, but he stopped short as Tomato looked him in the eyes, empty of everything but lust and hatred. “You son of a bitch” he muttered under his breath, as he pulled the +69 Estus Flash from his belt and began pouring them into the makeshift pool Bed was trapped in.

The pool filled up slowly with yellow liquid, Bed struggled against the rising tide, trying to wrest some kind of humanity out of Tomato’s black heart. The pool filled up higher, Tomato taking breaks to refill his Estus at a nearby bonfire, but as the pool rose, Bed was not defeated yet. He began to drink all of the Estus.

Tomato’s efforts were slowly being reverted as Bed drank the sweet nectar, but this is what Tomato wanted. He watched intently as his former comrade’s belly ballooned up, confirming his worst suspicions. “I fucking knew it” Tomato exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, Tomato” Bed whimpered, tears of grace running down his cheeks as Tomato eyeballed his pregnancy, anger forming in his ginger eyebrows. “Is it mine, atleast, because I don’t want my perfect genes going to waste, even in a stupid fuck like you” Tomato muttered coldly. “No, it’s mine” a voice in the back said, as Tomato and Bed turned to see the new challenger approaching.

He adjusted his glasses, and took on a battle stance. Tomato may have lost a lot of things, but he wasn’t losing this fight, not even to Criken. Tomato pulled out his kinky whip and battleaxe, and Criken drew a long longsword (a.k.a. his dick). “Criken you son of a bitch!” Tomato screamed, “I thought I could trust you”. Criken stepped forward, and then charged towards Tomato at high speed, Tomato breaking into a sprint towards his opponent as well.

Too late, Tomato thought, as a single fully charged slap in Criken’s personal project SlapMan™ launched his ass off of his body and splattered it onto the wall beyond. Tomato crumbled, Criken victorious. “Now to claim my reward” Criken proclaimed gleefully, as he stripped Tomato’s shirt off, looking him in the eyes as he drew his other long longsword (a.k.a. a real sword) and stabbed Tomato through the chest, leaving a moderately sized hole. Criken then drew his long longsword (a.k.a. his dick, again) and fucked Tomato’s open wound, as he gasped in pain.

While this was happening, BedBanana had escaped his imprisonment after 3 years by dropping dung pies at his feet and vomiting to death, but he walked back to watch the scene unfold, Tomato screaming as Criken literally fucked with his heart. “Let him go, you son of a bitch” Bed shouted, startling Criken out of his lewd and morally questionable act. Criken turned towards Bed, looking into his deep bluish/brownish/greenish eyes and saw a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was Love.

Love, like Criken once felt when he and Zyke first kissed on the beach years ago. “Criken, can you do me two favors?” Zyke asked, looking into Criken’s eyes longingly. “What is it, dear?” he asked, prompting Zyke to reply with words he had forgotten so long ago. “Never forget how much your friends mean to you, Criken, also, fuck me harder.” Criken was happy to oblige.

Tears (of grace) formed in Criken’s eyes as he remembered this painful memory. “What have I done, to these people I have grown to care about” he thought to himself, before looking at his hands, and his two long longswords (his dick, and a real sword) as one of his hands shook violently. Criken knew he couldn’t be forgiven, and he could never be forgiven for what he had done to his friends. He couldn’t face them, he just couldn’t, as he launched a fully charged SlapMan™ Slap at his own head, killing him instantly.

Tomato rose off the ground onto his knees, looking up at Bed. “Why, why would you help me after I tried to literally fucking drown you to death, and why the fuck did you make Criken kill himself, that’s so fucked up.” Bed looked at Tomato, a smile forming on his lips as he looked into Tomato’s eyes. “You really wanna know?” he asked. Tomato was impatient at this point “Yes, I want to know, so that the plot makes sense” he shouted. Bed knelt before Tomato. “Because i’ll always be your fuckbuddy” he said, kissing Tomato on the cheek.

Tomato died that day, but he was happy, shocked at the way things turned out, but happy regardless. That is of course before he died from a fucking open wound on his chest and horrible mental, physical and emotional trauma caused consistently over three years.

Ten years passed, a man and a young girl stood over a grave, the man wiping his face tearfully as his daughter looked on. “Daddy, who was Tomato?” she asked, looking up tentatively. The man chuckled, as he unzipped his pants, exposing his erect penis. “Let me tell you, sweetie” he said, as he lifted the little girl onto his lap.