#FUCK IT THE DSMP CHARACTERS R NOW MY CHARACTERS I DO WHAT I WANT WITH THEM

[cosmic-nopedog]

oh boy.... that ending..... im.... oh my...

#WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT #I DIDNT EVEN WATCH IT LIVE BUT BY WHAT MY TL AND DASH R SAYING #JUST #HELLO??????? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT #IM LOSING MY MIND IM SITTIN HERE IM #FUCK IT THE DSMP CHARACTERS R NOW MY CHARACTERS I DO WHAT I WANT WITH THEM

[nerdysleepybunny]

Hallo! im new here so please let me know if i cross any boundries.'

anywho, I was wondering if i could request a platonic philza and/or techno comfort? ive had bad few days :(

Have a wonderful day/night!

I APOLOGIZE FOR GETTING TO THIS SO LATE!! I literally love dsmp asks even though the fandom is dying off, so this definitely isn’t crossing any boundaries! I hope you’re doing better. My dms are open if you ever need to chat! :D

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Character(s): Philza, Technoblade (ft. Mumza & Chat)

Fandom(s): DreamSMP

Reader: Gender neutral (you/your)

Style: Hcs

TW: N/A

Summary: How Philza and Technoblade (separate) would comfort you!

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Philza:

I feel like he’s the type to just know you aren’t doing well before you even say anything.

Like, you’re just sitting there in your feels, then suddenly?

BOOM CONCERNED DAD RIGHT IN YOUR FACE

“Are you okay, mate?”

“Do you need anything?”

“Here, let’s sit and have a chat.”

Literally shooing chat away so it’s just the two of you having quality time together.

Would sit down next to you on a couch, but probably wouldn’t initiate any touching. The most I see him doing is a shoulder pat or a hand rubbing your back.

Of course, he wouldn’t mind you leaning on him or embracing him! He just doesn’t want to touch you in case you want your space :)

If you want to talk about it he’s there to listen and offer wise old man advice (if you call him old while you’re upset, it’s the ONE time he won’t get defensive about it)

Like

He’s just talking giving you some advice about your problems, then he hears you snickering

“What’s so funny?”

“You sound so old right now, Phil.”

Usually he’d shout his usual “I’M NOT OLD/I’m only in my 30’s, mate…” (I’m pretty sure he’s canonically thousands of years old but shh let grandpa be delusional)

But now? He’d just chuckle and shake his head

“Whatever you say, mate.”

DON’T EXPECT HIM TO BE SOFT FOREVER, IT’S ONLY BECAUSE YOU’RE CURRENTLY SAD

After you’ve concluded your venting/told him that you don’t want to talk about it

You know what time it is…

DISTRACTIONS!!!

Pillow fort anyone? He’s giving pillow fort vibes.

He’s a dad, so obviously he’d just do all the work and build it for you. Again, only because you’re sad. Any other time he’d yell at you for not helping.

Speaking of sadness

Don’t let Phil’s wife see you sad…

OH NO YOU’RE SAD? NOW MUMZA IS SAD AND IS RUSHING TO COMFORT YOU

Mumza is the type to cry when she sees someone else crying, so now both of you are just sobbing together and Phil is there trying to comfort the two of you but is an overwhelmed old man and may end up crying himself

Uh… cry party?

Either you all end up making fun of each other for crying which results in you all laughing together, or you just cry till you get sleepy and pass out on the floor together.

What an interesting way to family bond.

Technoblade:

So you seek The Blade for comfort, the most monochrome and nonchalant man on the server. What a wonderful decision, reader! /lh (I’d do the exact same)

If you’re a Technoblade fan you’ve definitely heard the “it’s fine” audio.

Now I can either be wholesome and say he’d hold you close and whisper that everything will be okay to you

Or I can be silly and realistic and say that he’d pull out a phone and just play the audio with a blank face, but is laughing on the inside due to your “what the actual fuck” face.

Okay now for some actual comfort!

As we all know… Technoblade isn’t exactly good at comfort.

He kills orphans for a living, how do you think he’d react seeing someone crying like a child?

He’s standing looking at you with a look of “why is this creature screaming” and “wtf do I do”

“Uh… you good? You okay? You, uh… need a hug…?”

Very awkwardly holds his arms out for a hug, and if you accept, he even more awkwardly pats your back.

If you got his shirt wet with tears, he’d DEFINITELY comment about it

“Are you seriously ruining my shirt? How are my enemies supposed to think I have a good fashion sense now?!”

Goes into a rant about how he needs to look his best and how it’s a good strategy to beat his enemies in battle while you’re kinda just there… honestly are you even crying anymore?

You’ve stopped crying ages ago, and he’s still just talking

In conclusion, Technoblade is good at calming people down without even trying (I was literally having a breakdown and all I needed to do was listen to the silly pig man talk about Greek mythology. It must all be part of his master plan…)

Speaking of listening to his voice, here’s a scenario.

“Technoblade, can you read to me?”

“…what?”

“Read to me.”

“I’m not reading you a bedtime stor-“

“I wanted you to tell me about Greek mythology.”

“Fine. Come here.”

Long story short, he starts by reading you just one story. That one story turns into the entire history of the Greek gods and goddesses… yeah you pass out pretty quickly. But Technoblade isn’t one to stop mid-ramble. Once he notices you’re asleep, he’ll continue talking, just quieter. He’ll eventually get sleepy himself, and soon enough… you’re both asleep.

Works like a charm!

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

#bun asks #bun writes #technoblade x y/n #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader #technoblade fluff #philza x reader #philza #philza minecraft #philza x kristen #dreamsmp x reader #dreamsmp x you #dreamsmp #mumza #dsmp fluff #dsmp x you #dsmp x reader #dsmp x y/n #comfort fic

[isa-ghost]

My friend

I am gonna do it

WHAT ARE YOUR Q!PHIL HEADCANONS MY FRIEND

YESSSSSS

Here's Set 1 and Set 2

Now M O R E

He won't do it without prompting because he'll feel like an ass giving nobody else room to talk, but if someone got him on the topic of like. Exploration or flight or something, he could talk for hours. He's extremely knowledgeable and passionate about stuff like that, most times because he has centuries of experience

I don't want to diagnose cc!Phil or whatever bc I know he doesn't like when people do that, but to me his rp character is free reign. And as a psych major with ADHD who's focusing on the study of neurodivergent disorders: this man is hella ADHD coded. He's told too many personal stories that are relatable to me for me to be silent about it. I'm 🤝🏻 this crow man

In his case this isn't a nd trait but instead a crow one, but he experiences echolalia sometimes. Funny things or certain noises he hears just scratch an itch in his bird brain real good, he can't help but repeat it for a while

The way to Phil's heart is good food, fun to be around, and kicking ass. If you can tick those 3 things off for yourself, you're Phil Approved

He'll say he doesn't fall for peer pressure, and often times he's right. But on rare occasions someone like Fit or Etoiles can convince him to do smth he maybe wouldn't at first. It's easier to win him over when he's drunk

cc!Phil has talked abt how he gets a weird confidence boost when he's drunk as shit. That's real for q!Phil too. He could be staggering slurring speech drunk and still snipe something like 50 blocks away. It makes Fit and Etoiles want to kiss him about it

He has intentionally made almost his entire wardrobe varying shades of green, which he pairs with black, red & gold. He thinks it's funny to have a branded wardrobe like an anime character

Idr how canon dsmp is to q!Phil but he still has the friendship emerald charm hanging from his hat. Perhaps it's from the Antarctic Empire days instead. Idk, I just like the character design of Dangly Thing On Hat Brim too much to exclude it from his design in my head (I should rlly attempt to doodle my Phil beyond the random notebook ones I've done. Maybe I'll post those if asked idk)

Don't underestimate this man's ability to get dramatic. Tallulah ain't the only one in the family that can go hard

I wouldn't say he has a bad temper. He's very well-practiced at self-control. However, there are certain things that set him off so severely, he throws self-control out the window. Those things aren't worthy of him trying to be "the bigger person." They deserve their ass handed to them right here right now (see: The Codes pre-current lore).

In a similar vein, when the situation isn't one of those special Fuck This incidences, he still doesn't have a temper, but when he finally snaps, he SNAPS. Like on a The Polycule be like "mark me down as scared and horny" level of snap. When you get on the Angel of Death's last fucking nerve he let's you KNOW.

I'm self-projecting here: this fucking idiot man has a detrimental habit of insisting on handling stuff like anxiety alone. He hates when people see him without his composure. It's not even like an embarrassing thing, it's just very uncomfortable to him. So when a panic attack hits or he finally concedes and let's himself cry, it's alone. And sometimes that makes it worse. But even that doesn't make him change his mind. "Keep it together for the kids," right? :')

#qsmp #philza #qsmp philza #q!philza #philza headcanons #qphil headcanons

[griancraft]

Ok as per my last post. This is Long and very much about my feelings so uh don’t read it if you don’t want to. Also I’m aware I sound genujneky crazy for half of this I’m just really really mentally ill in ways I don’t talk about here at all and now I am sharing them and it’s. A little scary but oh well. The system stuff is the stuff I’m most concerned about right now to be honest bc it effects my day to day and if anyone has any kind words or thoughts on what to do I’ll be happy to listen

Please read my previous post if you’re mad /gen I don’t think I say anything bad here but I have really bad morality ocd so like uhm I am scared to post this!!! Prev post

Also I’m very sorry that the prose is terrible to read and my spelling is shit I have dyspraxia which is a coordination thing and it’s worse rn

The maybe I was boring album came on yesterday while I was cleaning and I had to stop what I was doing and turn it off halfway through because I just couldn’t stop hearing an admission. I wasn’t even sad I was just. So done with it. I still am just kinda like. God I hope Shelby is doing ok with all this being public now. I’m glad she was able to heal like she said and I’m glad she made the video dude.

I almost got his lyrics tattooed if that’s testament to how much I loved his early music. It’s not connecting in my brain that this music that’s been apart of my life for like 4 years and helped me through so much was made by an abuser.

But like, in retrospect you can see it. I can’t bear to delete ycgma off my mp3 player bc I related to his songs so much as an abused lonely teenager but I also can’t bare to listen to it. I learned the fall on my guitar as my final exam and I used to repeat his lyrics to myself to cope with abuse and I wish I could still love these songs. I dressed like his dsmp character bc I thought it made me look cool. Which is lame as fuck to admit now lol

Originally I was planning on pirating them and I like, can’t especially after that manipulative ass statement. How much was an act? I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m a bad person because I still kinda do want to listen to that music again. I still want to feel that safe but I know I won’t feel that way anymore.

with dsmp stuff I think I’m going to be still able to look back fondly on it generally and I don’t think I’ll ever stop. The community was what made it and the community is what I loved, and i still do. I don’t think I’m going to reblog art of him specifically but if he’s in it I might. Idk. My policy on dream fanart is if he’s not alone in the art and it’s dsmp or mcc related I reblog so I guess I’ll continue that here. Im sorry if that sounds callous I just. Am not prepared to talk about this so I’m going back and forth

And like. We also have a wilbur factive/fictive and we have for years now and nobody in our system knows how to feel about that. He formed to fill the role of a big brother (I was being heavily emotionally neglected at that point and needed someone to be there for me) and protector from my parents abuse. Obviously, he is entirely separate from his source now bc alters change a lot for me but how we picture him is still wilbur. he’s literally just some guy now but grappling with that connection is fucked up dude it’s weird. He’ll probably further distance himself but it still fucking sucks and I don’t know how to communicate the cognitive dissonance we had to push through bc our brain struggled at first to make sense of how this person who we liked so much that he became the template for a Protector to shield us from the emotional neglect and abuse, essentially, is a terrible person. I’m sorry I know people who aren’t systems, and some who are ngl, will find this fuckibg nuts and I get that but we’re a very very internal person like I just. Kinda am with us as a system a lot and nobody else. It feels like my safe space that I’ve created in my head has been marred. Also. uhm. Our alters speak in distinct voices so it’s bad bad for me rn and we are trying to fix it. I know I know fictives and factives arenttheir source but that doesn’t change that it makes me feel gross. I’m rambling rn I’m sorry. Support Shelby.

#tw abuse #discourse #vent

[sharpilu]

me when i finally make a pinned post

anyways

i will post takes you hate. please get mad at me in my inbox it's funny

requests are: OPEN

request rules, basic into on referring to me, my fandoms and my tags will be under the cut.

me, the most important thing around here

HELLO i am Charlye Sharpilu but call me whatever. and i mean that. please just make shit up i love not having a consistent name i wanna be assigned one by the people

i use he/it pronouns but any neos are epic. she/her is also fine but like secondary to the rest. they/them pronouns can krill themselves or something

request rules

no ccs, only characters. even if it isn't shipping i dont wanna

i love shipping give me all the ships i am a big multishipper and am very easily infected with The Ship note: i am personally uncomfortable with drawing ships including characters of ccs who have stated they are uncomfortable with it. (+Pearl) i don't care if others do, i just dont wanna do it myself.

no NSFW i am a MINOR (suggestive stuff is fine though)

NSFW does not include gore please tell me to gore my blorbos

i do my requests in order of being sent them, though i may make some exceptions if i get motivation or an idea for a specific one

i do what i want fuck you

also if you request Scott DangThatsALongName Smajor you'll probably get something like this

fandom list (bold is hyperfix, italics is vague interest)

MCYT (HermitCraft, Empires, Traffic Life, Third Eye) technically also dsmp but i only care about a third of them anymore

Rainworld

Sonic the Hedgehog

Cattails

Hazbin Hotel

Undertale/UTMV (+ UT Yellow)

Bittersweet Candy Bowl

Toilet Bound Hanako~Kun

OMORI

Cult of the Lamb

FNAF

Pokemon

Helluva Boss

Camp Camp

Warrior Cats, unfortunately

me tags

#hey look art > art tag. me art innit

#no art just talk > my art is not here i am just talking

#ask function being used > asks. also used for requests. for now. probably

and i tag tws as #tw [thing] and i use "tw" for all warnings, including content warnings. it's just easier. feel free to ask me to tag stuff. also i do say slurs but i also tag them. said tags are #tw t slur #tw f slur and #tw r slur.

#pinned post #blog intro #no art just talk #hey look art #ask function being used #using all my tags so you can look at them right away from here :3

[cupcraft]

You know tbh I still don't have a full answer on this. My comfortability right now is to post about other cc's mostly Tommy, ranboo, Phil, tubbo, Wilbur and adjacent ccs (like shubble) (until things change/if they platform dream/etc). So I do plan to liveblog mcc this weekend if all is well.

As for lore analysis it's so gutting because this has been a huge source of comfort for me definitely one of my special interests and I don't think I am comfortable platforming dream's character in any capacity or watching volume 2. And at this pt don't even think I can watch ctommys finale because of dreams presence either :( which fucking hurts. Like idk if I can watch the egg finale either even though dreams not touched that. It's so up in the air how I feel. I think as things move forward I'll be comfortable discussing lore of some characters/hcs and stuff. Though my goals to maybe move to tubbo shubble and olives ratsmp lore if I can...

As for fics and stuff. There are two dsmp related zines I am in and I do plan to finish those works. And one of my works is already long submitted prior to all of this for context (I can say when it's released what that entails). And my current fics I do think I want to finish them even though 2 have mentions to cdream. I think bc ashes the final chapters won't mention cdream so it should be okay and as for gasstationverse I'll have to pivot the direction of the fic to focus on other things. As when I'll write again idk when. And I also don't know what's most respectful to do (so feel free to send advice ig...) For context at least ashes I have 2 chapters left some of which is already pre-written.

Sorry this is long and some of this may change. It's been so hard to figure out what to do and how to feel. And especially with lots of people leaving the fandom I feel a sense of grief too (but ofc I understand why ppl r leaving).

#my musings

[oracleze]

intro post !?

haiiii ^_^ my names amadeus, i use he/she prns and im just a little guy, one may argue ^_^

byf be aware i am very very new around here i don’t know how anything works on this website ! im a big minecraft guy tho so if u don’t fuck w mcyt ur gonna want to turn around now because it will be 90% of what i post and repost ^_^

my main interests include:

-yhs, the reboot and original! mostly the reboot rn but i loooove the ogs too (i Have seen tokyo soul and it is canon to me. sorry folks) my main favs r grian, taurtis and ellen from the OG and probably bunny and chaos from the reboot! suuuuuper huge bunny fan i’ve been non stop talking about them for weeks now….

-hermitcraft/life series… obligatory my main favs r grian and scar because im a sucker for tragic gays. sorry! other than them i’m also an etho girlie because i watched mindcrack when it was still coming out and the bteam vs team canada trial sits in the back of my head constantly

-dsmp ! No i can’t leave they have me hostage (been here since november 2020 i repent my sins) my main favs r benchtrio + pumpkinduo (i’m obsessed w them if u wanna talk about pumpkinduo i do too)

i think that’s all ?! ummm im new to tumblr i don’t know how things work here. so sorry if im existing wrong i mainly use ig and discord!! ummm all i’ll say is that im here for fun not for arguments sooo if we disagree im probably just gonna block u because arguing makes me nauseous!

main dni !

-obvious stuff like bigots (TERFs, queerphobia, racism, misogyny, etc)

-wilbur supporters…. idgaf listen to some different music

-dream team supporters and fans in general. even drama stuff aside i just don’t like them

-if u think mcyt stuff is rpf when it rlly isn’t… ofc there is rpf of those guys but i’m always talking about the characters in reference to plotlines or fanfics. i’m sorry they share names across c! and cc! i didn’t do that, they did !

-if u can’t stand hermitshipping. sorry it’ll probably happen here at least once. plus in my head all of the grian smp’s r connected in one big web (i will tell u about it if u want btw) so in my mind hc!grian is the same guy as mr. gay sex over here (ts!grian)

-if u hate love and joy and happiness. Abbbbsooolutely not. joyous days only

okay errrr i think that’s it. this is in fact rewritten from my previous intro but i wanted to make a dni so i changed it to specify 🫶

#yhs #intro post #looking for moots

[izzyhandsgf]

I posted 1,613 times in 2022

That's 1,613 more posts than 2021!

144 posts created (9%)

1,469 posts reblogged (91%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cromatheskeleton

@bansq

@werenotacoupleyesyouare

@what-when-where-and-y

@metkapop

I tagged 139 of my posts in 2022

#tnt duo - 96 posts

#tnt duo brainrot because i love them - 90 posts

#quackity - 88 posts

#tntduo - 84 posts

#wilbur soot - 80 posts

#quackbur - 79 posts

#tw quackbur shipping - 74 posts

#dream smp - 72 posts

#dsmp - 71 posts

#wilbur - 70 posts

Longest Tag: 70 characters

#seriously tho if you have ideas please tell me writers block  h u r ts

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I love to think that when either Wilbur or Quackity is questioned about the nature of their relationship with the other that they’ll be all like “WHAT??!! H-HIM??? My relationship with him is PURELY business, I want absolutely NOTHING to do with the likes of HIM,” in utter indignation at this suggestion and then cut to five minutes later where they’re making out against the burger van.

205 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

#4

you’re in his DMs, I’m terrorising the casino he owns whilst simultaneously trying to fix every mistake i’ve made in the past. We are not the same.

212 notes - Posted August 22, 2022

#3

Ok but like- I’m just saying if a Revived Wilbur and Quackity had a wedding (yes I know of the multitudes of trauma, I’ve thought this whole thing out lmao), then you can’t tell me that Wilbur would just show up in the most gorgeous, lacy, fitted, ivory-white dress ever, and then just throw his filthy old trenchcoat on top and act like he’s a fucking fashion icon.

He’d just be walking up the aisle and everyone there would just be like smh Wilbur couldn’t you go one day without the trenchcoat you bloody JD kinnie.

Also Tommy would most definitely be the flower boy and throw cactuses and shit at people he didn’t like, Niki would be Wilbur’s maid of honour (we love ignoring canon to make fluffy scenarios /hj), Slime would be Quackity’s best man and naturally, it’d be a classic church prime wedding as per tradition.

256 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

#2

the men of the dsmp really just knew that straight relationships weren’t gonna be a thing so just said fuck it and went about dating men

281 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

i am starting to genuinely belive that my mans c!wilbur just had a massive sexuality crisis in limbo- 

like he comes out of complete and utter sexual depravity almost 100% gayer? my guy probably didn’t have much to do, and when the mind gets bored, the mind starts to think of homosexual things.

i picture him just like sitting alone in the train station, absent-mindedly throwing a rock at the walls, when his brain is just like- “Ok but hear me out- what about men?”

“and what about quackity in particular?”

LIKE- you cannot tell me that this man wasn’t on Wilbur’s brain 24/7, where else do you think this sudden urge to go see him came from?? C!Wilbur definitely had nice thoughts about a certain pretty man, questioned his sexuality ten times a day, and with a splendiferous revival ended up almost 500x more homosexual. That’s just how it works now.

i also have like another million theories about how he changed during the course of his limbo but we’ll save those for another tumblr post shall we-

289 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[dr3amofagame]

take a shot - dsmp!mcc fic

MCC FIC! MCC FIC! MCC FIC! To be clear, I outlined this weeks back, when teams were first announced, and I took very very little from the actual MCC itself when it came to actually writing this - all I have are the same teams, but it really exists in its own continuity outside of Real Life MCC (obviously, as it’s using the dsmp characters) and everything like that as a whole! Just to be clear :D)

The worldbuilding is also Absolutely Bullshitted start to finish, as well as any and all medical information. Rip. We’re here for a good time, not for a long or particularly accurate one - hope you guys enjoy regardless!! I had a LOT of fun writing this fic, dsmp!mcc aus my BELOVED

title obviously from win it all by derivakat

---

Michael loves MCC.

But it’s one thing to love the normal Championships and quite another when his team looks like it’s falling apart from the inside out - and as the games progress, it becomes more and more obvious that losing, this time, might not be an option.

tws: C!QUACKITY CRITICAL (sorry i promise i love him but he is NOT portrayed very nicely here, very dark portrayal of him), implied trauma, abuse, torture, panic attacks, manipulation, gaslighting, needles, hospitals, MCC-typical violence, emotional distress, prison arc, pandora’s vault themes

(16k words !! :D long boi) 

Michael loves MCC.

Of course he does! It’s fucking MCC - like, who wouldn’t love it? MCC is how he met so many people, how he met Dream, that one time, the two of them teamed with Techno and Burren and winning it all - MCC is a goddamn blast and he’s thankful every time he gets the invite that he’s able to compete. 

Still- it’s hard not to be a little more nervous, now. 

Dream gave him an invite to his SMP right after they teamed, but it wasn’t until months later that Michael actually cashed it in. Entering the server, it became very obvious very quickly that the DreamSMP, as it’s known, isn’t quite the same as its shiny media appearance. The spawn was covered in blocks, creeper holes littering the ground. The people he passed were grey-faced, too stoic to be the same, smiling faces he remembers from only less than a year ago. The air stings of gunpowder and iron. Worst of all are The Crater, shoddily covered in glass that does nothing to hide the damage done, rending the server in two straight down to bedrock, and the Prison, looming on the horizon. Absent-mindedly, Michael rubs at his left shoulder, remembering the Warden setting the prongs of his trident against the skin in warning, just hard enough to barely draw blood. Yeah, that place is bad news. 

The fact of the matter is the server is a mess. And like, okay, whatever, Michael gets it. Everyone has their issues - it’s just the DreamSMP seems to have more than most. Despite his original worries, it’s honestly not been as bad as he originally feared upon logging in; yeah, Bad and Puffy and Foolish and the rest of them are a little more trigger-happy than he might’ve expected (and he’s not going to say that Bad crying over turtles wasn’t a little startling when he first joined, but honestly he thinks Bad is just Like That.) There’s way more death than he’s really comfortable with, and Puffy keeps mentioning Bad murdering her son (Foolish? He thinks? The guy is also a literal God but like, families are weird, who’s he to judge) in a way that’s way too casual to come from anyone entirely well-adjusted, but overall his experience has been alright. 

Still, he gets the feeling that nobody exactly wants the outside world to know about the issues with the place. It’s not an issue for him usually, not when his sleeping schedule is the exact opposite of most of the people he knows and he spends most of his time screwing around on the server, anyway (usually harassing the Warden until the asscrack of dawn if he’s being honest) but with MCC, with everyone watching - he’s starting to get why everyone from the SMP was so damn tense all the time, now. 

Anyway- he loves MCC, he really does. But even that doesn’t stop him from wincing when he sees his team card, the names Dream and Quackity and Sapnap written in Scott’s looping handwriting. He’s not seen Sapnap at all since joining the server, has only heard a little about his place (something Kingdom, not that he was paying attention) from Foolish, and has no idea what the man has been up to. Quackity is his own unique can of worms; Michael doesn’t know exactly what’s up with him and his country, but everything he’s heard so far has sounded like nothing but bad news, casinos and schemes and a trail of wreckage following wherever he goes. And Dream-

Michael looks out his window, chewing on his lip, looking directly in the direction where he knows the prison stands, impenetrable, intimidating. Where Dream’s cell is, in line with his house, where he’s been hidden for months without a trace. Where the Warden had confronted him that one night, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, blood splattered on his boots. 

There’s no real ignoring an MCC invite - not without good reason, not without the admins picking up on something being up. There’s not really a choice, here, but for Michael to duck his head down and pretend everything’s fine just like everyone else from the SMP. He directs one last glance at the prison before walking away, setting the invite on his counter. If he’s lucky, everything will turn out fine. 

(He ignores the part of him that asks what’s going to happen if they’re not. No point in worrying about what hasn’t happened yet - right?) 

---

Weeks pass, the tournament creeping closer, and Michael gets no alerts from his teammates on his comm. No one comes to his house to check in, say hi, not even a ‘hey, we’re kinda competing in a massive tournament in like, seven days, you ready?’ Hell, he even starts checking his goddamn mailbox for a letter or something only to come up empty-handed every time. Never mind performing well - it’ll be a miracle if their team manages to arrive at the tournament at all. 

It isn’t until the day before MCC, the sun high in the sky at what must be near noon, when he finally gets a message on his comm. Michael fishes it out with a frustrated huff, seeing Quackity’s name pop up first when he manages to turn on the screen. 

Quackity whispers to you: you down for some practice?

It takes a couple seconds for him to blink away his shock - out of everyone he expected to arrange practice for their team, Quackity was definitely not at the top of the list. He half-thought they would have to drag him to the tournament kicking and screaming; from what he’s heard, he’s been nothing if not devoted to his country. Shaking his head, he goes to reply; practice is practice, and their team really needs it. 

You whisper to Quackity: sure. practice server?

Quackity whispers to you: yes

Pulling up his server list, Michael scrolls for the practice server, finding it and then letting the server transfer do the rest. A few nausea-inducing seconds later, he’s at the practice server spawn, standing in the middle of a neatly paved road surrounded by colorful arenas and signs. 

“Michael!” 

He turns; there, by the Battle Box arenas, Quackity is waving at him, already dressed in a red varsity jacket and a pair of shorts, the jacket bearing a front pocket embroidered with a rabbit and a large R stitched onto the back. He reaches behind him for a red bag, throws it his way for Michael to catch mid-air. 

“Got these outfits for us last minute - hope it’s alright with you,” Quackity smiles, and Michael tries to prevent his eyes from clinging to the scar spanning the entire left side of his face. “Anyway- how are you, man? I feel like we haven’t seen each other at all on the server. How’s it been?”

“I’m good- it’s been good.” Michael opens the drawstring bag, cataloguing the contents - there’s a jacket, just like Quackity’s, a pair of shorts and sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a headband, all in varying shades of red and white. “Nice outfit- thank you. Is anyone else around?”

Quackity waves a hand behind him. “Yeah- Dream’s here. Should be coming out of the arena soon, actually.” Michael looks over behind his shoulder to where he’s pointing - there, walking down the stairs, is another figure wearing all red that must be Dream. “There he is- hey Dream! Michael’s here!” 

Dream hurries down the stairs; unlike Quackity, he is wearing the sweatpants along with the same jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets. His hair is a lot longer than Michael remembers, pulled back behind his head in a ponytail, mask, as usual, fastened over his face. He settles behind Quackity, giving Michael a small wave; his hands are covered by a pair of fingerless gloves. 

“Hey, Dream!” Michael grins; it’s been such a long time since he’s seen his old teammate, and despite the circumstances and everything that’s apparently happened since then, it’s still pretty damn nice to see him. “How’ve you been?”

Dream seems to freeze for a moment, before shaking his head. “Good,” he says, quiet, sounding almost breathless. Michael’s eyes go to the slivers of skin that show on either side of his face, to the slight shake to his hands. 

“You alright? You look a little pale,” Michael asks, and he definitely doesn’t miss the way Dream stills at the words, muscles tensing, gaze averting to the side even with the mask - doesn’t miss how Quackity steps forward, looking Michael in the eye as he tosses a casual arm around Dream’s shoulder, smiling brightly. 

“Don’t worry. This idiot has just been practicing a bit too much before you got here,” Quackity gestures with a flippant twist of his wrist, “You know how he gets. Right, Dream?” 

“Um- yeah. Ha,” Dream responds just a little too late to be strictly normal, shoulders tight and nearly pulled to his ears under Quackity’s arm. “Practice- I’m a little out of shape.” 

“You sure?” Dream’s breathing hitches and Quackity steps forward, just a little bit, eyes still fixed firmly on Michael’s own even as he shifts his gaze to try and look at Dream. “We can take a break if you need, Dream-”

“I’m fine!” Dream smiles with a little stuttered breath that turns into a small laugh, “It’s- uh. It’s fine. Thanks Michael, but we can practice. Not much time left to waste, you know?”

“You sure, Dream?” Quackity says, suddenly, voice soft and sincere. “I guess it has been a while since you’ve been able to practice- you sure you don’t need a break?”

Dream shakes his head firmly. “No- it’s fine. Really- where’s Sapnap? He should be coming soon, right?”

“If you say so, pal,” Quackity replies, doubt coloring his tone as he pulls out his communicator. “I told Sapnap to come, he replied a couple minutes back; he should be here soon, I think. You want to go meet him at spawn?”

Dream nods, and they begin to set out towards the center of the server, Quackity and Dream quickly taking the lead as Michael falls back. After a minute, Quackity falls into casual conversation, rambling about something as Dream nods, Michael trailing behind the two of them and adding his own input as he sees fit. Sapnap arrives soon after, and the noise level picks up even more after that, Sapnap and Quackity falling into an easy rhythm of banter and quips as they set out to practice Battle Box and Parkour Tag, carefully working their way through the different games under Dream’s tutelage and advice. 

And here’s the thing- Michael isn’t stupid. Yeah, he’d hardly consider himself a top tier MCC player, and he’ll be the first to say that he’s nowhere near qualified to deal with the literal laundry list of issues that affect every member of the SMP, but even so, he’s not clueless. He’s good at looking at multiple sides of a situation, doesn’t easily give into intimidation or manipulation, and he’s observant as all hell. So when Quackity wraps his hand around Dream’s wrist, fingers wrapping all the way around until his knuckles pale, when Dream winces, muscles in his arm locking before letting it go limp, not protesting when Quackity drags him forward except in the tiny, tight expressions that flit across his face every few moments, tight and gasping and shaky at the corners - Michael notices. 

“See you at the tourney, yeah?” Quackity calls to him after practice with a wink before clapping Dream on the back, Michael watching silently as the muscles of Dream’s neck pull tight, head ducking to his chest. “Good job, big guy,” he says, laughing. “Keep this up for tomorrow and we’ll be good.”

“Mmhm,” Dream mutters after a brief second, “We’re- we’re gonna win.”

“Betting on it, pal,” Quackity replies, voice light in a way that completely fails to explain Dream’s full-body flinch. “MCC, huh? Can’t fucking wait.”

“See you tomorrow, Quackity,” Michael says as he presses DreamSMP on his server list, pretending that a chill doesn’t crawl down his spine at the smile that the other man throws his way in return. 

---

There’s no real easy answer.

Michael comes to that conclusion at some point in the middle of the night, restless and pumped on way too much adrenaline to go to sleep. He can’t outright antagonize Quackity, can’t let him know he knows something’s up - not when Quackity had already spent the majority of practice keeping one dark, narrowed eye on him at all times, lips pursed in a slight frown whenever he thought Michael wasn’t looking. He’s not stupid; whatever’s happening between Dream and Quackity is secret, and kept that way for a reason. His mind goes back to the brief flashes of anxiety that had moved over Dream’s face before he could react fast enough to school them back into a carefully neutral position; whatever it is, he doubts it bodes well for Dream in the slightest. 

Unfortunately, his hands are pretty damn tied. He knows public opinion on the masked man in the server is overwhelmingly negative, but has no damn idea how far it extends. How many people are in on whatever’s happening in that damn prison? How many people know what would make Dream, bold and bright and recklessly confident in all of Michael’s (rather limited) memories, into someone so quiet, unimposing, nervous? His head spins with the possibilities, with the ever-present reminder to not make a fuss, let the tournament pass on, to never, ever let anyone find out what’s going on within the SMP. Should he do anything at all? 

Too soon, it’s morning, and he drags himself out of bed with a groan to glare at the sun streaming through his window. Somewhere, Quackity and Dream and Sapnap are also waking up, are preparing to compete in one of the biggest damn tournaments to exist. Michael sighs, glancing over to where he’s set out his outfit, freshly pressed and waiting. Any other day, and he’d probably be fucking ecstatic. Here, he buries his head in his hands, muffling a frustrated groan against the palm of his hands. 

He loves MCC, but he sure as hell doesn’t like whatever the hell is going on with the rest of his team. 

Getting into the server goes smoothly enough. The outfit is comfortable and looks damn good, props to whoever made the thing, and the sight of the multicolored crowd successfully manages to tamp down some of his nerves. He busies himself with saying hi to all of the members waiting in the lobby, happy for the chance to talk to some people he hasn’t seen in ages, feels the night of anxieties wash away with every stupid joke told and burst of laughter drawn from his lungs. 

They come back the moment Scott steps up in front of the lobby. “Teams, it’s time to head to your team rooms! The tournament will begin in fifteen minutes,” Scott says, expression sunny and bright, “we’re wishing you all luck for a great performance today! May the best team win!” 

In a flurry of movement, they’re all whisked to their rooms for a final few minutes of preparation and morale-boosting, and Michael enters the glorified dressing room to Quackity, Dream, and Sapnap already standing there, seemingly in the middle of conversation. 

“You ready to win?” Sapnap yells, and Quackity whoops, and Michael manages a small cheer of his own. They’re all visibly nervous; Quackity has scarcely stopped moving, pacing from one side of the room to the next; Sapnap is basically jumping in place where he stands. Dream stands at the very back of the room, looking tense; Michael directs a wave his way and gets a small one in return. 

“Game plan, game plan,” Quackity mutters, “do we know what games we’re playing first? Dream?”

He nods at Dream, and Dream stands up straighter, mouth falling open.

“Oh- um,” he hesitates, a strand of hair flopping forwards as he tilts his head in thought. “We’ll want to save Parkour Tag and Battle Box towards the end- maybe something more high-risk at the beginning, but not first, just to boost morale,” his teeth catch on his bottom lip, “Maybe something like To Get To The Other Side? If they have that- or Build Mart, if we can get it out of the way.” He shakes his head. “If that’s alright- I mean-”

“Great,” Quackity cuts in smoothly. “Sapnap? Michael? Does that sound good to you?”

Sapnap flashes a thumbs up, and Michael nods. “Yeah, sounds great. Thanks, Dream.”

Dream’s head snaps towards him, mouth slightly open in shock. The sight of it makes Michael’s gut twist uncomfortably; there’s something about how surprised he is, at the nervous hesitancy with which he spoke that was nothing like what Michael remembers of his easy leadership in that MCC with Techno, that doesn’t sit right at all in his stomach. Even with his expression largely hidden, there’s no mistaking the clear, genuine surprise on his face at the idea of someone thanking him - Michael tries to tell himself that he’s reading too much into it as Quackity continues to speak. 

“We’re going to win,” he grins, just a little too sharp at the edges, “so get out there and play like your lives depend on it, yeah?” 

Sapnap cheers, and again, Michael and Dream follow. It’s not until he’s outside the door, within the clamor of screaming teams and people counting down with the timer that Michael realizes that Quackity was staring at Dream the entire time. 

---

Michael curses, frustrated, when he’s knocked off a platform again, making sure to flip Krinios the bird before he falls into the Void entirely. When he makes it to the other side, Quackity and Dream are already deep in conversation - if you can call it that. Even from here, it looks worryingly one-sided.

“-were you thinking, falling off there-” Quackity’s hand is on Dream’s shoulder, Dream standing stock-still in front of him, “you better be taking this seriously, Dream.”

“Hey- sorry about that,” Michael calls with a wave, “I swear Krinios had it out for me. At least I made it across, right?” 

Quackity turns, startled, and in the split-second that it takes for him to register Michael’s appearance, his expression smooths over into something friendlier, more inviting. “Michael!” He says, enthusiastic, and it’s like the anger that had filled his words just seconds before was never there at all. “Don’t- don’t worry about it, man. We all kinda dropped the ball on that one, right Dream?” 

The words should be encouraging, just simple ribbing between teammates. Dream’s mask is still ducked down, facing the floor, shoulders slightly hunched in. 

“Um- Sapnap did pretty good,” Dream says, quiet, “he got top ten, right?” 

Michael looks over to where Sapnap is standing a little ways away, seemingly busy typing on his communicator. Quackity laughs, sharp and loud. 

“True,” he punches Dream lightly on the upper arm, and Michael watches the way he freezes the second the fist makes contact with his jacket, “come on, man, you’re losing your touch. You really gonna let yourself get beat by Sapnap?” he shakes his head, still laughing as he pulls open his communicator. “Jesus- even I beat you in that last round. Watch your spot, Dream, I’m coming for you.” 

“I mean,” Michael says when a second passes and it becomes clear Dream isn’t going to respond, “Dream was doing pretty well with the last two rounds, right? I thought I saw his name pretty far up there.” 

Quackity takes a second before responding, again, staring at Michael oddly as he does. “That’s true,” he concedes, “hey- I was just making a joke, don’t worry. It’s all for fun, right Dream?”

His gaze goes to Dream, and automatically, Michael follows. Dream seems to startle under the attention, twitching Quackity’s direction in the awkward silence that results. Michael watches as the mask slants slightly to face Quackity, as Quackity looks back at him with an intense, unreadable expression, shoulders strangely tense. Whatever unsaid conversation that seems to pass between them is entirely lost on Michael as Dream finally responds with a sudden, almost strangled bark of laughter. 

“Yeah- just jokes,” his fingers twist over one another, hands held close together in front of his body, “Though Qu- Q’s right, I- I should probably pick it up. We’re playing to win.” 

A ding alerts them to the end of the round, and Michael steadies himself in preparation for the teleport to the next map. As he turns, he catches Quackity’s expression, once again, and the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he continues to look at Dream. 

“Good luck,” he calls just before they enter the next round, and tries not to think too much about what he’s saying it for. 

---

They manage pretty well for the rest of To Get To The Other Side, finishing with a second place overall that got cheers from Sapnap and even a slight smile from Dream. Hole in the Wall, on the other hand, has been a lot less successful - though Michael will be the first to say that it’s his fault. His practice in the last few months has been lackluster (at best) and it definitely showed in the arena. 

He leans over the railing, watching Dream and Sapnap through the crowd of participants left that have yet to be knocked out by the giant walls of slime. Quackity’s standing next to him, having been similarly thrown off the platform early in the round, expression tight and lips set in a small frown, and looking at him for too long makes Michael uneasy so he looks down at the arena again. They’re in the last round, and they’re supposed to be making callouts anyway for their teammates still participating below.

Without thinking, once again, Michael looks over at Dream. Sue him, he knows the guy best and Dream has been acting odd all day, to put it lightly. Even ignoring the part of him that’s screaming that something’s wrong, that there’s something up that has everything to do with the beanie-wearing man standing besides him, it only takes a few minutes of observation to see that Dream is - for the lack of a better word - off. Michael watches as he vaults over another wall, only barely managing to bring himself to his feet in time on the other side. Dream’s movements - even to his untrained eye - have always been fluid, effortless. He jumped and vaulted and ran like gravity didn’t exist, like every physics-bending maneuver he made was as easy as breathing. Michael remembers watching him sprint over the parkour course before, time completely unmatched as he appraised each obstacle and basically flew his way through, sounding hardly even winded when he whooped loudly in victory from the top of the salmon ladder. In total contrast, Dream jerks away from the coming wall again, movements sloppy and harsh as he scrambles to the other side of the disc-shaped arena. He’s still fast, and still making jumps, but everything is strangely angled where it had once been fluid, stopping and starting suddenly, moving in bursts of speed and then skidding to sudden stops. 

“WEST!” Quackity shouts, and Michael watches as Dream’s head turns jerkily at the noise before he dives out of the way of the incoming wall and manages, barely, to twist around the side. Michael winces at the tumble he takes on the opposite side, clutching his chest slightly as he stands back up again. 

“North!” Michael calls, because he should probably actually help his teammates, huh, and Dream manages to move around this one better, jumping through a hole in the wall and tucking and rolling as he lands. “Nice jump- East!” 

It’s an easy wall, thankfully, and both Sapnap and Dream visibly take a breath as they stand in place for the wall to pass over them. As it passes, a droning buzz comes from the speakers, and the walls below them speed up. 

“South-to your right!” Michael shouts as they turn, eyes turning between all of the false walls before finally focusing on the right one, his shout echoed by a similar one from Quackity. At each one of the calls from the man besides him, Dream seems to tighten further, movements increasingly erratic as he dodges and weaves around the walls. There’s still a lot of people left - Michael follows Dream through the crowd with a frown, watching as he and Sapnap jump the next wall, Dream’s foot nearly catching on the top edge. 

“West-” Dream flinches, jumping over the two-high wall at the last possible second, landing completely off-balance on the other side and falling to the ground. He scrambles to his feet, but there’s already a wall at the west edge of the platform - his head turns, still searching for the wall - Quackity yells.

“LEFT!”

Something in Dream’s movements seem to shift, even in the distance - Michael watches as he immediately, almost robotically, steps to the left at Quackity’s voice, not even jumping, not turning his head to take in his surroundings, just moving instinctually at the words, and slams into the coming wall hard enough to get flung into the middle hole in the platform. Quackity curses, fist crashing into the railing as Dream falls and the chat message shows on their communicators, and a second later he’s materialized beside them, face oddly slack and mask focused somewhere faraway. 

“Shit,” Dream mutters when he seems to come back into himself, shaking his head and then turning to the two of them, still by the railing, “Dammit. Sorry, I-“ 

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael cuts in before Quackity can speak. “You did good.” 

“I-” Dream catches Quackity’s gaze, then pushes his head away, mask facing the ground. Something about it and his raised shoulders and the dark, angry glare that Quackity directs over the railing when Michael looks back makes him shift in place, uneasy. “Could’ve done better, ha. Sorry.” 

The three of them watch, silent, as Sapnap continues to compete. He manages to get pretty damn far, making it to the top three, but getting knocked off-balance by a wall and off the platform just before the timer sounds. Michael cringes back at the sound of it over the speakers, watches the other contestants settle into place, panting, in victory.

“Great job, Sapnap,” Michael shouts when he materializes in front of them, and the other two are quick to echo his sentiments. If they sound a little duller than they should be, if Quackity’s jaw seems clenched and Dream’s all coiled up like a spring, far too tense, it’s from placing lower than they wanted and slipping in the rankings, not anything else.

Keep your head down, Michael reminds himself, and everything’s gonna be fine. And if the words ring more and more hollow with every repetition, well, that’s for him to ignore and for everyone else to never, ever find out. 

---

Buildmart is chosen next, which they all groan at, but at least it’s going to be out early and not left to ruin all of their scores later. Michael takes his place at his build, one third from the left side - it’s some abomination of colored glass and white concrete meant, if he is to guess, to emulate a stained glass window. He’s between Dream and Sapnap, the former positioned in front of a flower-dotted grass field with a picnic table, the latter staring down a miniature car with black concrete for tires and stone buttons for detailing. He breathes a steady breath as they await the countdown, already planning for his trip to the Colors section to grab materials for his build and the others’- Buildmart isn’t his strongest game, but it’s not his worst either, and he’s damn well going to try his best. 

He skids into the portal with an armful of colored concrete and glass, spilling half of its contents inside a chest before running to his build. He pulls himself to the crafting bench to craft - he squints at his build - he needs four red glass panes and 3 yellow, right. As he brings the panes to his inventory and begins laying out the frame of the build in concrete, he looks over to Dream, who is noticeably struggling with placing the flowers in his build and getting the placements to match that of the original. He knocks away a white tulip with a muffled curse, sounding frantic as he looks back to the original, and places it again to no avail. 

It seems that his struggle hasn’t only caught Michael’s attention, as the statue to the leftmost side of the room explodes in gold coins and confetti - Quackity has finished his build and is now looking at Dream with narrowed eyes. Dream places the flower again, and the build refuses to respond. Quackity’s gaze narrows further, and he opens his mouth-

“Hey Quackity!” Michael starts speaking before he’s even noticed that he’s opened his mouth, fumbling as he regains awareness of what he’s doing and tries to find a direction for his sentence to go, “do you have any concrete?”

Quackity looks at him like he’s grown a second head, which is fair, considering there’s a block of white concrete pretty obviously visible in his hand. “Um- no? Weren’t you supposed to go to Colors?”

Dream finally manages to place the tulip where it belongs, and the build between them disappears in another explosion of gold glitter. Michael laughs awkwardly. 

“Sorry- haha. I got a little mixed up.” He places the last piece of white concrete, watching as his own build disappears. A little wooden cottage takes its place, made of what appears to be just oak wood and cobblestone. “Are you going to get wood? Or should I?”

“I- You get wood,” Quackity shakes his head, visibly frustrated, “And I’ll get stone. We have to hurry, we’re falling behind.” 

After that, Michael finds it a little too easy - or maybe not easy, but at least tolerable, to interrupt when Quackity looks a little like he’s about to fall on the side of being angry versus just annoyed, stepping between his angry glares at Dream with a forced smile and an incessant string of annoying questions- 

“Hey Quackity, do you have any spare iron?”

“Hey Quackity, I think you placed that a little too far back.”

“Hey Quackity, can you take a look to see what I placed wrong?” 

It’s not perfect. It’s hardly even functional; Michael knows that Quackity has begun with the habit of directing death glares at his back whenever he thinks he’s not looking, his responses to Michael’s questions becoming more and more clipped, often paired with irritated grumbles and sighs. Sapnap, when Michael looks at him, seems largely engrossed with his own builds, but he’s also begun looking over at the two of them with a vaguely dissatisfied expression, and Dream only seems to be getting more jumpy with every frustrated growl out of Quackity’s mouth. Even Michael’s forced levity and falsely ignorant questions can’t do much against Quackity’s anger when they walk out of Buildmart dead last for the minigame, dropping their team all the way down to seventh in the overall rankings, and the tension within the team as they walk out - Quackity nearly stomping, Dream following with his hands wringing around each other and head ducked fearfully - is almost enough to make Michael scream. He looks at the scoreboard with a worried expression as he enters the Decision Dome, trying to quell the sinking feeling in his gut. 

There’s still five more games to go, and he’s not sure how long they can last before something snaps. 

---

Battle Box is chosen next, and they react to the game with quiet cheers and slightly grim faces. Michael’s been in enough MCCs to know that this game, of any, is crucial - after their lacking performances in the last two games, a good showing at Battle Box will be crucial to pull them back into the competition and raise morale. With Sapnap and Dream, if this were any normal game, they should be able to sweep through a good amount of the competition without much effort. As it is, though, Michael looks at the two more combat-oriented members of his team with a worried expression, the two barely even able to meet each other’s eyes. Their interactions so far have been less than promising- if they can’t hold it together for this round, well. 

Michael shakes his head. They’ll do fine. They have to. 

Even so, the first round only seems to confirm his concerns - they get woolrushed almost immediately, and in Dream and Sapnap’s stumbling to get to mid, nearly crashing into each other and focusing their efforts on the same player by accident, the other team manages to fill out the wool, sending them back to the spawn box even more frustrated than before. 

“Amazing teamwork, guys,” Quackity snarks immediately, and Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Like you did that much.” 

Sapnap is still staring at Dream oddly, Dream turning his head to avoid his gaze. The two of them look largely oblivious to Quackity and his whole deal, even as Quackity whirls around to give him the stink eye. 

“You didn’t do anything either, if I remember correctly,” Quackity mutters, and Michael shrugs. 

“Fair.” 

A ding alerts them to the round’s end, and they resign themselves to preparing for the next round. Michael picks the extra arrows from the wall, knowing that no one else will want the kit, and watches as Dream anxiously runs his hands over the crossbow. 

The next round goes better, barely; Michael and Quackity end up knocked out pretty early, but Dream and Sapnap manage to kill the rest of the team soon after. He watches from the box as they fill in the wool, Dream looking awfully tense as he shears away the white wool for Sapnap to fill it with red. Quackity watches them both with a tight expression, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

Michael turns away, ignoring him, going back to watching Dream and Sapnap still standing within the arena. Both of them look awkward, oddly out of step with each other - Michael’s not watched them fight much, but he knows that they have a reputation as a pair, was there for the Sky Battle round where they completely wiped through the competition. Even here, Sapnap moves forward and Dream flinches back - there’s something heavy and tense between them, lingering in the few words they’ve spoken to each other, if they’ve even spoken to each other at all, one always rushing forward too fast or following just a little too slow. They’re still brilliant fighters, almost unrivaled in hand-to-hand combat and with swords, but the faltering communication is sure to hurt them more in the future. 

His worries come true just three rounds later, the two in between being narrow wins for their team, each a little more shaky than would be comfortable. Michael has found himself easing off the worst of his anxiety in verbally sparring with Quackity, jabbing at the other with offhand remarks and little needling jokes to keep his attention off the other two, especially as his glare has become more pronounced and his words more angry. Even so, nothing he does or can do will fix the odd tension between Dream and Sapnap, whose communication remains as stilted and awkward as ever. 

They’re facing a stronger team, PVP wise, with Punz and Seapeekay, and Michael ends up falling in a bow duel against Jack. He watches as the Captain falls to a potion by Sapnap, then as Jack is taken out by a crossbow bolt courtesy of Dream, just before Quackity falls to a well-timed bow shot from the opposing team. 

That leaves the strongest PVPers to battle it out, and Dream and Sapnap manage to team up and kill CPK - but not without taking a nasty damage potion to the face that must leave the two of them low. Michael watches Punz, booking it to mid with a crossbow, anxiously - both of them would be a oneshot with the thing, and on the condition that he takes no damage before fighting with either of them outright, he’s probably got enough health to hold out a few hits. 

Sapnap pulls out a health potion, and Michael grins - that’ll be good for the two of them, and should secure them the win - only for him to gesture roughly with his sword and for Dream to stagger backwards, panic flashing over his face. He only seems to grow more fearful at the sound of glass shattering on the ground, falling backwards further - far enough to be largely out of range of health pot - and in their shock, Punz manages to catch both of them off guard and nail Sapnap with a crossbow bolt that downs him for the round before similarly dispatching Dream in two hits of his sword.

Sapnap explodes upon respawn in the box - “What was that? I had a health pot!”

“I-” Dream fumbles, face still oddly pale, “Sorry I didn’t- I- I-”

“We had that round!” Sapnap’s arms flail forward as he gestures angrily, Dream freezing further as one hand skims past his shoulder. “I can’t believe- I had a health pot! Punz was on, like, half! We could’ve killed him!”

“Easy, easy,” Quackity moves forward, putting a hand on both of their shoulders - Sapnap seems to relax immediately, while Dream, if anything, only looks more tense. “It’s time for the next round - we’ll talk about this later, alright?” 

Dream nods, movements overly tense, and Quackity flashes a toothy smile his way as Sapnap moves back, still mumbling to himself. He and Quackity move to talk in the back corner, words quiet enough that Michael cannot make them out, and something sick and cold slithers over his spine. Sapnap and Quackity are fiancés, aren’t they? 

Michael looks over at Dream, mask still covering his face as he looks away through the glass to the arena, shoulders still tight as Michael’s pretty sure they’ve been for as long as he’s seen him since he came onto the server. He remembers the panic that make itself obvious on his face every time Quackity came up to him, even as covered as it is, the similar- if not the same- fear that had painted his face when he respawned fresh off of the Battle Box round after Sapnap’s sword had passed a little too close to his body. 

Quackity and Dream- he’s sure, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, that there’s something going on there, dark and dreadful and poisonous. Who’s to say that Sapnap isn’t involved, as well? 

---

They finish Battle Box decently well, but not as well as they’d hoped, pulling them up to fifth place with a decently large gap between them and fourth. Quackity and Dream disappear immediately as the Audience Votes begin coming in, leaving Sapnap and Michael to stand awkwardly in the lobby to wait for the rest of their team to come back. Michael watches the crowd for a glimpse of Quackity and Dream, comes up empty. A sigh fizzles through his teeth as he looks up into the sky, the endless blue doing little to ease his nerves - he’s worried, even if he doesn’t want to think about it, for his teammates. For Dream. 

It doesn’t take a genius to see that the man is scared of Quackity, that there’s an odd sort of history there that Michael conveniently has no information about. Whatever it is, it’s left Dream unsure and uncharacteristically nervous, left the entire team floundering without proper leadership to tie them all together. Really, a part of him knows that the Championships should be the least of his concerns - if he were braver, or a little better at combat, or a little less inclined to just let things pass as they always have, then he’d be raising a fuss. Getting in the way, talking to Dream, doing something other than making backhanded compliments to Quackity that he’s sure have been doing little more than annoy the man further. 

“Michael?” Sapnap comes within his line of sight, lips pressed together in a carefully put-together expression that Michael is sure will collapse the moment they’re away from others’ prying eyes, “Can we speak for a moment?”

Michael forces another easy smile to his face as he turns towards his teammate, feels a little disgusted at the amount of them he’s had to use to simply function with the rest of his team. “Sure! Where to?”

They walk at a brisk pace to the team room, Sapnap’s eyes focused forwards the entire time, not speaking. If he’s being honest, it’s a little awkward, but the lighthearted comment on his tongue to break the silence dies out the minute Sapnap closes the door and looks back at him with fierce, focused eyes boring into him. 

“What’s your deal?” He hisses immediately, words pitched low even though he doesn’t really have to - there’s no one nearby, and the team rooms are decently soundproofed. Michael feels his hackles rising as Sapnap’s arms cross in front of him, eyes still focused on his own as he talks. “I’m not going to lie- I don’t know you that well, even though you’re on the SMP now, but can you quit it with Quackity already?”

“Quit what?” Michael snarks - sue him - matching Sapnap’s tone with irritation of his own. 

“Don’t- you’ve been antagonizing Quackity all day,” Sapnap’s hand runs through his hair, messing up his hair and tangling it into knots, “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re kind of in the middle of a competition here? So it’d be really nice if you could save the fighting for until after we’re done?”

“Says you?” Michael can’t help the retort this time, huffing irately at the offended expression that flashes over the other’s face, “I don’t really know if you’ve noticed, but your teamwork has been a little less than stellar, today. Pot calling the kettle black, much?”

“What-” Sapnap looks confused, even through his anger, gesturing more and more wildly. “What do you even mean?”

“Oh, so are we just ignoring what just happened in Battle Box then?” 

Sapnap’s eyes flash as he closes into himself again, hands gripping at his upper arms as he crosses his arms in front of his chest once again. “That- that’s different. That’s because of Dream.”

“Oh, just keep blaming it on the other guy, why don’t you?”

“No-” Sapnap shakes his head furiously. “You haven’t been on here for nearly as long, you don’t get it, Michael. Dream- he’s-,” Sapnap flails, and Michael groans at the familiar words. 

“Dream’s what? I was on the team with the guy before, you know. It’s kind of the reason why he invited me in the first place?” He raises an eyebrow. “We worked together perfectly well then - am I supposed to believe that his self-proclaimed ‘best friend’ can’t do the same?” 

“You don’t understand,” Sapnap repeats, expression hard and oddly far away, “Dream- he’s changed- he’s done so many terrible things. I don’t know what he’s said to convince you, but he’s bad news, man. He’s hurt- so many people.” 

“Oh- you want to talk about hurting people?” 

Michael isn’t quite sure what comes over him - only really realizes a white-hot flash of rage lancing through his chest, a sleepless night and half a competition’s  worth of anxiety and frustration and build up combining into a sizzling spike of fury that briefly tinges his vision red. 

“How about the way Dream looks like he’s about to keel over whenever anyone gets close to him? How about how he flinches back at literally every loud noise and fast movement? How about how Quackity’s been making these stupid, angry comments at him for the entire competition that make him freeze for a minute each time? Or how about when you were in Battle Box and Dream backed away from your sword like he thought you were gonna drive it through his chest?” Michael barely feels himself stepping forward with each word, jabbing his index finger into the other’s chest. “You want to talk about hurting people? How about you go talk to that fiancé of yours and then come back to talk?” 

A loud, droning buzz comes over the speakers, alerting them of the end of the break. Michael steps back, face flushed in embarrassment, before the world whirls away and they’re teleported back into the Decision Dome. 

He adamantly refuses to meet Sapnap’s eyes as Quackity and Dream materialize in the sector with them, Quackity’s hand clamped around Dream’s upper arm as the other man keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, looking even more panicked and frozen than before the break. 

“You ready to win?” Quackity laughs, and Michael watches as his hand tightens around the sleeve of Dream’s jacket, knuckles paling from the strain. 

“Yeah,” Michael tries to cheer, and it feels like ash on his tongue. “Let’s do this.” 

---

Survival Games ends up being picked next - Quackity and Sapnap quickly pull up to the front of the group, close enough to be within eyesight but too far to really pick up their conversation. Michael keeps an eye out for the reddish glow of their bodies as they scout the surrounding areas for chest, staying back with Dream as they look at the other side of the road. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a smug sort of satisfaction of Sapnap seemingly confronting Quackity about whatever the hell has been going on, as awkward as his whole outburst had been. As it is, some time with Dream is nice without Quackity watching over his shoulder like a hawk - he directs a small, genuine smile at the man by his side that Dream seems to do a double take at before shyly returning it with one of his own. 

“There- I think I see a chest,” Michael points under a lamppost, running to the wooden box and flicking the lid upwards. He pulls out a chain chestplate that he promptly puts on himself, then throws over the iron boots to his teammate as well as a small stone axe that he’s sure Dream will make better use of. “We should probably catch up to the others - don’t want to be caught off guard while separated.”

Dream nods, and the two of them pick up the pace before finding another chest that Dream rummages through, this time, finding an iron sword that Michael takes for himself and a cake. 

“You’ve been doing really well so far,” Michael says after a few minutes of quiet, words becoming more firm when Dream looks up at him with a surprised expression. “Seriously- you’ve been doing great, man.”

“Thanks,” Dream smiles, words quiet and terribly sincere, and the sinking pit in Michael’s gut returns at the tone. “Not as good as I should, though. I’ve been underperforming a lot,” he laughs a little at the words, but even to Michael’s ears it rings hollow. “It’s not over yet, though.”

“No it’s not,” Michael concedes, rearranging his inventory as they run. “But it’s good enough, man, really - just look at my rankings.”

Dream huffs. “You’ve been doing good, Michael.”

“And you’ve been doing a hell of a lot better than me,” Michael tips his head in his direction. “Give yourself some more credit, man. You’ve been playing well.”

Dream smiles again, but even now the corners of his mouth seem tight, tense. “I need to play better, though, if we want to win,” he says, matter-of-fact, analytical to a damn fault. Michael rolls his eyes, but nods to concede the point. 

“Sure, but that goes for all of us, Dream,” he shakes his head. “And it’s okay if we don’t win, you know?”

“No.” 

Michael turns, frowning. Dream’s tone has become oddly flat, eyes dead as he continues to stare at the pavement under their feet. He seems to be chewing on his lip anxiously, startled out of his own thoughts when he looks up to meet Michael’s gaze. “I mean- I don’t know. I really have- want to win.” 

There’s something so carefully worded about the admission, quiet and scraped open and raw in the slow sincerity of the words. Michael wants to poke at it, wants to understand what’s left him so unsure of every step, what determination lies behind the words that has left desperation clinging to every shallow breath he draws. A crack of thunder on the horizon, heralding a player’s death, reminds him that now is not the time. 

Keep your head down. 

“Alright,” he smiles thinly, hoping that the fracturing, yawning pit of emptiness in his chest isn’t obvious in the words. “Then we’re going to win.” 

---

Michael skids to a stop at the finish line, feeling the elytra deequip as he’s thrown into spectator mode. He runs his hands through his wind-tousled hair, feeling it strain against his fingers as he roughly finger-combs it back into place. Dream and Sapnap are off to the side, standing next to each other but seemingly not speaking - Michael smiles as he floats over, still shaking the adrenaline off from the race. 

“Hey,” the two look up, smile in recognition, and Dream waves; there’s a small smile on his face, strained but present. “You both did really good!” 

“Thanks, Michael,” Dream laughs, earnest, “I did decent, I guess- haha. Top ten at least.” 

Sapnap whoops. “We’re popping off!” Michael cheers in agreement, and their efforts manage to pull Dream’s smile a little wider as he ducks his head to look away again. 

“Thanks, guys.” 

They watch as Quackity flies through the finish line, appearing in front of them and shaking his arms out as he gets his bearings. 

“Geez- that trident,” he shakes his head, looks up. “Hey, there you guys are. How’d we do?” 

“Dream got seventh,” Sapnap scrolls through his comm, looking through the rows of contestants and their times as they come in, interspersed by the occasional chat message, “And I got 10th. Michael got- 28th, I think? And you got 32nd.” 

“Hmm,” Quackity hums, “What do you think, Dream? Is that good enough to pull us to Dodgebolt?”

Once again, Michael watches as Dream stiffens under the scrutiny, head ducking down and looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Um- I don’t know,” Dream mumbles, “I messed up a trident- fell into the void once, probably could’ve done better otherwise-” his voice trails off, tensing further as Quackity takes his usual spot by his side, jabbing an elbow none-too-lightly into his ribs. 

“But you didn’t, though,” Quackity says, tone flippant, “so what do you think? With those placements- is it going to be enough?” 

“Hey, we did great, man,” Michael glares at him, more forward than he’d usually be - but all he can see is the shoulder that he has pressed against Dream’s arm, the way Dream’s stood stock still since the moment he made contact, “Lay off of Dream, would you? He did great.”

“Yeah, Q,” Michael’s eyebrows raise in surprise as Sapnap chimes in from the side, rising further when Sapnap moves forward to link his arm with Quackity’s own and half-drag him away from Dream. “Chill out, man, we popped off. We’re gonna fucking win this, ok?”

Quackity’s lips press together; he’s still smiling, but there’s no mistaking the seething darkness that lingers in his narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows, gaze still trained on the pale off-white disk of Dream’s mask. Still, with the rest of the team against him, he’s in a losing fight and he knows it; Michael watches as he visibly backs down, rolling his shoulders back as he lets Sapnap pull him further back. 

“We’re going to fucking win this,” he repeats, and Michael wonders how he manages to make the words sound so much like a threat.

---

“Sky battle,” Sapnap calls as the decision dome below them lights up in confirmation of the penultimate game, expression immediately becoming more focused as he turns back to the rest of the team. “Alright- strats, what are we thinking?”

“There’s the iron at spawn,” Dream starts, interrupted by the teleport to the Sky Battle arena, making him cut himself off comically and take a second to shake off the resulting disorientation, “And then there’s the iron in the nearby island. We gotta pick one, tower as soon as we can.”

“Got it,” Sapnap looks down, seemingly calculating, before looking up again - Michael has heard him compared to fire before, but he thinks this is the first time he’s really seen it; there’s a veritable blaze burning in his eyes as he looks at each member of the team, easily taking charge as they prepare for the first round. “Same buddy system as Survival Games - Q, stick with me, Michael, stick with Dream. I’ll tower to the next island- Dream, you good with getting the iron at spawn and crafting armor for us?” 

Dream startles, before flashing a small thumbs up at the other - Sapnap smiles wider, teeth bared dangerously.

“This is our game,” he cheers, and Michael enthusiastically whoops in reply, “we’re winning this, you got that team? Let’s go!” 

This, Michael thinks, is the way the games should’ve gone - they jump into action upon the start of the game, Michael watching as Dream races through both chests on the spawn island, getting the iron and jumping down cleanly with a water bucket before following Sapnap’s bridge to the other island. He tosses over a pair of leggings and boots as he lands, then takes Sapnap’s excess iron to craft the other pieces of iron for himself and Sapnap as the other man begins shooting at opposing teams. Their communication is near wordless, simple one- or two-word requests communicating all they need as they follow each other seamlessly into the main arena area, sealing off their entrance as they search the ring for other teams.

Sapnap, especially, seems to have shifted - instead of waiting for Dream to take the lead, he seems comfortable barrelling on forward on his own, trusting for Dream to follow his steps. Michael watches as the two of them easily work through the two lagging members of Orange, shooting through a gap in the wall to catch an unsuspecting Yellow player chased by the border. Michael ends up dying to an unlucky block of TNT placed on his head - curses out what appears to be Quig, bounding over to the other side of the arena, and follows Dream and Sapnap as they continue to fight their way through the competition. 

It’s not perfect, for sure - Dream hesitates at a bad place a minute later, ending with Sapnap getting 2v1ed and exploding in a flash of red sparkles. Dream is similarly dispatched a few seconds after, and the three of them watch Quackity, caught in the crossfire of two other teams, before he also goes down. 

“Good work, team,” Sapnap says as he appears, disoriented, in spectator mode, and they watch the remaining two teams battling in a rapidly shrinking border before Fruit falls as well, leaving Pink as the winners. “That was close- we’ve got this.” The conviction in his voice leaves no room for argument, and Michael, briefly, feels bad for anyone that stands in the way of it. 

With the second round, they once again fall into rhythm without any major hiccups - someone tries to cut them off before entering the main arena, but are made quick work of by Sapnap’s relentless onslaught. As Michael watches, Dream seems to regain confidence as well, moving more to fight with Sapnap side by side instead of just playing support, tugging him back from a risky play and catching Punz in a nasty combo that does him in when he manages to slip past Sapnap. 

The four of them end up in the final stand off in the middle, but end up getting caught too high up and killed by the border before they can jump down. Sapnap hisses at the narrow defeat, but the disappointment has hardly seemed to dim his determination - if anything, it seems to burn brighter. 

“Last round,” he mutters, and Michael watches as Dream walks up to him, bumping him lightly with his shoulder. 

“This is our game,” he says, a small smile appearing on his face, and Sapnap returns it with a fiery, blinding one of his own. 

“Ours,” he says, and even just standing on the side, watching - Michael believes it. 

Still, his concerns have yet to disappear - they linger in his mind as they jump into an adrenaline-filled last round, jumpy from excitement and victory just within their grasps. Dream is still more jittery than he should be, taking a second more than usual to react to fights, and his teamwork with Sapnap - while good - is still noticeably rusty. Michael’s lips thin at the memory of Dream backing away from Sapnap’s sword in Battle Box, hunched into himself, almost on the floor, with a clearly desperate edge to his expression - and no matter how he tries, he can’t quite manage to shake it off. 

Unfortunately enough, the third round doesn’t bode well for them from the start - Quackity gets bowed off while bridging to the main arena, and upon entrance there they end up flanked, hard, by another team in a conflict that gets Michael killed within seconds. Sapnap and Dream book it to the other side of the arena, where they manage to work through a full team without too much trouble - but the next minute brings another half-team flying at them from the back, catching them in the middle of trying to recuperate. The two focus Dream in the middle of eating a steak, and Michael watches as Dream steps back instead of moving forward to fight, that same shade of fear making his muscles seize as he stands, stock still, watching helplessly as swords fly his way- Michael cries out, but there’s nothing he can do-

Between one blink and the next, Sapnap is standing in front of Dream, a snarl painting his features as he whirls through both players in a fury. Michael watches, awed, as his sword weaves and dances between the two attacking Dream, making quick work of them both until they’re no more than items scattered over the ground, then grabs Dream by the wrist and drags him up a nearby ladder onto the upper floor, plopping him by the wall and then backing off. 

Sapnap stands back as Dream sits against the wall, breathing fast and labored, dropping to his knees with his hands in front of him, palms up, no weapons in hand. Michael watches, frantic, for the signs of any teams nearby - with Dream panicking and Sapnap’s back to the rest of the arena, they’d be easy pickings - but for once, luck seems to be on their side, because no one comes. Dream heaves a breath through his lungs, deep and shuddery - Sapnap watches, lips flat from concern, but doesn’t speak. 

“You good to continue?” he asks, when Dream seems calm enough to recognize his surroundings, and Dream looks up at the words, jaw slack from shock and disorientation, before his head dips in a firm nod. 

“Good,” Sapnap smiles, tight-lipped and fiercely determined, fiercely loyal, as he reaches out a hand that Dream moves to take. “Let’s go fuck them up, yeah? You and me, just like we used to.”

Michael watches, heart in his chest, as they stand together to face the rest of the competition, towering towards the middle and facing off with the remaining teams,  watches as they move forwards through explosions and buckets of lava, coalescing onto the middle island, as they battle through the remaining opponents as one in a clean spiral of clashing blades and flying arrows, fighting with their backs to each other in the center of the arena. He watches as a well-placed fishing rod by Dream knocks their final opponent off the platform, leaving them in the middle, triumphant, as the only remaining team - 

Watches, a brilliant, bubbling laugh in his chest as Dream and Sapnap take their spots in the middle of the arena, standing side by side as Sapnap raises Dream’s hand in victory, both laughing and cheering  into the sky.

---

Their performance in Sky Battle manages to pull them to third - but second place still stands a few hundred coins away, and they watch anxiously as Parkour Tag is chosen as the last game and they are transported over the arena. 

“Last game,” Sapnap calls, “We’ve got this, alright?” 

He gets terse, short nods in return - it’ll be a close game, and even Michael is feeling the pressure. He breathes a soft, quiet breath through his teeth as they prepare, looking over to the opposite team as they choose their hunters and runners. 

“Dream, you up to hunting first four?” Sapnap seems to be watching the effects of his words more, waiting for Dream’s agreement before moving forward, sliding into the position of leader easily when Dream seems to struggle. Dream nods and steps into the hunter’s box, lips pressed together, flat and focused, and Michael turns back to the arena to plan out his route. 

Parkour, by far, is not his strong suit. It hadn’t been his strong suit during Parkour Warrior and sure as hell isn’t it now - he enjoys it well enough, but with the pressure of a hunter on him or the time creeping past and the competition standings hanging over his head like a guillotine, he’s prone to slipping up and he knows it. The map is full of dizzying, multi-colored structures and difficult jumps, the twists and turns of the arena making his head spin. Being good at parkour is more than being good at movement - it involves being able to make split-second decisions and execute them with no time to hesitate. Unfortunately, Michael isn’t particularly good at any of that, so Parkour Tag mostly just stresses him the hell out. 

He sets out to the arena, listening for callouts over comms as he fumbles over the buildings. Halfway through the game, Dream’s voice comes through comms, quiet, focused. 

“Gottem.” 

“Nice, Dream,” Michael smiles, trying not to trip over a particularly hard jump, only to fall to being tagged in the back by the opposing team’s hunter - Ant, if he remembers right. “Sapnap and Q are still in- we’ve got this.”

Once again, each time, Dream races through the opposing team in seconds, seemingly going faster with each round. Michael has heard his reputation as a hunter before, but only now is he really appreciating the extent - the speed at which he manages to dispatch all three opponents is downright terrifying. They manage to win all four rounds, lingering around second place overall on the leaderboards, before Sapnap and Dream switch off for hunting. 

With each round, Michael watches Dream in the lobby, watching as he tenses further in focus and determination and no small degree of fear, but it hadn’t been nearly as obvious in between rounds. Now, with him in the arena with Quackity and himself, Dream’s jumpiness is all that more palpable, adrenaline making him pace and jump in place from where he stands at the edge of the place. The glass lowers, and he explodes into motion, bounding on top of the nearest tower to wait for the hunter to come towards them. 

Michael ends up caught first, early in the round, once again, and resolves to following Dream over the glass to watch his movements and make callouts for the hunter chasing behind him. Watching Dream move through the arena, dodging below fixtures and through tunnels and jumping from tower to tower with seemingly no regard for gravity pulling him down, it’s become all the more obvious that this is his element. He makes another hairpin turn around a pole, kicking himself up over a tower and then diving from it to a nearby building, landing on a ledge inside it, hands clutching the wall - Michael watches, quietly awed, as he outlasts the hunter, landing in small, panting breaths in the lobby. 

“Great work,” he cheers, quiet, as Dream shakes off the last dregs of the adrenaline, all of them watching the leaderboard anxiously, “Just three more rounds, alright?” 

The rounds that follow continue in much of the same vein - Dream, once he’s gotten started, seems near-impossible to chase down; Michael and Quackity provide support, distracting the hunter for as long as they can until they get tagged, but part of him wonders if it’s all even necessary. Dream flies from structure to structure seemingly unhindered by The Laws That Be, expression firm, if a little frantic, as he parkours his way through the arena. To their credit, the hunters chase, and several come pretty close - but Dream, worked up on adrenaline or anxiety or some twisted mix of the two, races over and around the buildings within the arena like his life depends on it.

It’s a surprisingly (if sickeningly) apt description - the skill in parkour is far from unacknowledged on Dream’s record; they all know his reputation with Parkour Warrior, all know that there are little that can match his skill as a traucer - but there’s something newly desperate in the way he runs, the muscles of his body tight and taut even in between rounds, expression permanently tight at the corners from fear. His movements, lacking in their usual fluidity, are made up with sheer speed and mad scrambles up walls that no one else seems to dare replicate. It’s concerning, even to Michael’s untrained eye, how frantic he seems the entire time, the flashes of expressions that he’ll direct towards the hunter like being caught by them will be his end, but- if anything, at least it’s effective. 

Between his parkour and Sapnap’s own skill, they manage to dominate the other teams without much issue, and the bonuses from eliminating the other team first combined with Dream’s survival points each round land them a first place for the game by just a few hundred coins. The four of them watch with bated breaths for the event standings, whooping and cheering together when it shows the red rabbits in second - 

“DODGEBOLT, BABY!” Quackity cheers, loudly, and the rest of them join him, laughing and screaming incoherently, “LET’S FUCKING GO!” 

“LET’S FUCKING GO!” Sapnap punches the air with a loud, resolute whoop of joy, and Dream - still shaking off the jitters of his last round in Parkour Tag - soon joins in with a few cheers of his own. 

Michael watches them all with a smile on his face as they cheer in victory - Dodgebolt has them against the Yellow Yaks, which will be a hard match up, but between Dream and Sapnap’s skill, if they all stay focused, they shouldn’t have any issue. 

They’ve done it. They’ve made it to Dodgebolt - if they keep their heads in the game, then they should win. All he has to do is keep his head down a little longer, long enough to win them the game, long enough for them to go home with new crowns and new coins, long enough for him to go back to living his quaint little life in his quaint little house - going back to heckling the Warden at night and hanging with Bad and Puffy, working on builds and living life away from the rest and pretending that nothing is wrong. The server will go back to normal come tomorrow, and it will all be okay. 

The smile slips off his face. 

They’ve done it. And then they’ll go back to the SMP, and Dream might evade whatever immediate consequences come with losing, but there’s no evidence that whatever’s caused that heartstopping, devastating fear that has characterized his every move is going to stop. They’ll win, and they’ll go back to the SMP, and they’ll keep dying and fighting wars and keep pretending that the world they live in is normal; they’ll go back to the server, and Michael will go back in his house while Dream goes back into his cell directly across from it, still locked in a black box with no way in or out, no means of communication with anyone outside, locked away with the key thrown away for anything to happen with no one to know-

Michael glances over to Dream, to the tense edge of his shoulders that has never left for as long as the tournament has continued and long before. To the grey-faced, grey-eyed inhabitants of the SMP, coming to the Championships with sealed lips and a shared determination to never reveal that anything is wrong, to pretend that things are normal and move on. 

Michael’s hands clench into fists at his side, then unclench, the helplessness cutting through his excitement like a splash of cold water straight through his chest. They’ll win the Championship, and then what? They’ll go back to the server, and then what? 

He looks up at the sky, avoiding the eyes of the rest of his team as they are teleported to the arena. Around him, nothing comes in reply. 

---

“Shit-”

Sapnap disappears in a flourish of red particles, and Michael winces as Dream picks up the arrow he left behind, biting his lip as he watches the opposite side maneuver on the ice.

Both of Dream’s shots hit true, and Michael switches to dodging over the ice as the opposing team begins to shoot. His mind is still buzzing with uncertainty, questions whirling around his skull and making his head spin, the reminder to just let things be raging against the anxiety that has wormed its way deep into his bones for the better part of the day. His performance has fallen a bit as a result, and they’re tied, 2-2, for the last round of Dodgebolt against Yellow - winner takes all. 

He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to tell, but he wants to fall back into the background. He wants to make a difference, but also wants nothing more than to go on pretending that everything is fine. It would be so, so easy to move on and wash his hands of the whole affair - it’s not like anyone else will know, only himself and the guilt that he’s sure will haunt him to remind him of his failures. Is there even anything he can do? He’s no genius at combat, or parkour, or strategy- all he has are his eyes, his ability to see what the hell is happening with no means to change any of it. 

An arrow whizzes towards him, too low to hit, and falls to the ice by his feet. Michael feels it plop into his inventory as he runs past it, shivering slightly from the cold or adrenaline or some mix of the two - not that he can really tell. The other team still has an arrow, the gleaming arrowhead catching the light as the person shooting - Jack, it looks like - moves it from one side to the other, looking for someone to aim. Michael lets the arrow into his hand, feeling its weight.

A sudden shock of clarity. 

He staggers back and nearly trips over his own feet, feeling relief rock his body when he manages to catch his balance - his eyes rake over the rest of his team, still dodging over the ice, completely focused on the opposing side. He worries his lip between his teeth - it’s a risk. It’s a hell of a risk, and if he messes up - they’re fucked. They’re more than fucked. There’s a good chance that this does more harm than good, a good chance that it won’t do anything at all. 

Michael takes a deep breath, and nocks his arrow. 

With his bow pointed to the floor, he doesn’t think anyone’s noticed yet - especially the rest of his team, gazes still trained over the centerline to the other side of the arena. Michael plants his feet, raises his bow, aims - he’s standing still, too still, and he can already see Jack swinging the bow towards him from the corner of his eye, preparing to let the arrow fly directly at him. That’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

Keep your head down. 

Michael lets go, and Quackity manages to turn just in time to see the arrow hit him between his eyes.

Not this time.

Michael just manages a wicked, satisfied smirk before the world disappears in a flash of red. 

---

“What the hell was that?” 

Michael teleports into the middle of the MCC main lobby, finding Quackity already mid-yell in front of the podium, where the Yellow Yaks have taken their places as the winners of the Championships, new, shining crowns on their heads as they greet the crowd with smiles and cheers. Michael turns to where the rest of the team has gathered in the corner, Quackity hissing angrily at Dream, curled into himself against the fence. 

“I- I-”

“You lost us the fucking game, that’s what you did,” Quackity grabs him by the arm, rage painting his features as he yanks Dream closer to him, ignoring the other’s panicked yell at the proximity and flailing to get away. “What the fuck- you had both the arrows. How the fuck did you miss that?” 

“Back the hell off, Quackity.”

Michael steps forward, bodily shoving Quackity out of the way - Dream’s head rises just enough for the two eyes painted on his mask to look  above where they’d been hidden behind his arms, though Michael’s far too lost in his own anger to pay any mind to him at the moment. Quackity turns his furious direction towards Michael, only seeming to get angrier as he meets his eyes. 

“Oh, fuck off, Michael- you-” he rakes a hand through his hair, “You fucking- we fucking lost because of you, you know that? We had that! We were going to win that, you fucker-” 

“And then what, Quackity?” The words Michael had been pushing back the entire day come forth, mixed with his simmering anxiety and muffled anger that he’d been forced to push down, game after game after game, one bubbling mess of emotion underscoring his tone and making Quackity rear back, “Then you’ll go back the SMP and pretend that everything’s fine and dandy? Go back to your shiny little country with a shiny new coin, beat up Dream a few times to work off the adrenaline because, hey, it’s not like anyone else is gonna know if he’s black and blue inside of that shitstain of a prison, is that right?” 

The flash of panic that makes its way over Quackity’s face is more than enough to confirm the worst of Michael’s assumptions, and the rage that has made a home in his chest only burns hotter. 

“What- what the fuck did he say?” Quackity barely manages to catch onto his tone, pressing harder with narrowed eyes and a snarl, “He’s lying, you fucking idiot, that’s all he ever fucking does-” 

“He’s not told me shit,” Michael presses forward, forcefully pushing Quackity away from Dream, who is cowering from both of them behind him, “But you would know a hell of a lot about that, wouldn’t you Quackity?”

“I have no fuckin’ clue what you’re on about, pal,” Quackity shakes his head, hair whipping past his eyes, “And I’d recommend you shut your fucking mouth before you go around hurling baseless accusations- I could have you sued for defamation, you know-”

“Oh, we’re talking law, now? Fine! We’ll talk legalities- how about we start with that casino of yours and work from there?” 

Sapnap moves over, quiet thus far as he watched from the sidelines, and Michael watches as Quackity relaxes, minisculely, at his approach - only to tense further when Sapnap presses a hand to his shoulder, meeting his eyes with blazing eyes staring right at his.

“Q,” Sapnap says, voice uncharacteristically serious, “tell the truth, now- what did you do?”

Quackity laughs - it sounds unsure, even in Michael’s ears, “Sapnap? You can’t tell me you believe-” he waves his hands frantically, “this- this fucking asshole, now, do you hear him? He sounds- he’s literally out of his fucking mind-”

Sapnap shakes his head, firm. “Quackity, I’ll need you to cut the bullshit. What did you do?” 

“He’s backing up Dream, Sapnap,” Quackity focuses his gaze on Sapnap, something creeping up in his tone, sweet and cloying despite the bitter tone, that Michael can’t quite recognize, “You know what Dream is like- he pulled the same shit with you, remember? You and George? Tommy?” He waves a hand at Dream, who ducks down further at the attention, “He hasn’t changed, man! He’s still pulling the same bullshit, still manipulating people for the hell of it- you know, the exact same thing he did to you? Don’t fall for that again, man.”

“I-” Sapnap seems to hesitate, conflict warring over his features. 

“Look at me, Sap - you know what Dream’s like. He pretends to be your friend, makes up some stupid bullshit to justify his shit - Michael hasn’t been around for as long, not like the two of us, remember? He doesn’t know.” Quackity brings his hand to Sapnap’s own, ignoring Michael’s protests as he laces their fingers together, “I care about you, Sap. All of this- I’m just worried that he’ll end up manipulating you again. I’m just trying to protect you.” 

“...liar.” 

“What?”

Sapnap steps back, wrenching his hand out of Quackity’s own. His expression, out of what Michael can see from the sliver of his face that is facing him, is stormy with fury and no small amount of regret - Quackity steps back, unease finally beginning to flicker in the corners of his self-satisfied expression as Sapnap stares him down. 

“You’re a liar, Quackity.” Sapnap draws himself up. “Now, I’m asking this for the last time- what did you do?”

Quackity’s expression stutters, falls, as Sapnap stands back next to Michael, the two of them between him and Dream. His eyes flick between their faces, then to Dream, then back again, frown deepening with every pass he makes between the three of them. Michael keeps his arms crossed in front of his chest, feeling his muscles tense with every second of silence that ticks by, Quackity seeming to grow more and more angry and tense under their scrutiny and unforgiving stances-

-a second passes, and he throws himself forward. 

“Quackity!” 

Michael only manages to throw himself out of the way of the man barrelling towards him just in time - too late, he realizes that he wasn’t Quackity’s intended target. He tackles Dream to the ground, pinning the taller man underneath himself onto the ground in a rough thump that seems to knock all the air out of him. Dream immediately begins to thrash aimlessly, jaw going slack in panic as Quackity levels his arm against his neck, going still as Quackity presses harder against his windpipe. Michael is only barely close enough to pick up what he says over the sound of the surrounding screaming, Sapnap rushing forward to pull Quackity off to no avail-

“-make what I did two weeks ago look like a fucking joke when we get back, going to make you wish you fucking died-” 

The world explodes into white.

When Michael’s vision clears, he’s face to face to the stony face of one of the MCC admins, their status displayed by the proud red [Admin] by their nametags and the fact that they’re floating several inches off the fucking floor. He backs away, strangely winded - probably from the panic or adrenaline or yelling or, more accurately, all three, as Quackity is pulled back effortlessly by an admin, easily caging his flailing limbs with a snap of code as he is frozen into place - and Michael whoops. 

“LET’S GO!” 

(The arrow hits Michael in the shoulder, and he disappears in a flash of red - only instead of going to his usual place above the Dodgebolt arena, standing with the other competitors, he finds himself teleported in front of a dizzying array of screens and buttons, too many to have any idea where they connect and how they work. Michael turns to meet the faces of the MCC Admins, each one looking at him with odd, concerned expressions and furrowed brows. 

“You shot your teammate,” one says - Noxite - and Michael nods to concede the point, not quite finding the words to speak. “Why?”

“If you had such a big issue with the teams, you could’ve just talked to Scott,” another one pipes up from the back, “I’m sure we could’ve worked something out.”

“I know, I know,” Michael runs his hand through his hair, both relieved at the plan working better than he could’ve ever fucking imagined and suddenly lost for words in front of the admins, each one looking at him with their full attention. Every nerve in his body rails against the scrutiny, reminds him to pretend that nothing is wrong - but it’s too late to pretend, now. It’s been too late for a long, long time. 

He remembers Dream, looking away all competition, voice dead and lacking all of its former vitality - remembers Puffy, hair a little greyer from stress, grief painting her face whenever she thought anyone wasn’t looking - remembers Bad, hands still shaking despite his attempts to hide it - the prison, looming on the horizon, unbeatable, impenetrable - himself, helpless, for all this time, to do anything but watch and wait. Until now. He takes a deep breath, steels himself- 

“Something’s wrong with Dream.”)

“Thank you for your information, Michael,” Noxite smiles at him, and relief throws itself through his system so fast that it makes him dizzy- “We’ll handle this from here. Good job.” 

“Holy shit- when did you get time to contact the fucking admins, Michael?” 

Michael ignores the clamor around him as the lobby bursts into activity and people talking over each other, each one probably trying to figure out what the hell just happened, ignores Sapnap muttering, awed, from beside him, to move towards Dream, still sprawled out over the floor. There’s an admin by him, standing by to seemingly keep the crowd away but not engaging with Dream directly, and Michael ducks by them to kneel down by Dream and meet his gaze. 

“Hey,” Michael smiles, still shaking from the leftover adrenaline as he presses his hands to the ground to try and hide it, “We’ve got you. It’s over- Quackity’s gone. You’re safe now.” 

“Michael?” Dream’s voice is so damn small when his head twists to look over, hair having fallen largely fallen out of his ponytail to land in wisps all around his face. “You- how-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael shushes him, chest twisting painfully. “It’s alright.”

“...I don’t feel so good.”

Dream coughs harshly, and Michael quickly maneuvers him to a sitting position as his shoulders shake with another one, hand flying to his mouth as he is wracked with loud, wet-sounding coughs. Concern wells up in his throat, watching as Dream shakes with more coughing, nearly choking as he curls into himself, muscles tense. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls his hand back, and Michael gasps at the sight.

“Dream-”

There’s blood, and a lot of it - mixed with the saliva in his palm, shiny and stringy over the planes of his hand, dribbling past his lips and down his chin. His teeth are similarly stained red when his mouth opens slightly, stance wobbling before he collapses altogether against Michael’s body - Michael can barely hear himself shouting for a medic as Dream heaves a rattling, wet sounding breath into his shoulder. 

“Th’ts not g’d,” he mumbles, quiet, before going completely limp. 

---

When you first get strong enough to go to the Nether and collect blaze rods and brew potions for the first time, the first thing that gets beaten into your head forwards, backwards, left, right, and every way in between is that health and regen aren’t a replacement for actual recovery. Instant health pots are famous for their tendency to heal everything affected to the same degree - which is bad when you have a particularly deep injury, as it’ll often finish healing it near the surface while the injury persists underneath. Regen pots tend to be better at that front, but even they cannot completely fix a serious injury - the two can only act as a temporary, emergency fix for severe wounds, often being an invaluable resource to stop the worst of the bleeding and hold everything together for long enough to bring someone to proper medical attention. 

Unfortunately, when someone tries to use health pots and regens to completely bypass the time and rest needed for the body to properly heal itself and recover, what usually ends up happening is internal injuries - not completely healed by the potions alone - continue to be jostled and irritated, which can lead to further, worse, problems with internal bleeding and bones shifting out of place if they’ve been broken, which can then pierce through muscle and organ tissue - to be honest, Michael was never the best with all the medical stuff, and he’s half-sure that the horror stories he’s heard were exaggerated to beat it into his head never to be an idiot that thinks that potions can solve everything, but either way, he’s never tested his luck with the things.

Unfortunately, Dream doesn’t seem to have done the same, as the entire day’s worth of intense activity, between practices and MCC itself, were more than enough to fuck over the healing effects of whatever health potions he apparently downed before coming to the Championships. From what Michael has heard, it got a little harried after he was first brought into the hospital, but he’s apparently stabilized since - recovery will be slow, both physically and mentally, but at least he’s out of that damn prison to actually start on that path.

“Simply put, your teammate is a bit of an idiot,” Scott tells him when he finally catches him in the waiting room, hair fluffed up at the sides from where he’s evidently messed it up in Admin-related stress. “But he should be alright now, with proper medical attention and lots of rest - make sure to tell him to actually rest, will ya? No more parkouring for him - he can wait until after he’s out of the hospital to show us all how it’s done.” 

Michael laughs, relief settling into his chest, “Thanks, Scott.” He directs a playfully accusing look towards the other, a grin tugging at his lips, “but you know, he’s only my teammate because you made it that way. Kinda sounds like your own fault there..” 

“Oh, quiet, you.” Scott laughs- he looks stressed, and Michael feels a twinge of sympathy. The administrative side of things after his whole stunt at Dodgebolt, and then especially with what happened in the main lobby, must be an absolute nightmare. “Anyway, I need to go back - Admin meeting,” he shakes his head, already looking at his comm. “You should go see Dream, by the way. I think he’s awake.” 

“Thanks for everything, Scott.” 

Scott smiles at him, soft, sincere. “Go see your friend.” 

He disappears in a flash of white light, teleporting away, and Michael looks at the empty space where he stood for a few seconds before standing up out of his chair to move towards the door. He hesitates at it for a second, hand on the doorknob but not yet turning it to the side - it’s suddenly awkward, without the pressure of the competition at his back and the relentless questions of what he should do. He doesn’t even know if Dream knows what happened, or if he’ll be happy with him - for all he knows, Dream was the one who started the whole ‘don’t tell the Championships what happens in the server’ deal. His teeth catch on his lip as he stands, lost in thought, at the door.

Well. Here goes nothing. 

He eases the door open, getting a glimpse inside the room - it’s white, clean-looking, the smell of disinfectant heavy in the air. There’s a bed in the middle of the room, a chair on the side with his Championships clothing and what appears to be some sort of padded body armor laid over the cushions. Dream, as expected, is lying down in the bed, unmoving; for a second, Michael thinks he’s sleeping, before he suddenly twists his head over to look at him.

“Michael?” 

“Hey,” Michael smiles, moving into the room and closing the door behind him. For the first time today, Dream’s face isn’t masked, a glimpse of it visible behind him on the dresser by the bed. He blinks up at him owlishly, eyes wide and green, looking even bigger combined with the hollow planes of his cheeks, overlaid by pale, slightly raised scars. “How are you feeling, man?” 

“Um-” Dream tries to pull himself up, visibly struggling, and Michael rolls his eyes as he hurries over to help raise the back of the cot because you’re supposed to be resting, Dream, just let the fancy bed do its job, and settles back with an odd look on his face as Michael pulls over a chair. “Good? I think? I mean-” he flails his hands a bit, “this is weird. And I kind of hate this gown- but um. Yeah.” 

“That’s fair,” Michael laughs, and Dream huffs a small laugh out of his own, settling back into his pillow. He looks strangely small, with all the layers stripped away, frail and skinny against the sheets. His skin isn’t that same paper-white shade it had been when he collapsed in the middle of the fucking lobby, but it’s still pale enough to be vaguely worrying, especially combined with the IV and other wires hooked up to him. 

“Apparently, I’m dehydrated,” Dream drawls when he catches Michael staring at the IV, making a small, frustrated sound through his teeth as Michael turns to look at him, “figures, I guess, but still sucks. I hate needles.” 

“Ouch,” Michael winces in sympathy, “yeah, those don’t look that fun.” Dream smiles up at him, before his expression shutters, dulls, and he looks away, not meeting his eyes. The sight of it makes Michael frown, quiet, remembering the way he’d drawn back from them all over and over again throughout the day - that fear and trauma won’t go away in a day, but it hurts all that much more to see his face as panic flashes across it and he pulls back, gaze carefully detached. 

“Dream?” Michael moves closer, but is careful not to make contact, “you alright?”

“Hmm?” Dream directs another small, tight smile his way, strained at the corners as his eyes flick away to the floor once again, “yeah- I’m- I’m fine.” 

Michael sighs, but decides not to push it. “Have you done anything else here, yet?”

Dream shakes his head. “No- I think that someone’s going to bring food over soon, I’m not sure. Not really hungry,” he mutters, half to himself, and Michael tamps down the concern that wells up in protest, “But we’ll see, I guess.” 

“That’s good,” Michael nods, and Dream looks up at him, expression startlingly unsure. 

“Um- do you know?” He wrings his hands together, eyes darting across the room nervously before flicking over Michaels’ face, and Michael tries to make himself look as calm and comfortable as possible, “I mean- do you know what’s going on with- everyone?” 

Ah. Michael winces internally- he probably should’ve expected this question, but in the fallout of what happened in the lobby and Dream, you know, passing out in his arms, he ended up brushing off or ignoring a lot of the chaos that resulted. He wracks his head for snippets of information that he’d seen in his communicator and from visitors to the waiting room, including people that had been there with him that had been pulled for questioning and meetings, Tommy’s expletive-filled yelling from the lobby still ringing in his head. 

“Um- I think that they’ve got a team of moderators pulled up to investigate the server, figure out what’s been going on,” Michael ticks names off on his hands, mentally going through the list of people that he’s been given information on, “They have Quackity in custody, I think, for the moment- they’re still waiting for more information on what to do with him, but they’ve got a whole MCC lobby’s worth of witnesses that saw him assault you so far, if you plan on pressing charges and stuff- um- Sapnap got pulled for questioning, nothing too major right now, I think that they’re going through the other server members that were attending the Championships for the moment.” 

“Are they- putting them in jail?” Dream’s voice sounds slightly tinny despite his forced calm, arms crossed in front of him, and Michael shakes his head firmly. 

“No- legal stuff between servers is weird, and I think they’re holding off on anything like that for now. Quackity’s just there at the moment because of assault charges on the MCC server - stuff in the SMP is still technically outside of their jurisdiction.” Dream visibly relaxes, and Michael smiles thinly, “It’ll be rough for a few weeks as they collect evidence and figure out what to do, but for now, they’re just focusing on recovery - giving people medical attention if they need it, lining up therapists,” he laughs, quietly, “lots of therapists.”

Dream hums, looking away. The corners of his mouth fall, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes a shuddery sigh through his lips.

“I- never wanted it to get this bad,” he opens his eyes, looking down at his hands, lip slightly trembling, “I don’t- I don’t know where it all went wrong.” 

“Hey,” Michael slides closer, ducking to meet Dream’s eyes with a soft smile. “You’re not alone anymore, alright? You don’t have to fix it all by yourself. Focus on yourself, on recovering.” 

Dream hesitates, breath seeming caught in his throat, wide green eyes staring into Michael’s own, before ducking his head to look away with a slight nod. Michael leans back in his chair, watching as Dream turns to the side, curling in on himself slightly with a small wince, eyes fixed on the window.

“Didn’t think I was going to see the sun again,” Dream says after a while, gaze still trained behind the glass to where the sun is slowly setting, rays of sunlight streaming past the slits in the blinds and casting glowing stripes of honey-gold throughout the room and over Dream’s face. Michael feels something cold press against the back of his throat, the quiet admission making air stutter in his lungs at the image of Dream, alone, huddled in the middle of an obsidian box for months and months and months, never knowing if he’d see anything other than the same black walls for the rest of his life. 

“You’re not there, anymore. You’re safe now.” 

Dream doesn’t reply, continuing to look out the window silently, breathing slowly as he moves his hand through a sunbeam, watching the way it streams between his fingers and warms his skin, seeming mesmerized by its soft glow. 

“Michael?” Dream looks over, and Michael feels the air punched out of his lungs at the soft, disbelieving sincerity held within his expression, the fearful edges for once pulled back far enough for the light to catch the quiet, heartfelt appreciation gathered in the slight quirk of his lips and downward slope of his eyes. He looks away a second after, a band of light cutting across his face and landing over the bridge of his nose, smile still on his face, voice almost too quiet to make out. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Michael feels his own smile widen, looking out the window himself- it really is a beautiful sunset. “What are friends for?” 

#-> my writing #my writing :D #c!Quackity critical #tw trauma #tw abuse #tw torture #tw panic attack #tw manipulation #tw gaslighting #tw needles #tw hospitals #tw emotional distress #pandora's vault #prison arc #god this was so fun #hope you all enjoy !! #long post

[lostjulys]

anyway since it's 430 am and no one is awake i am not going to share my lore hot takes but I WILL say that i do have lore hot takes specifically regarding how ccs view lore & view story on the dsmp.... i think fundamentally (with a few exceptions notably quackity wilbur tommy) most ccs did not join the server with the intention of creating a narrative or do not view it as a medium for storytelling for its own sake which intrinsically affects the way story progresses the way story is viewed... i think a lot of it. falls flat. or has plotholes or is narratively brushed over because the creators r doing it for fun content and clout not narrative creation. anyway specifically ive gotten rlly back into critrole and other actual play podcasts and what really fucking struck me is like. the visibly deep care and love and affection these creators have For the world and story they create... i can't help listening to campaign sky/jacks and hearing the gm's lovely, evocative descriptions of settings and places that are just. clearly overflowing with love for the world they created and have so much time and thought and imagination and effort put into them and compariing it to the dsmp where doomsday bbh destroying the prime path the unused mansion etc are some of the more recent lore builds.. this imo is why dsmpblr has such an attachment to the genuinely meaningful historical builds like tommys house lmanberg snowchester etc... i feel like a lot of the ccs. don't realize how much a fucking Lot of people love lore and are genuinely invested in the storytelling.. anyway what inspired this post was me buying a $60 critrole sweater with knit patterns based off one of my favorite characters & realizing they named their merch store after an in-universe magical items shop that's well-beloved by both players and viewers and thinking. damn. that's really fucking cool! i love that!! i love seeing a gilmore's glorious goods receipt in my inbox!!! i rlly would pay actual money for in-universe dsmp merch. a lot of people would! it's something ive seen talked about a lot in dsmpblr! the ccs would make a lot of money off badlands themed merch or in-universe las nevadas merch!! i genuinely don't know why they had this lovely gorgeous story going and then just like... dropped it? it could have been so much? idk. i'm sleepy. it just makes me sad to like. love a story so much and know that maybe... a handful of its creators love it too. idk have been consuming more books & media created with intent lately & realizing hey it kind of sucks writing pages of analysis over the symbolism of lilies of the valley as forgiveness as this beautiful bittersweet motif of flowers that runs through ctommys storyline only to realize hey he just grabbed whatever was nearest. the lily of the valley was actually just a flower mumza gave phil. it was just convenient. yeah puffy threw her entire character arc out the window to join the syndicate. yeah ctubbo and techno are friends now. like idk man if im gonna spend time and love and brain juice etc thinking so hard about a piece of media i at least want it to be a story that's created with love for it. yk??

#soery this is messy complicated im sleepy. #not leaving or anything!! have been thinking this for several months now. nothing new #but like. yeah. idk. does that make sense? #discourse #??

[give-grian-rights]

y’know, being told stuff about what’s happening on the smp and wanting to either puke or cry probably isn’t a healthy reaction

i haven’t been able to watch dsmp content in like three months. i’ve watched a few technoblade streams but thats it

its not like. its to dark and i can’t stand it. no. i just. know that these characters i fucking as emotionally invested in for fucking... six? months? probably putting in at LEAST 80 hours into watching, writing, and talking about and then watch everything fall apart h u r t s

i miss hamilton drug rp. i love dream smp. i want to watch ranboo because i.. basically have never watched a full stream of his but he’s great. but also please making heavily lore-based content within a streaming format is actually gonna fucking kill me

i just CANNOT sit and watch full streams. i cannot shake and sideglance at my computer during dinner because i might be missing a moment in the history of dsmp. i cannot sit there under a thick blanket while sweating just so i can hide my phone and watch a stream.

i just fucking want every dream smp member to post their vods. i want to see people be able to edit them into manageable episodes. thats what i wanted to do back in August or so with Tubbo, and last i looked he’s still missing SO MANY OF HIS VODS.

seriously please. fu. fucking. this is what i miss wilbur for the most. edited down videos. i still watched every  stream vod before hand but i don’t need to rewatch them now because i have the videos.

its.. unreasonable that you have to watch probably three or four streams a day to keep up on lore and storylines and details. especially when these are streams anywhere from 2-8 hours long.

I think that every Stream should eventually be edited into a video. Include the lore. include the comedy. give us some simple editing. give us the fucking highlights please before i have a nervous breakdown

#dream smp's formatting is critically flawed in it's current state #this past year i put more of my life and my emotional energy into block men than myself and seeing bad shit happen to them #and seeing these characters get hurt or off-course is just. upsetting?? #i don't fucking know. i don't want to watch the streams or the vods. thats more content. i cant. i dont have the motivation #i don't want to watch the vods or the streams or take the effort to sit down and look for them and then sit through hundreds of hours #karl is the only exception to this and i do plan on going back soon #but i just. please. my head hurts. #dsmp critical #dream smp critical #but not really since i.. have been here since before sad-ist animatics and before niki. since the hto dog van. #i just. please. it feels like it spiraled into WAY to much #seriously.. consider the hermitcraft approach. improved but planned meetings and calls during video recordings and planned encounters #but imrpvoed lines and outcomings. make it recordings. no music or chat or donatoins on the screen or overlays. a recording. #FUCKING DO THE JOE HILLS APPROACH. stream with facecam and read out the donations or whatever else but plan segments where you stop #turn it all off and record a clip #its not staged but its planned. you get on the call. you know its happening. and then.. you still have fucking vods of the funny good shit #dsmp #dream smp #dsmpblr #mika-posts #dream smp rant #dsmp rant

[sapphire-innit]

Saddest Beach Party Ever :(

Watch out for this one folks, it gets a bit dark -- mind the tags (though nothing outside of what you'd expect for.. this episode)

VOD: Tommy Is Left ALONE at his Exile Party with Dream (Start - 35:30)

(rp) I have Absolutely been putting off watching this one because I WILL cry and I am scared

I can't imagine what it was like to watch live and see NO ONE on the beach

He's keeping up a good face, adding more chairs... I'm not looking forward to it setting in.

like fuck man, fuck Dream for chasing of Ghostbur for MULTIPLE reasons but also because no one else even KNEW about the party :(

He's so excited about maybe seeing Tubbo I hate it Thanks

and now he's putting things down for Quackity and adding more things he's still so happy and excited (though you can occasionally see the mask break - there's a lot of nervous energy here)

"Where... no, well go place this" "why did Fundy leave the game" THANKS I HATE IT

Lazer and Fundy have been some of the people who have visited toooo :(

Tommy's face when no one is on the nether path.............. ouch

.............................................................................................

log off right now green demon

log off RIGHT NOW

just stewing in silence ..... painful....

cc!Tommy really is one of the best actors on the server, this hurts quite a bit

............

I know that's Dream joining the call and I hate it

fuck

"I'm running a little late, sorry :)" >:|

fuck, Tommy apologized and tossed his armor immediately INCLUDING HIS GIFT SHOES AND AXE, Dream didn't even ask

Dream of course taking the chance to be '''''''benevolent''''.... probably as a reward for Tommy doing it immediately and without prompting >:|

and ofc Dream just straight up lies about the invites to rub salt into the wound. Cant have Tommy thinking people CARE ABOUT HIM OR ANYTHING.

Even mentioned Tubbo SPECIFICALLY YOU BASTARD "in L'manburg" was that truly necessary bastard

the sun setting... a symbol of hope... the symbol of their friendship.... disappearing into the ocean... I hate it :(

Dream pushing him into eating the cake.. "I've lost my appetite"

just digging in that Tubbo For Sure got the Invite Definitely and no one came except Dream.

"I didn't mind being a little bit late because I thought everyone else would be here" why did he keep pointing out he was late, kept hammering that point home. Like even Dreams attention is not important to Dream? like it has to be earned maybe ..?

"No one cares about me anymore" "that's not true" *BREAKS CAKE* "None of them care about me anymore"

IS HE BREAKING THE PATH OHNOOO ;-;

"No one cares... other than You(Derogatory)"

"Maybe they had something more important" I hate how Dream hides his digs behind sounding consoling it fucking SUCKS

I hate how depressed he sounds, how resigned

....threw away the chicken, and he isn't eating or healing. I knew to watch out for it but its never been this pronounced before. He's down to three hearts ;-;

"I'm pretty sure he burned it, or lost it" I do not believe that for a SECOND Dream, or at least its not as clear cut as it seems. Tubbo CARES ABOUT TOMMY, I *JUST SAW* a clip of him holding the compass aaaaa

ohno

"at least SOMEONE on this entire 30 person server got an invite" "He said he was going to give it to at least 13 people, and at least one person I saw give it in person"

ohno

ohnooooooooooo

he really is gonna toss the compass isn't he nooooooooo

...............

staring into the lava again. "he burned it. On purpose"

Dream quibbling ... but doubling down i hate it

.......its just... so clear he's not only thinking about the compass in lava

Dream shooting at the Ghast,,, telling Tommy to sleep on it, coaxing him back from the edge "almost fell off, careful Tommy" I hate it here

"I don't sleep anymore Dream" "I just want to go home" "Please can I go home" he sounds so broken ;A;

"why can't I stay" :( :( :(

"It's not like they want you anyway Tommy. No one showed up to your party and everyone was invited" And THIS is why Dream tanked the party on purpose. Because if Tommy thinks no one even wants him, he won't even try to get back, and will just stay under Dreams control. There's such a mental and emotional difference and toll from "Outside forces (Dream) are keeping me from going home and maybe I can subvert or change them" and "Home doesn't want me and they're better off without me"

It truly is creepy how Dream is trying to coax him with the Christmas tree, like he's trying to pull this balancing act because he can tell Tommy is on the edge of really giving up and I hate it so much

He still hasn't eaten

"c'monn you want to see the Christmas tree :)" overwriting his feelings as well ugh

"I'm sure if you asked them, they'd say they care about you" I see you invalidating any future concern someone might show him

ALSO TOMMY CALLING EXILE HOME IS SURE SOMETHING

.....him asking Dream to defend him is... painful. Especially having just watched the latest stream where he asked the same of Tubbo right after being triggered as hell ugh. He really has gotten used to being made helpless and depending on Dream, even on the one day he didn't get his armor and weapons taken away from him. He sounds so resigned :(

(( LOL OK THE DNF JOKE WAS PRETTY FUNNY THO))

he's bribing him with the trident and I hate it. Though at least hes enjoying it??? Mixed feelings on that. He ate too and I hate that Dreams honeymoon stage is w o r k i n g )

that is the most sincere I have ever heard Tommy say Dream cares about him and it FUCKING SUCKS

I know we never could have had "Happy Party AU" because Dream never would have allowed people to come and validate Tommy but man Trident tricks w everyone would have been nice

...lol someone pointed out the red looks like blood. the fake girlfriend bits are so Weird

Dream what do you GET out of this, why are you so OBSESSED. He spends so much time here

"I wont bring it up with them because that would be awkward" oof and I bet he won't believe it if anyone says they didn't get the invite will he oof

.. He pulls out the Axe but lets dream actually kill the skeleton, he already put it away before Dream even got on screen how many times do i have to say THANKS I HATE IT HERE before it becomes meaningless

So this was around the point (or maybe a little bit later, but talking about this point) during dsmp where I started seeing it cross my dash without any context and saw a lot of takes about "oh but they didn't get the invite" and I had NO IDEA why Tommy was so upset about what was clearly a misunderstanding or why he was making it such a big deal.... well I get it now

Tommy really really isn't in a place where he can believe someone when they say they didn't get an invite. And it Really Truly WAS a big deal and actually I'm 100% on Tommy's side on this issue now (though I also don't blame the other characters for this: See Big Green Bastard Man who is truly at fault) I can understand completely why he throws it in their face later though

He's doubting if he wants to go back now.. that was exactly the point of it all :(

"Thanks for letting me keep my armor today btw" I hate how sincere Tommy is about this. I hate how Dream has so effectively done this, where Tommy sees it as a FAVOR that Dream doesn't come and blow up all of his things and hard work and THANKS him for it.

People much smarter than me have pointed out how 1:1 this is to real abusive relationships and how well its portrayed. I don't have anything clever or insightful to say here I guess, just that its exhausting and heavy to watch (but also really powerful as well, because we DON'T see shit like this played this realistically, or in this much accurate detail)

I just want Tommy to be out of here safely and realize what is being done to him is WRONG and not his fault and be given a chance to actually heal. I know the likelihood of that in the future, considering whats to come, is also. complicated to say the least.

#dream smp #dream smp liveblog #dsmp exile arc #tommyinnit #c!dream critical #dreamwastaken #abuse tw #gaslighting tw #suicide tw #depression tw

[shoezuki]

I'm going to sound like an ass but I'm so happy c!Tommy died, like I ate some leftover chicken in celebration. With Tommy dead, people will be forced to see that the smp doesn't revolves around him, that he's just a character like everyone else and that without him the story still continues.

I hope that cc!Tommy takes a breaks for a while, or at the very least if he's going to do ghostinnit pulls a Wilbur and appear only on other people's streams. It would make the people who only watch Tommy's pov have to watch different people for lore, it might get the fandom to stop treating Tommy like he's the main character, which would be great cause there are no main characters just preferred perspectives.

Also he ruined the little progress Dream had made (I was so excited for that goddamnit) and killed a cat, mean little shit. Also it might wake up people to the fact that Tommy did cause a lot of conflict, but I sadly doubt it.

The only bad I see from this is the fandom;

1. glossing over the cat and just how fucked up that was of Tommy. Trauma or the cycle of abuse are not even close to exsuces, he fucken keep hitting it then killed it just be a dick. Hold him fully accountable and don't downplay this, this was straight up evil of him, arguably he worse thing he has done as of yet.

2. The new wave of Philza stuff with people talking about how much he's going to regret not fathering Tommy dispite him not being his son

3. Even more Technoblade hate that's somehow worse because of his favor he owes to Dream. Like I just saw a post on how Philza should be killed in front of him then excused by "peer pressure" (Techno was surrounded and had no support, stalled for as long as possible, it's not like he wanted to so it) so he'd "understand" pain and loss, blocked them on sight, but still holy shit.

⸺ Rat ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

lkahf;lkhaf yea like i Feel you im Nearly in the same boat but like. kinda?

the entire ‘getting locked in prison’ type arc or whatever was Weird to me n considering that tommy said Before he was gon tap out and back down a bit. like the disc war finale felt FINALE n like? i thought that was fine and dandy. a win for the lads then tommy can jus chill and Not have such a pivotal/main character type role. 

n i was SO GLAD for that. him buildin a hotel w sam and being hunted down by niki and jack and poking at the egg a bit n all that wasnt like. he wasnt the Pivotal point in those as much. considering he’d had a Huge impact in other ppls stories he couldnt jus Disappear. 

i did NOT understand why him being locked in prison was like. a thing. i didnt get it narratively. like idk what to have expected i thought itd jus be like. more downtime for tommy then Bam angst angst big lore oh no INTENSE. 

him dying is like. especially at dream’s hand. i feel its a double edged sword. like you say i REALLY HOPE itll mean things wont circle around him. more notice and attention can be given to the egg arc. and ESPECIALLY w how jack has been going on w today’s events like holyfuck man’s really goin OFF. tommy dying was narratively the best outcome him like jack manifold stans r losin their minds on my dash today

but ALSO. the reactions instilled within the fandom have really shown a like. exactly what i figured. like him Dying is now gonna cloud so many other characters n perceptions a those characters. we see it w phil n techno like mans wasnt even on dsmp he was on his hardcore world n had ppl all in his chat bout how his ‘son’ is dead lkshglsdhg

and this weird. like. i dont know if martyrdom is the right term for it? but like i LITERALLY hadnt seen Any mentions of tommy killing the cat. and that is Very fucked up. like IF tommy hadnt done that then to me it seemed dream had killed tommy Suddenly with no reasoning. and as fucked as it was to kill tommy, WITH the context of him killing dream’s cat like.... it makes so much more sense. like still fucked he died, but in this sense his death was direct and instant retribution for his own actions. 

and why the FUCK r ppl so nasty w techno????? mans not done shit??? he aint streamed or done Lore in a while now Especially not in reference to tommy??? like oh my GOD keep his name out ur mouth. 

like. as we seen everywhere too. they probably gon revive him in some way sometime. n considering how Talked Up that is its seems itll be regarded as the ‘main plot’ or some shit. largely overshadow other things. i want tommy to Not be revived. if he comes back like ghostbur, cool. mans chillin. but he should be dead for at Least a bit for the smoke to settle n so other ppl and plots can Work their way Out.

#i got distracted halfway thru n lost my train of thought kshglkhsgh #i havent seen the clips in particular of him gettin killed #but i should #anyways uh mogami arc 2! #rat anon #hard boiled takes #mcyt #anon #dream smp spoilers

[robinisaghost]

animatic ideas :0 (ramble away, i would love to hear them!!)

mk thank you for enabling me, i will now be yelling

anyway

this is gonna be so obnoxiously long i am so sorry

can you add read more's on asks? eeeekkkk because this got so damn long lmao

mild dsmp spoilers obviously

this is the playlist, by the way

-im sorry boris (wilbur soot)

i think it would work really well with mmm slightly post lmanburg niki. andby slightly i mean. well when she leaves (that is the whole thing of the song gdfjkhgsdf) also side note at like 1 minute 11 on that song theres a discord notification really subtly in the background and it makes me paranoid every time i hear it. anyway god its such a nice song. even for just like. the end of lmanburg. not necesarily paired with a character, just the sense of leaving a place that was so highly populated before it got blown up twice and was like. the main part of the smp. yeah. anyway also the lines "they'll knock down the pubs before helping you...they'll let you jump under trains before helping you" yeah those four lines have big niki vibes but also i think the song could work well with exile tommy or actually even with the finale when tubbo is about to sacrifice himself? mmmmm yeah

-this is home (cavetown)

mmmm got exile tommy vibes innit. a lot of these have exile tommy vibes tbf i just like sad songs and also exile tommy. plus the song has a lot of like. the message is sort of like. changing yourself to appeal to others? like with "ill cut my hair to make you stare" but also the repeated thing of "ill figure out a way to get us out of here" which is clearly the main character of the song trying to help everyone when they are clearly not in a good way themself. yeah thats got big tommy vibes in general tbh but more like. pre finale tommy. i think he got a bit more independant after that.

-soldier poet king (the oh hellos)

ok this is self explanatory and has been done to death already but d a m n its kinda funky. anyway i had thoughts and actually started this but then lost motivation and deleted it all lmaooo. the only proof of its existance is a shitty storyboard in my draw which will hopefully never see the light of day again (unless anyone wants to see it :eyes:) anyway i had the thought of like. sbi? so soldier techno poet wilbur and king tommy. but tbf tommy and techno are kinda interchangeable with that, cos while techno is obviously the better fighter, tommy is used a lot, especially in lmanberg era and also i think he probably will be now that wilburs back

-pyjama pants (cavetown)

ok so i honestly dont remember why this is on the playlist but tbf this could go well with a bunch of characters. thinking like. phil and wilbur? or wil and tommy, or tubbo and ranboo are two that like. i know for a fact that i did not put the song on the playlist specifically for them but god thinking about it now it works so well with them

-boys will be bugs (cavetown)

OH BOY THERES A LOT OF CAVETOWN ON HERE HUH (i feel like that probably says something about me but shhhhhh we dont need to talk about that) ANYWAY

I think this could probably work really well with tommy? because of the whole like. trying really hard to come across as not caring about others, but really being like. very vunerable. but at the same time it could go really well with wilbur for the same reasons. also the song fucks ok cant deny it. to be fair i think it works better with tommy, because he's younger and also he really likes bugs (unless i am mistaken) which is just a cool coincidence but still)

-brother (kodaline)

FUCKKKKKKKKKKK THIS WORKS SO WELL WITH SO MANY CHARACTERS AND IS ALSO ***SO ANGSTY*** WHAT

anyway

i added it because of tommy and tubbo because holy shit, but also it could work very very well with wilbur and tommy, techno and wilbur, probably techno and tommy, and oh my god i just thought of this but this would work so well with phil and techno!!!! but yeah i originally thought tommy and tubbo because i thought it was a funny coincidence with exile tommy waking up underwater, and theres a line that says "if you were drowned at sea, id give you my lungs so you could breathe" and like. just thinking about the compasses especially. me gusta.

-feel better (penelope scott)

fundy. that is all.

no ok this works well with fundy but also probably karl sapnap and quackity, and also very much wilbur, like it works well with both. just mainly fundy idk why its got big fundy vibes tho. very poggers.

-as the world caves in (matt maltese)

ok but like this goes very very well with the explosions of lamberg. either of them. i think probably the first one is better, but i think it goes well with both. probably the first one, because it was way more emotional i think? cos it was the first time that their homes had been destroyed and everything, but also because it was so personal, because wilbur was the one who did it. i think that also it would work well if it was set during the explosion but also focussed on different facets? so like. one bit about wilburs perspective, one bit about tommys, one about phils, one about fundys maybe? idk just a bunch of lmaburg citizens' povs for this. its good. as the world caves in is a song that can be so gender tbh.

-do you hear the people sing? (les mis)

obvious obvious obvious...... but like..... also tbh it goes well with a bunch of things. like, mmmmm wilbur in pogtopia. the butcher army. lmaburg independance war (obviously ghdskj) but yeah. also this song just goes so hard like b r u h

-wolf in sheeps clothing (set it off, william beckett)

SO MANY OF THESE ARE LIKE. PRETTY OBVIOUS IF YOUVE HEARD THE SONG

but yeah. it would go so well with like. well any betrayal basically. so eret, from tommys pov maybe, or about wilbur from nikis pov, or wilbur from anyone pov tbf, or quackity from charlie/purpled/foolish/sams pov, or sam from tommys pov, really it works well with so many people which says a lot about the characters tbh but shhhhhhhhhhhh

-need you here (idkhow)

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

mk mk mk mk FUNDY AND WILBUR THO

like b r u h that works so well with them

also i started this one as well but didnt like it, theres a story board in my draw as well for it because like. oh my god its such a good idea i just am shit at animating and don't have a decent enough program :')

also also

the line "daddy has to go, and that makes me sad, but daddy will always come back, he promised" fuckkkkkk that works so well with like. say for example, idk, when they're celebrating schlatts death and wilbur leaves to press the button? the sheer fucking angst of that is enough to kill any one person istg that is in fact the entire reason why i started the animatic in the first place. just that line. also all the lines sung by the child voice. fuckin angsty as hell. also ust generally a banging song, as is every idkhow song

-green (cavetown)

another cavetown song huh. ok sure.

mk so wilbur and sally and fundy. like. for a start, the imagry of a fish at the start? boom sally.

anyway the lines "you looked so good in green, i hope you're well, and you look so good with him, (schlatt ig?) and I'm proud of you still (wilburrrr and fundyyyy) i miss your perfect teeth, i was too blunt, i hope you feel happy, that's all I want"

FUCKKKK

the whole song is about missing someone you used to love and only hoping the best for them!!!! and wishing that they are happy and safe!!!!!!!!!!! and hoping they still think about you!!!!! but even if they dont its fine because all you want is for them to be happy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

-achilles come down (gang of youths)

OK I THOUGHT IT COULDNT GET ANGSTIER

so like. tw suicide but thats what the entire song is about and bing bang boom i just think it works so so so so so so so well with not only exile tommy (who obviously did try to kill himself) but also wilbur in a slightly more metaphorical way? so like. his self destructive habits leading him to a point where he had no choice other than to kill himself and to take his country down with him. and its all about other characters trying to help them and persuade them not to but also near the end there is a second voice trying to persuade them to go along with it, which im thinking like. if its wilbur, either dream or maybe just himself. his own brain persuading him to continue down the path that would inevitably lead to his and his countries destruction. also it works well with schlatt for the same reasons, except he doesnt want to die. maybe (since the song is so goddamn long) like. one verse for tommy one for wilbur and one for schlatt? dead gang poggg but also like. the verses cover fairly different things which work with one character but not so much the others, for example the first verse would be tommy because its mainly about persuading the person to not kill themself (which tommy did himself but shhh) the second for schlatt because its literally about drinking and smoking away your problems, and the third for wilbur since its more of a fight between the "good" and the "bad" sides, which is obviously what wilbur was experiencing. also obviously i have a soft spot for this song because its string instruments and french, basically my favourite combination ever (also i like his voice idfk lmao)

ANYWAY THATS ALL THE SONGS ON THERE SO FAR

i literally thought of another song while i was in the shower today but i dont remember which it was but a n y w a y the playlist will most definitely be getting longer, especially since there are so many more songs that are good for this but i just havent added them yet lmao. anyway ive been writing this for like an hour gsdfjhgdhfsg but still oh my god this was fun to write

#long post #tw suicide #only a mention at the end but still gotta be safe :) #dsmp #dreamsmp #dsmp animatics #robin talks #ask #thank you so much for the ask tho cos like. i dont wanna be annoying or anything? but also like. i really wanted to talk about this gsdfkjg #god i hope the read more worked or this is gonna be annoying to everyone ever #its fine probably maybe not really

[sapienap]

1) 3-7 favourite songs

2) 3 songs that have helped you

3) three favourite characters and why

aaah oh my god okay anon these r probably not my FAVORITE songs but they r the ones coming to mind

saline solution by wilbur soot (fav)

stupid for you by waterparks

remember when by wallows

OK by wallows

bad idea! by girl in red

little lion man by mumford & sons

broke bitch by tiny meat gang

uhhh i think saline solution is the one that’s probably helped me a ton (n it’s the only one coming to mind) as it’s a sad song but now I’ve associated it with happiness so everytime i feel sad and play it i cry but it makes me feel better :]

OOOOH I LOVE THIS WUESTION :D i won’t do dsmp characters just bc i don’t want it to only be about them

Peter Parker! I have loved him since I was a kid and he’s a huge source of comfort :] He’s such a nice character that he can’t ever truly be evil by himself. He loves to help people and he’s always nice and he really shows how you gotta look out for the smaller people!!! He’s such a nice and fun character and i just. I love him so much

Percy Jackson! I read the PJO series in third grade and he’s been one of my favorite characters ever since then. He’s such a nice and loving character, who has been theough So Much yet he’s gotten through it and still stayed kind, still stayed smart (no matter how much rr fucking dumbed him down) and I just. He’s a huge source of comfort I love him

Sam Winchester!! He’s gone through So Much yet he still stayed kind?? He still wanted to help people?? He went through so much trauma yet he still stayed on top, he still fucking beat the bastards who hurt him, and I just fucking love that for him. He did what he wanted to do (even though eventually he couldn’t any more) and he did his best and I just. I love him so much he’s so nice and still tries to save the world no matter how many times it screwed him over

#anon #asks

[toadcourse]

moving my "i hate dr*am and dr*am stans" thoughts here so my friends can just scroll past it instead of being yelled at over discord against their will. this is literally just for me to vent so if you do read it then like sorry if it looks bad or i dont cite things or whatever i just wanted to scream

its genuinely just the stupidest fucking cycle at this point. dream does something shitty, and then his fans defend him and say he's changed and then a few weeks pass and he just does something else thats shitty. the mfer is in some sort of controversy every other week and not once do these people stop to consider that the common thread between all of dream's scandals is that dream is fucking involved in them.

like genuinely the only content creator(s) i can think of that are involved in a similar amount of scandals are the fucking paul brothers. yknow, the assholes who still regularly stir up shit with anyone they can so that they stay relevant? the same shit dream's doing? which, coincidentally, is also the same shit trump did while he was president?

and if anyone ever brings up the pattern of what dream's done in the past it gets labeled as haters starting shit by bringing up stuff "he's already addressed/apologized for" (blatantly ignoring the fact that 9/10 times the shit he pulls arent things that his audience are in any position to be accepting apologies over but whatever.)

like youd think if he actually gave a shit about changing he would:

stop queerbaiting his audience!

stop publicly going after smaller creators on his streams just because they disagree with him!

stop defensively tweeting about bullshit any time it seems like he might face consequences for something!

do anything to spread/share his fame/wealth with the marginalized communities he used to treat as punchlines and objects!

because at this point it's fucking indisputable that he used to be a bigot, between the r-slur thing, the native american thing, the notch video, and now the "old reddit account was a blatant trump supporter" thing.

the problem now is he has done absolutely jack shit beyond making half-assed apologies either over twitter or in a video, and his actions have done fuck all to back up his words. i dont give a shit about how late it was when he made a fucking twitlonger or how many times hes said "im sorry :(" about something. just speaking purely for myself, i dont want him to keep apologizing for shit! im not just bringing shit up expecting him to "apologize every day of his life" or whatever other stupid shit his fans spout. you think i like seeing him on trending every time he apologizes for something?

i want him to fucking do something. do literally anything tangible about the shit he stirs up. people are constantly saying he's apologized and changed for this shit and i dont see any fucking evidence of it. even without all the proof that his trump-supporting reddit account was his, i would've been willing to bet that it was, because all of the comments on it read exactly the same as the way he tweets.

like. dsmp has been going on for over a year at this point and its grown into this massive thing with 30+ people on it. the only fucking poc on there is quackity, who is a light skinned hispanic. there was a point in time where there were more color blind members than women. and its such a fucking wasted opportunity! and it's not just about representation, its also such a fucking clear sign about where dream + his friend's priorities are.

because either they haven't been looking for more diverse members to add to their group, or they have been and none of them have felt comfortable joining. both options are pretty fucking bad. and neither of them point in the direction of "dream's changed!!!" that all these fans seem to jump on.

like how fucking telling is it that barely a year after his "trump is king build that wall keep out the illegals" tirades on reddit stopped (because the account was banned), he included a character specifically aimed at making fun of mexicans via stereotypes in his stupid fucking minecraft roleplay

and if quackity is comfortable making jokes like that then more power to him. but that doesn't change the fact that dream has a now well documented history of supporting trump and supporting that stupid fucking wall between the us and mexico. and one year later, the only poc in his group is given a role to play in his rp smp that is so fucking reminiscent of minstrelsy. one fucking year between referring to mexicans as "the illegals" and having the only mexican person in his group play the character of "mexican dream" while he makes such hilarious jokes as "i have a cocaine addiction" and "i'm the leader of a gang".

i know that changing your mindset when youve been raised with it is difficult and challenging (and probably even more so when you're a public figure) but like. there is just too much fucking bullshit at this point for me to believe that this is a person making an honest attempt to change and struggling.