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dreamcatcherrs · 1 year

Text

all too well; c!technoblade x reader

!PLEASE READ!

this is an incomplete story I started on last year, and I never managed to finish it and probably won’t as I find it hard to write for techno anymore. but I figured I wouldn’t let the stuff I wrote go completely to waste, so here you go :)

+ based on taylor swift’s “all too well” ten minute ver. but techno actually has a reason to be an asshole unlike jake :)

++ if you know the song, you already know it’s gonna be an angsty and fluffy mess

stepping through the door to his cabin you let out a sigh at the feeling of the sweet warmth of his home surrounding you, quickly closing the door behind you to prevent the cold air from crawling up your neck. the cold from the snowy biome he chose to live in was no joke.

a pair of arms snaked around you from behind, cold lips placing a chaste kiss to your cheek. you giggled.

"mmm, I’m thinking rabbit stew for dinner tonight, whaddya say?" you turned around to face him, swinging your arms over his shoulders with a smile on your face.

"that sounds wonderful." your lips met his, cold and a bit chapped, but soft nonetheless, pulling away shortly after. he pressed his lips into a thin line, blood flowing to his cheeks as the voices went crazy for you in his head. luckily, for him, you couldn’t hear them, or else he’d probably die. he shedded himself from his cape, your eyes lingering on him as he did so, admiring his effortless charm, wondering how you could ever be this lucky.

once shaking yourself out of your daze you reached for the red scarf around your neck, unwrapping it and letting it hang from the railing attached to the stairs along with your thick and wooly coat that protected your body from the icy air outside.

walking into the kitchen, techno was already chopping up the potatoes, white sleeves rolled up to his elbows and hair tied into a bun. the sight alone was breathtaking to you, and he didn’t even know it. you walked over to stand by his side, grabbing the carrots on the counter to start chopping them up. techno glanced at you without moving his head so you wouldn't notice, and you didn’t.

you didn’t notice.

you grunted as you failed at your second attempt of mounting the horse, your leg just not long enough to swing over the saddle. about to try for a third time, a pair of hands landed on your waist, making you halt your movements.

“here, let me help you.” the warmth of techno’s fingers melted through the material of your clothes. you felt your blood rush to your cheeks. you uttered out a small “thanks,” letting him lift you onto the horse with little power needed from you.

you grabbed a hold of the rope attached to the horse to lead and stop him, waiting for techno to get on his horse again, watching as he does so with ease.

“alright, let’s go.”

you wanted to go for a ride together in the forest a few miles away from the snowy cabin you were held up at most of the time, for a change of scenery, or just to spend some peace and quiet time together if you will.

techno turned his head to look at you, seeing if you’d found your way around on the horse, meaning for it to just be a quick glance. but when he saw how you smiled sweetly at the horse as you ran a gentle hand over his fur, he couldnt help but to admire you. your were so… kind-natured. innocent, sweet. completely different from him, yet here you were - his. his heart tugged in his chest as the voices in his head kept repeating compliments aimed towards you.

“techno!”

with a last minute jerk to the rope, techno just about managed to miss falling down the deep ravine one block away from him. he swallowed, looking over at you again as you giggled at him. he recollected himself, moving on ahead of you casually to look calm and collected.

you reached the woods, the snowy path you’d been following slowly disappearing and being replaced by the beautiful array of colours from the autumn leaves. your eyes widened at your colourful surroundings, not having been used to this type of biome since you got into a relationship with techno and stayed with him. and as much as you loved staying with techno in the snowy biome, you still missed what you were used to.

distracted by the scenery, you didn’t notice the creeper sneaking up on you from between the trees.

but your horse did.

kicking his front legs in the air, you screeched, holding on tight to the rope as your horse started running with full speed down the path and away from the creeper. away from techno. now was the time you really wished you knew more about riding a horse. you probably should've listened more when techno helped you learn.

your hair blew back from the powerful wind, eyes squinted as you tried your best to make your horse stop, but despite your effort, nothing seemed to work.

suddenly, a hard tug to the rope you were holding, and everything stood still again, no more cold wind. techno appeared on his horse beside you, pink braid messy from the wind blowing into his face and brows furrowed. he quickly got off his horse, keeping a hold on the rope as he approached you.

“come on, boy, it’s okay. that nerd is far gone.” you laughed a little at his choice of words, noticing a little gunpowder on his hand as he reached out to you. “you okay?” his eyes drooped, a sincere look crossing his face as you placed your hand in his. warm, as always.

“yeah, I’m good. y’know, just glad I didn’t die from that,” you smiled, letting him help you down. he rolled his eyes.

“maybe you're being a bit overdramatic. I don't think you could die from that.”

your brows furrowed, arms crossed over your chest. overdramatic?

he swallowed.

“I mean, y’know, you’re the lover of the blood god, I think you're too strong for such a weak death.”

you squinted your eyes at him and shot him a small glare. he shot you a lopsided smile, letting out a breath once you turned around to get on the horse again.

victory.

he watched you struggle mounting the horse again. “d’you need help with that?”

“no!”

“ah! this is you?”

you picked up the photo from the counter, just in time before he could snatch it away from you. you quickly held it to you, sending him a mischievous smirk as you looked at it. he sighed.

it was a picture from when he was little, barely taller than wilbur who stood beside him in the photo with his arm slung over his shoulders, little tommy peeking at the camera between the two brothers. you felt a pang in your chest as your eyes softened looking at the photo. techno had his long hair in a braid, hanging from his shoulder and down his chest, tusks peeking out from under his upper lip, glaring at will as he pulled him close, a bright smile on the brunettes face. techno’s glasses were the same, but the scar that usually ran down the middle of his eye was yet to be seen.

it was… so precious.

“aww, look at you tech! even back then you hair was in a — braid…”

you turned, looking at techno with a faltering smile, watching as his cheeks and ears glowed a bright red. he itched his neck, keeping his eyes glued to the ground.

“tech? you okay?” you reached out, gentle fingers pushing a strand of hair out of his face, same hand cupping his face to make him look at you. he did, eyes gloomy and brows upturned.

“they hate me.”

your face fell, breath hitching at his words. how could he say that?

“what? honey, they don’t hate you. you’re their brother-“

“brother? what kind of a brother am I, y/n? a good one? a brother who leaves his family behind? I would understand if they aren’t very fond of me.”

your lips parted, eyes open wide as you listened intently, observing his icy orbs.

techno didn’t mean to suddenly unload his emotional baggage on you, but you seeing that photo - it reminded him of why the ones he loved were not in his life anymore, and it reminded him that you might become an addition to that list. as a man known for control and power, he has little of that in his head. he has no idea if the voices are gonna betray him again like they’d once done before and leave you, abandon you. lose you. his fears were coming out, crawling out of his mouth in no words and-

he sobbed.

head landing on your shoulder, he hunched over and clung to your body, releasing the tears he hadn’t cried for so long, years, into your shoulder. you found it hard to take in his sudden outburst, not having ever seen this side of the piglin before.

you quickly shook off your own feelings, knowing that now was a time where you had to think of him and only him. you placed your hands on the back of his head, over his hair as you held him close to you, kissing his temple. looking down at the photo still in your hand, you wondered what kind of past he must’ve had to feel this way, to feel so… alone. even when he still had so many people who loved him.

“techno.” you managed to pull him slightly away from you, teary eyes staring into yours as you wiped his tears on his cheeks away. “tell me what happened.”

he sniffed, unbuttoning the top button to his shirt for air. “which part?”

“all of it.”

they deserve nothing. they’re merely just another peasant who’s gonna end up stabbing us in the back.

techno stared at you as you slept peacefully beside him, hand still resting on his bare chest. he swallowed, eyes clouded with darkness. he squeezed them shut to get the voices to stop.

do it now. while they’re weak, disadvantaged. one stab through the neck and we’re safe, free. alone.

techno shot up from the bed, panting and clutching a hand over his heart. he groaned, wiping the sweat off of his forehead, but to no avail - his whole body was completely covered.

he hadn’t even heard you stir awake, the only thing he’d been able to hear being the voices, murderous, merciless voices roaming his mind.

“techno, what’s wrong?” you asked, but received no response other than the loud breathing he was letting out as he heaved. “hey.” you placed a hand on his shoulder, to which he immediately flinched away from your touch, as if you’d burned him with your fingertips. he stared back at you with wide eyes, backing away from you on the bed. your slight feeling of worry turned into a feeling much worse.

“get away from me,” he panted, moving further away from you once he noticed you trying to get closer.

“techno what’s wrong? talk to me, please! I’m only trying to he-“

“please just get away from me, y/n…”

you gaped at him as he stood up from the bed, claws scraping his scalp as he held his head, facing the ground. he heaved, shoulders moving up and down to his breathing as it grew louder along with the voices. he grunted, placing a hand on the wall as if he couldn’t stand up straight.

ignoring his words, you stood from the bed too, finding his health and happiness much more important than whatever reason he had for asking you to stay away from him. your heart started beating faster, anxious about him. what was happening? why was he acting like this? you’d never seen this happen to him before, and you were too desperate to know what was going on in his head to listen to his desperate words.

you grabbed his forearm, trying to get him to turn to you, but as soon as you did, the air from your lungs left your body as he pushed you harshly against the wall. a cold feeling on your neck, and without being able to move you could feel the blade pressing into your skin, a drop of warm blood running down your neck from where the blade had broken skin. you stopped breathing, looking into his eyes as tears fell from yours. he was still heaving, eyes black and hot breath fanning your face as he showed off his tusks from his open mouth.

“I said get the fuck away from me,” he growled, eyes unrecognizable as they stared into yours. you whimpered, clenching your hand around the wrist holding the blade to your neck. your nails dug into his skin, not wanting to hurt him, but fearing that not doing so would end up getting you even more hurt. though nothing felt as painful as what you were feeling right now. this man- beast, before you was not techno. it couldn’t be…

you cried out his name, closing your eyes in fear of what would happen. and then, the pressure was removed from your neck, a shaky pair of arms embracing you as the clang of the blade hitting the floor surrounded the room.

“y/n I- the voices I can’t-“

you gasped for air, pushing him off of you with all of your power and sobbing as you looked at your lover, disbelief coursing through you. your bottom lip shook as you cried, shaky hands clinging to your own body in a way to try and cope with what just happened. blood was smeared on your neck from the cut he made with the blade, his soaked eyes widening at the sight. he huffed, heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach. what had he done? the one thing he’d ever wanted to do was protect you, and now he was the one hurting you. “y/n please, I’m so sorry. something took over me I- you know that I’d never try to hurt you, right?”

he inched slightly closer to you, tears that were forming in his eyes finally falling when you backed away from him in fear. you just cried harder at his words, smearing blood on your face when you placed your hands over your eyes, sobbing into your hands. words couldn’t explain how you felt - betrayal? shock? anger? sadness? none of them felt like the right word. all you knew was that you didn’t feel good.

and neither did techno.

he backed away from you, realizing that the only way for him to make you feel at least a little bit better, safer, was if you were far away from him. far, far away.

he was out of the bedroom before you had the chance to stop him, looking up from your wet hands to see him gone along with his red cape and sword. wide-eyed, you looked around the room, contemplating wether you should go after him or not. the man you loved, your soulmate. the man who just attacked you.

techno left hooveprints in the snow as he ran, away away away. as far as his legs would let him. he didn’t know what his mind could do now without his control. he didn’t know if he was capable of keeping you safe from himself. all he knew was that he could never hurt you again. not like this.

he reached the woods, huffing out a breath as he stopped by a tree to catch his breath. the need for oxygen in his lungs blocked out the sound of loud gallops coming his way.

you spotted his blood red cape, royal colour standing out from the dull trees. “come on, Carl. we’ve gotta get him,” you mumbled to yourself and the horse you were sat on, speeding up as you entered the forest. “tech!”

turning around with wide eyes, techno’s heart sped up as he saw you there, getting off the horse with ease. he took a step back. “y/n, please, I don’t wanna hurt you again,” he pleaded, holding his hand out to prevent you from coming closer to him.

you signed sadly, heart glowing with love so powerful that you swear he could see it through your skin. unfortunately, he couldn’t. so you needed to tell him, or else you were scared you’d never see him again.

“honey, please. let’s talk about this,” you stepped closer to him, attempting to get close to him without scaring him off. he didn’t step back this time. instead, he faced the ground, ears downturned in shame. he watched a tear fall from his eye and melt into the snow below him. “I know you’d never try to hurt me, tech.”

your hand was on his cold cheek now, lifting his head up to look at you. he did, tearful and pouty. it almost made you cry. you know he didn’t mean to hurt you, you could see it. but that just left you confused with what had happened. and something told you he was just as confused.

“please,” you begged, running your fingers through his hair. “I love you.” techno closed his eyes shut at your words, giving into your touch as he melted in your arms, crying softly into your shoulder. you let your tears fall silently as well, watching as the sun started rising in the horizon as you stood embracing your broken lover in the middle of the snowy woods.

he hadn’t answered you back then. he wished he’d been different.

your eyes lit up in excitement as you spotted a green and red figure from the window despite the blaring sun shining onto the snow, blinding you. you bursted out of the door, running towards the two men wearing barely any clothes. but you didn’t care. because he was back. techno was back, after a whole month since that night.

you threw your arms around him, crashing into his body. his usual warmth surrounded you. oh, how you’d missed that warmth. you shut your eyes, trying your hardest not to cry as the piglin embraced you back, bearing the same expression on his face as you did.

phil continued walking to the cabin, muttering a small “hey y/n” and then leaving you to it.

“you’re back earlier than expected,” you said, running a finger over his spine as you took him in.

“yeah… puffy said it seemed like I was getting better faster than we’d thought. so she sent me back,” he explained, monotone yet heart pounding incredibly hard for you.

you pulled away from him, cupping his face to get a look at him. he looked… calm. better. sending him to puffy’s therapy must’ve done something by the looks of it. but of course you couldn’t know since you hadn’t talked about it yet. but all you could think of right now was how much you’d missed him.

you placed your lips on his, kissing him gently to get used to his lips again. you’d missed his kisses, his presence, him him him. he kissed back, pulling your chest against his as he soothed his thumb over your chin. he tilted his head for a deeper angle, letting his tongue run across your bottom lip. you let him in, electricity shooting through your body, leaving you with a fuzzy feeling.

he pulled away and wrapped his red cape around you, resting his chin on your head. “I missed you so much, kid.”

and the words he spoke were true. he’d missed you so much that when he left you it felt like his lungs would collapse and his blood would run dry and like his whole body was shutting down. he loved you more than he’d ever thought he’d be capable of loving anyone or anything. like you were the sole purpose of his life, the end goal. you were everything to him.

and yet he had this feeling that he shouldn’t be with you. that he should stay far away from you, like you weren’t meant to be. it was draining and it was there with him whenever he thought of you or was in your presence - this breathtaking and anxious feeling ripping the love right out of his heart.

he squeezed you to him, kissing the top of your head. you smiled into his cape. “I missed you too. so much.”

#technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #technoblade fanfic #c!technoblade x reader #c!technoblade #technoblade fluff #technoblade angst #technoblade imagine #dream smp imagine #dream smp fluff #dream smp technoblade #dream smp angst #dream smp fanfic #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fluff #mcyt angst #mcyt imagine

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missycolorful · 5 months

Text

there is silence after the storm (the silence isn't all that quiet)

Hello! This is my my gift for @xexpaguette for the @technoblade-gift-exchange !!! I really hope you enjoy! :D It's also available to read on Ao3!

----

The air is bitter cold and electric, tinged with the remarkably copper-esqe scent of blood.

Another body folds and collapses onto the ground with a resounding thud. Towering over the fallen soldier, Technoblade shifts the weight of his ax from one hand to the other. Grace with a lull in the chaos, he tilts his head and lifts up his cape. Blood of the enemy stains the fabric, and—

Techno clicks his tongue in disdain. "Aww, what—bruh, I just stitched this this morning,” Techno complains to the lifeless corpse at his feet as he gestures a new tear that swipes through his cape. “Next time, can your buddies aim right and not ruin my stitch work? Kay, thanks.”

A gust of wind brushes across his back in a way that feels more like a reassuring pat on the back. Laughter rings through the sky, delighted in a sick way given the gruesome remains of the battlefield. Philza lands with a graceful flap of his wings.

“They fuck up your cape already? You worked so hard on it, too,” Phil laments, though with a teasing look on his face. Behind him, a man sprints toward the pair, but neither of them flinch. In swift motions, Phil tightens his grip of his sword handle, and strikes in the space under his armpit without even turning around. The sword pierces through the soldier’s abdomen. Phil’s smile doesn’t waver, and he continues to speak over the last blood-filled, guttural noises of the soldier in the snow, “Really inconsiderate of ‘em.”

“Exactly. See, these guys had it comin’.”

Over a hill in the fair distance, Technoblade watches a crowd of men rallying, waving a banner that certainly does not proclaim the Antarctic Empire . Thereafter, the men descend down the hill, but the remains of the army splits slightly, attempting to take on the emperors in opposite directions. They look like ants from this far. Fitting.

Phil casts a glance at the approaching armies. He clicks his tongue. “Alright, I'm just gonna say it. I’m almost glad these fuckers invaded us. There were, like, five meetings in a row planned today, and man, would that have sucked!”

“Yeah, I dunno what we were thinking then, aside from ‘Ah, that’s future Technoblade and Philza’s problem!’,” Techno mutters as the faint roar of the crowd grows nearer. Their shoulders tense up, postures straightening. “Yeah, no, this is way more fun.”

“Though the cleanup, not so much,” Phil says, lips pulled back in a grimace. Surrounding them is a macabre arrangement of corpses. Most of the snow has become a spectrum from pink-ish to the darkest of reds from the blood spilt like the rainfalls of hell.

The battlecries of the approaching enemies has become thunderous, though Technoblade is not deterred for even a moment. The co-emperors bump shoulders, backs against one another. Phil’s wings spread wide, visible even in Techno’s peripheral, as black as the void Itself. Bloodstains that are most certainly not Phil’s marr the angel’s otherwise pristine feathers. They look as sharp as blades, ready to slice through delicate skin. Though their sharpness can only be matched with the ax in Technoblade’s clutches paired with Techno’s boundless strength.

One of the soldiers approaches, brave in the most foolish of ways. He screams, a sword raised to spear through Technoblade’s heart. Over his shoulder, he can hear the horrific screams of men falling at Philza’s behest. The man in front of Technoblade never makes so much as a dent in Techno’s armor.

Technoblade stands tall, intimidating to anyone who hasn’t seen him grumbling and with bedhead in the early morning. The soldier freezes, paralyzed like a prey caught in the clutches of a ruthless predator.

Technoblade raises his ax, ready to strike into the poor man’s skull. He heaves it over his head in an arc and —

And Technoblade strikes the earth with his somewhat rusted hoe. He carves into the freshly raked dirt, dragging his tool until it forms a single neat line. The harsh sun beats down as he works, his head and face veiled by a sunhat the woman at the accessory shop in town offered to him on one of their first visits.

After quickly watering the freshly picked area, Techno kneels onto the grass. He picks out the tomato seeds he recently bought and sets them in a straight line down the drill. The earth is cool against his skin as he buries the seeds a bit. Dirt catches on his hooved appendages. It's refreshing, in a way. With a final pat, he flattens the dirt over the seeds, soothing over the coarse lines.

With the seeds prepared for growth, Technoblade sits back for a moment. He wipes the sweat dripping over his brow. There’s a serene warmth in the air, comforting but something he still needs to adjust to. The colder environments, the arctic, the tundra, they always called to him, like an instinct that leads you home. But here, the spring and summers are warm. The change is good, he thinks.

He brushes his dirt-caked hands over his patched up work pants. The rest of his crops are gradually growing, this early in the summer. The orange heads of the carrots are beginning to reveal themselves from the depths of the earth. The zucchini will take some time, as well, just planted earlier this week. Soon enough, though, the garden will thrive, and the thought alone is satisfying.

As he begins to stand, there’s a strain in his back. He arches his body to crack the tense muscles. As he stretches, somewhere in the corner of his vision, there’s a flicker of movement. He stiffens, and the voice immediately soar through his skull. Danger, danger, someone’s here! His heart thuds, blood pounding in his eardrums.

Before he can retrieve his ax, however, the sight of a small creature trotting across the top of the fence quells his nerves. He groans into his hand. A cat roams over his front yard so casually, without a care in the world. Like it owns the fence.

“Hullo,” he greets it automatically, despite never receiving a response back.

It flicks its tail in response. Rude.

He grabs a bowl from inside the house, fills it with water, and places it on the ground close to where the cat now comfortable sits.

This same stray pops up now and again, just wandering the outskirts of town or sneaking inside buildings within town, as well. No one ever minds, as it never causes trouble. Though no one has laid claim on it yet, apparently.

It has black and white fur. Its front paws are pure white, and pure black for its back paws.

With a slight pang in his chest, he wonders how Ranboo is doing.

He hasn’t gotten the chance to see the kid since he was revived. All he knows is that Ranboo now lives in the depths of the Nether, living peacefully with his son. I need to visit sometime, Technoblade silently declares. There’s a lot he needs to say, he feels. And maybe a hug or two is in order.

But that’s for another day. For now, the rest of his plants call to him, begging to be watered lest the sun dry them up. He grabs the watering can and gets to work.

❁❁❁

Among the swirling rational thoughts telling him against otherwise, despite the reminders from Technoblade, Philza still looks at the woman in her fifties standing on the other side of the counter with a sneer, and he thinks, I could take her in a fight.

Hey, it’s not his fault that the woman selling quality bread is scamming this town. Three loaves of bread for four emeralds! He’s certainly not going to put up with any of that. Even if she refuses to budge on her pricing. Even though no one else in town seems to have the same thoughts as he.

But the market is crowded today, with many eyes ready to lock on if Phil starts anything. So he bites his tongue, and he keeps his arms to his sides. He takes the deal, grabs the bread, and walks away before she decides to raise the prices on him once more.

The bread was the last thing on their short list of food to grab from the market today. So it is when the town’s market is thriving most, crowds gathering to take great advantage of deals on food and trinkets, that Philza looks at the filled basket in his arm and thinks, Alright, I’m getting the fuck outta here before I get us banned from the market.

He was never one for crowds, never will be. His wings remain tightened against his back. Restraining them is like a chokehold sometimes, but he eventually maneuvers through the crowd of people. He just wants to go back home, in the middle of the woods with his best friend and with enough space to spread out his aching wings.

Philza only stops when he comes across a cart selling pastries. The lady who owns the bakery stands behind the cart with a bored countenance. He forgets her name at the moment; he’s always been kind of shit at remembering names. Fresh looking muffins and pies, the sort, are sitting on the cart, begging to be sold.

Every time he passes by the woman’s shop, he can’t help but think that Niki would enjoy the place, maybe even make improvements here and there, ever the determined. She’d have liked it here, maybe…

“Tilly, mind your manners!”

Phil blinks. Behind him stands a sheepish little girl, who scurries behind the pastry counter. Before he can voice his confusion, the pastry woman clears things up. “Sorry, lad, we don’t see a lotta winged folk ‘round these parts, so she’s very interested in ya.” She shakes her head. “Not that that means you can grab a person’s feathers like that, Tilly. ‘S rude.”

“S-Sorry!” a soft voice calls out.

And as the realization of what happened crashes down, Philza brushes it off with a wave and a laugh, trying to hide the disappointment settling in his stomach. Before, he had always been on top of watching over his back and everywhere else around him. No one ever approached his back and made it out alive unless he allowed it. And to think, now a kid can simply come up, pull at the feathers of his ruined wing, and he would’ve been none the wiser if her mother didn’t pipe up.

It’s just a damn kid, relax, he tries to tell himself, because this is merely a mole he’s making a mountain out of, isn’t it? It’s nothing. It’s whatever.

At least the woman, who perhaps sensed his discomfort, offers him a deal on her treats if he buys anything, which he does. Some blueberry muffins and some danish pastries. Sweets weren’t on the list for today, but, well… fuck it.

“Saw you ready to deck it out with Beatrice earlier,” says the pastry woman with a smirk as he turns to leave. “Careful, she packs a mean punch. I’m not saying she could take you in a fight, but…”

“Oh, my god,” Phil says, losing the fight with himself to contain a grin. He snickers. “Please don’t tempt me. We wanna make a good impression around here. You know, not cause trouble or anything."

The woman’s smile becomes more genuine. “Don’t worry about that. You and the pig lad seem like good folk. Town’s certainly talkin’ a bit, but rest assured, it’s plenty of good word bein’ spread.”

The assurance isn't needed, but Phil gives her a kind smile anyway. With a nod, Phil leaves with an overflowing basket, and he walks out of town just before the sun begins to set.

Down the road, a crow soars by, calling out with a low caw, calling out to him. He slows to a stop and watches the bird glide by. It flaps its wide yet dirty feathers as it flies toward a nearby tree for landing… only to smack directly into a branch with a much louder thud than Philza thought possible.

“Jesus christ!” Phil exclaims, hiding his shock-filled laughter behind his fist.

The bird catches itself in the air before it can fall to the ground and further add to its embarrassment. Philza approaches to the bird and offers his arm for perching purposes, rather than letting the bird risk another rough landing.

“Dumbass,” Phil mutters to it with a teasing glint to his eyes. Upon latching its claws on Phil's cloth, the bird’s feathers fluff up, but the bullying is cut short. There's a note tied to its leg. Phil meets its beady little gaze. ��What’cha got there?”

Unsurprisingly, its caws give him no helpful answers. He takes the note without another thought, opens it, and immediately stills when he peeks at the bottom. The name of the writer sits clear in the corner, in messy, cursive scrawl.

Wilbur.

A nervous smile catches on his lips. A tense feeling settles in his gut, his stomach twisting like he had taken in an expired meal. He tries to swallow it down, tries to reassure himself. After all, the letter doesn’t start out with anything like Fuck you or Never talk to me again, asshole, so that’s good, right? Things are better now. There's no reason to assume the worst.

“You talked it out,” he reminds himself out loud. The crow chatters, as if in agreement. “Things are okay between you again.” Well, they’re starting to be, Phil mentally adds. Still, he collects his breath.

He’s still a bit away from home, but he can’t even think of letting this letter sit in his pocket unread for even a bit longer. So he begins to read the letter proper.

Hey, Philza. Dadza. Father Minecraft!

Anyway, I wanted to write just to (there’s some unintelligible words scratched out in pen) I don’t know. Catch up, I guess? It’s been a few weeks, hasn’t it? It doesn’t feel like it. My sense of time’s become a bit fucked since limbo, I guess. Haha

I’ll be honest, not much has happened since we were last in touch. It was nice to have you visit, by the way. Still working the same job, still friends with the same people. Nothing extraordinary going on. A part of me can't stand it. Like, I want to do something, you know? B ut I think this is what I need. Somehow. I can’t explain it. Maybe some day it’ll make sense.

I hope you’re doing alright. Technoblade, too. I’d like to visit in the future. Not soon, but I don’t know, whenever I’m ready. I got to know where the two retired Syndicate members are hiding out this time. Hopefully Techno will stick around long enough for me to visit. I’d like to speak with him. I never got the chance to before shit went down on the server, after all. We got to make amends, but it doesn’t feel like enough, you know?

Wilbur

Phil sighs and folds the letter back up. He’ll need to grab a pen upon his return home. Though he knows it’ll take him all night to come up with the right words, not wanting to step over any invisible lines or say something stupid that will ensnare around Wilbur's mind like barbed wire. But this is better than he had expected. At least he wants to visit, right? That’s a good thing.

Hopefully Techno will stick around long enough for me to visit.

It had always been a joke between them, when Wilbur was younger. Technoblade would stay in town for a few months, then vanish come next morn when he was lured by the need to crush tyranny underneath his worn out boots, or even some espionage a nearby country asked of him. Wilbur had always expressed some form of disappointment when Technoblade was gone for weeks on end, traveling and finding adventure and fun elsewhere, but Philza in turn always reassured his son that he’d return soon. And he always did.

That didn’t make his absence any less disheartening.

And maybe Technoblade will hear those calls again and go running. Philza can't blame him one bit. How long is Technoblade meant for retirement, after all? It’s just a shame that Phil can no longer trail alongside Technoblade, should he find adventure calling to him once more. No longer could he follow like his friend’s shadow, ready to lunge like a monster unleashed. His wings have become more of an obstacle, more of a distraction, than a favored weapon. His right leg aches when storms arise. He even relies on his cane to hold him steady on the worst of days.

Philza is not suited for the battlefield. Not as well as he used to. And he has accepted this, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

With a somber huff of breath, Phil scratches the top of the crow’s head. “Thanks, mate,” he says before heading back home. He needs to hurry. He’s got a letter to write back, and of course, dinner is soon.

⛯⛯⛯

Technoblade is finishing moving the extra bale of hay into the horses’ stables that they built on Phil’s side of their set up when Philza makes his presence known. The fence gate creaks as he enters the stables, the basket clutched in his arm filled to the brim.

“Hey, mate,” he says, pushing the gate shut and walking up to his horse. There’s a gentle smile on his face as he pulls out an apple from the basket. His horse snatches it up within seconds, churring noises of content. On the other side, Technoblade’s horse lets out a haughty snort. “Yeah, I’ll get to you, too!”

“Don’t let him feel left out, Phil. I hear horses carry grudges.”

Phil lets out an amused snort and walks over to Carl’s stable. His wings are fully extended, though dragging a bit against the ground. Surely he’ll complain about the dirt that has caught in his feathers the next time he preens. Though, thinking back on their time in the Dream Essempi, Phil had almost always kept them locked securely to his back as if they were chained up, all tense and hidden away from the rest of the world. Too easy for enemies to grab and use to their advantage, Philza had said at one point. So it's nice to see them compared to those days, messy or otherwise.

“You’re right on time. Food’s just coolin’ off. Made salmon with potatoes and broccoli,” Techno says, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. The window is open, letting the scent of the cooked food drift into the air.

Phil’s face splits open with a smile. His fingers brush through Carl’s mane. “Niiiice, man, smells incredible,” he says. He pats the top of the basket. “I got extra sweets while getting everything else. They weren't on the list, but hey, I was definitely needing this after today.”

“Oh, no, what’d you do?”

Phil sputters. “Bruh! Why’re you assumin’ I’m the problem here?” he asks, feigning offense at the statement. His smile gives him away. “For all you know, I could be the lowly victim in this situation.”

“Alright, so was it Beatrice again?” Technoblade asks without missing a beat.

And the way Phil’s nose scrunches up gives Techno the answer he needs. “Honestly, most of the trip was fine. Great, really. But no, I didn’t start a brawl with her in the middle of the market or anything—”

“I literally didn’t even accuse you of that. That just sounds like a self-admittance, really—”

“Okay, so I almost wanted to start a fight with her today, but I didn’t! But the woman who makes the pastries says that she has a mean right hook or something, so maybe it’d be a worthwhile fight,” he finishes with a shrug, as if to say, Why not?

To which Technoblade, well, he can think of at least several reasons.

But still, Techno snorts in amusement, despite his best efforts to keep it in. How Philza, the Angel of Death, has found an opponent in an elderly bread woman, he’ll never know. “Phil, ya tell me some iteration of this story every week, and at this point, I’m expecting her to snap one day and stand by your bedroom door with a chainsaw. Maybe don’t ban us from the bread lady’s market stand, if you can help it. She makes good bread. We like the good bread.”

“Dude, she tried to sell me three loaves of bread for four emeralds! What is that shit?” Phil exclaims in defense of himself. “I’d expect the bread to start doin’ tricks if they’re that expensive, holy shit. She’s puttin’ on a big fuckin’ scam here. If she starts shit again, I’m starting a riot. Savin’ this town from overpriced bread.”

“You’re a true hero, Philza Minecraft,” Technoblade says as they begin to walk back inside his house. He pries through Phil’s basket for a blueberry muffin for a quick bite before dinner. They're a bit too sweet.

Phil snorts, but as a thought seems to cross his mind, the laughter builds. His shoulders tremble in tandem with his laughter. “Ohhh, my god…” he breathes out between fits of giggles, a hand brushing over his face and coming through his messy hair.

“And oh, how the hero falls into madness so quickly,” Techno narrates with dramatic flair, hand over heart and all.

“Oh, fuck off,” Phil waves him off, his laughter dying down. With a drawn out sigh, he holds open Technoblade's front door. “Just, y’know… retirement’s weird, mate.”

Techno briefly shoots him a look. “You’re telling me,” he whispers in agreement.

It’s only been a few weeks, not even two months, since they arrived in the outskirts of this insignificant town. It doesn’t feel real sometimes. He swears some days that he’ll wake up the next morning, and when he looks through the window, a permanent winter will embrace the area, and across the way will be a country ruined by his hands.

But there’s not a country or even a simple town in any nearby vicinity that has been the victim of his destruction. He hasn’t brought any countries to their knees since L’manberg. And it has been well over a year since then, though it feels like lifetimes ago. He feels like a different person since those days. Everything feels different. And that can be a good thing, right?

“How’s the muffin?”

Techno hums. “Good… but they’re not as good as Niki’s, though,” he says, because nothing could compare to the firestarter’s skills. Last they had heard from her, she had found a place to call home on another server, not anywhere near here. But she had sounded content, at peace despite their prior circumstances. Though the Syndicate has been scattered across worlds and landscapes, they’re all happy.

“... Yeah,” Phil says with a forlorn smile.

At least, he hopes they are.

❁❁❁

The chair creaks under his weight as he sits. Phil hands Technoblade a thin blanket as his own sits comfortably across his lap. It’s not terribly cold out, even this late in the evening, but it’s such common practice between them, to sit outside in the middle of the night, warm drinks in hand and swathed in blankets to keep warm. Who is he to break the tradition now, even if they have found shelter in newer, warmer lands?

“Thanks,” Techno mutters, and in turn, hands Phil the cup of coffee he requested.

He never teases Phil for his choice of drink when the sun has long since set. After all, the answer has always been the same: sleep still doesn’t come easy to Phil anyway. Hasn’t in months (years, really). So with a silent nod in thanks, Phil cups the drink in his hands, the warmth curling into his fingertips.

In the distance, the lights in town are dim. Most of the town is in deep sleep with the exception of a few buildings, likely a tavern or your common night owl working among the resting. Above the, crows perch atop both of their roofs, muffled caws breaking the silence.

“Wilbur wrote me earlier,” Phil says. He takes a sip of his coffee. He can feel the caffeine already kicking in.

“Oh, yeah?” Techno asks, interest piqued. They left on okay but still uncertain terms, after all. “What’d he say?”

“Ahh, y’know, he’s getting used to living in Utah again. And he’s wanting to visit. Not right now, but in the future, he’d like to.” Phil opts out of mentioning a few details from Wilbur’s letter for his own sake, though he does add, “He mentioned you, actually. He wants to catch up with you.”

Techno pauses, eyebrows furrowed slightly. “You know, that’d be nice, actually. Though, uh, you think he’s actually coming by, hoping to find out that we’re secretly still committing war crimes under the guise of retirement?” he asks, a tiny smirk twitching on his lips.

Phil snorts behind his fist. “You know, he did mention the fact we’re Syndicate members, so that’s not off the table. ‘S not like we even have anything to hide, so he won’t come up with anythin’!”

“Nothing but vegetables and you feuding with the elderly in town.”

Phil bursts out laughing, because the truth is a funny one. After finding a new home to reside in, they had planned to do just that: retire. There were no secret conspiracies hidden in their pockets, no destruction blueprints spread out in a table in the basement. Nothing of the sort. The ex-emperors of the Antarctic Empire, the co-founders of the Syndicate, have essentially retired.

Silence settles after a moment, allowing Philza a chance to really take it all in. Even after a few weeks of taking up residence outside of this nothing town, the realization still throws him off at times. They survived the worst parts of the other server, scarred and broken and a bit sleepless. And now they’re just… here. And Techno tends to a garden that will prosper with time. And on his side, he keeps their horses stationed in a safe stable, and the horses are sleeping soundly. Maybe he can start planting flowers in his yard, liven up the place.

There are no thieves in the night, no greedy hands pilfering Technoblade’s hard work. No, this town seems to mind its own damn business so long as you mind your own. It’s a simple town, with simple people who simply want to enjoy life day-by-day.

Everything is so fucking… simple.

It’s jarring.

“You ever feel like you’re just… waiting for something to come and… ruin it?”

Spurred from his thinking, Phil casts Technoblade a concerned look, a brow raised. It seems that they were sharing the same train of thought. “Like what?” Phil asks anyway.

Technoblade shrugs, not meeting his gaze. “Call it whatever. Karma, revenge, what have you. Just one person showing up—”

“Not like they’d do anything. Not against us,” Phil interrupts him, though not unkindly. He sits cross-legged in the chair. The next drink of his coffee soothes his soul. “What, they gonna take a knife and stab your rutabagas?”

“Not the rutabagas, Phil. What’d they do to you?” Techno asks, feigning an aghast look.

Phil grins. “Don’t worry, man, we’ll get used to it. The whole retirement thing. We-we’re fine out here.” His thumb feels over his cup. “Though I gotta say, I’m a little surprised you’re embracing it so much. Just a little.”

One of Techno’s brows rises. “I dunno, man, you’ve always been the more antsy type. You and your bird instincts.”

“True, true,” Phil concedes with a nod, “but look, loo, you’re always off, traveling and fighting off evil governments and shit. You’ve always had a busy schedule. For fuck’s sake, you missed the server exploding cause of a mission someone gave you!” When he looks down, his coffee cup is empty. His brow twitches, and he forces out a chuckle. “I'm just saying, I’m sure you’ll be gone, beheading shitty corrupt assholes by next month.”

Technoblade doesn’t answer right away, humming as if in thought. Phil internally cringes. What if Techno already has plans to leave soon, even as early as next week? He'll encourage his friend to take the opportunity, but Phil, selfishly, would rather not endure retirement alone...

“I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon,” Technoblade finally says before Philza can spiral and think over the worst case scenario. When Phil looks at him, Techno stares far off into the forest that looms over the town. His posture slouches. “I’m kinda tired, y’know? And I’ll never admit it to anyone else, but I’m getting older, Phil. Not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon, but I can feel it some days.” He rolls his shoulder. “Definitely can’t swing the ax like the olden days. Not as cool as I used to, at least. ‘Cause, wow, did I love showing off a lot.”

“Aww, mate, you’re still cool,” says Phil, bumping his shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re still terrifyin’ with that ax.”

Techno’s smile grows, but it doesn't match the far off, thoughtful look in his eyes. “I mean, sure, I enjoy traveling sometimes. But really, I like the quiet, the peace, and, you know, being able to breathe without a knife at my neck if I turn the wrong corner,” he finishes in a quieter voice, scratching the nape of his neck. He clicks his tongue. “The voices aren’t even as bloodthirsty as they used to be, I think.”

“Really?”

“Ayup—okay, okay,” Techno retracts with a swift gesture of his hands, “there’s, like, a few smaller voices that sometimes go, ‘Bruhh, go back to the violence, we’re getting bored of this arc here!’” He shrugs. “But I just ignore it. It’s gotten easier to ignore, actually, ‘cause y’know, it’s not what I really want.” He distractedly pulls as a loose string of his sleep shirt. “Maybe I’ll go back and kick the face of some dumb politician, buuut right now, I just wanna relax.”

“Yeah, you deserve it, after all the shit you went through,” Phil says with a quiet smile.

Techno’s hand cards through the fur atop his head, but Phil can see the way his appendages freeze momentarily over the gold-lined scar striking down his skull like lightning. “Yeah, looking back… wow that was a lot.” Though Techno manages to belt out a chuckle, it sounds forced, almost like an afterthought.

Phil, too, lets out a nervous laugh. “Dude, shit was fucked in there.” He weighs his empty cup from one hand to the next. The feeling of the feathers on his back is more prominent. “Got my fucked up wing, my fucked up leg. I can’t fight like the old days, but you’re way better off than me there, so at least you have that,” he adds with a snort, nose scrunched. “I dunno if I’ll be able to join you if you ever leave. Fuck, man, I’d just drag you down—”

“Nooooooo,” Techno cuts him off, placing his hand over the top of Phil’s head, which gets a snort-filled snicker out of Philza, “Stop. You’re doing that thing, Phil. Just stop talking—”

With a smirk, Phil smacks Techno’s hand off of his head. “Fuck’s sake, Techno, you know I’m right—”

“Actually, it’s me who’s always right. But you’re getting old, so I can see where the confusion lies—”

“You really think I can stick by you in battle nowadays without something going to shit? Really?" Phil asks, voice ripe with doubt.

Technoblade’s face lights up as an idea strikes him like lightning. “We haven’t sparred in a while. We got too busy settling in. I’d hate for us to be rusty, so…” And he’s already standing up, drawing back his shoulders to stretch the muscles with a slight crack. “And maybe then I can convince ya that you’re still good enough to join me on the battlefield.”

“Right now?” Phil asks with a surprised scoff, but his smile widens. He begins kicking the blanket from off of his lap, discarding it to the floor. “In the middle of the night?”

“Eh, sure, why not?” Techno response, and well, Philza has nothing to retaliate against that.

In the end, Technoblade and Philza stand in front of their yards, swords at the ready. Light bleeds out from the lanterns hanging over the fence doors, casting yellow over the dim area. Though the rest of the world lays quiet, the silence is about to be devastated by the sounds of battle and laughter.

When they lunge and weapons clash, there are genuine smiles on both of their faces.

#technogiftexchange #emerald duo #dream smp fanfic #philza #technoblade #missy writes

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waddei · 2 years

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these two scenes back to back where genuinely so funny, go read the fic btw it's awesome , "unlikely events" by nymphii, it's a Dtbh au but only the best parts

link in the comments cus Tumblr is terrible

#tommyinnit #tommy innit #wilbur soot #technoblade #fanfic fanart #fic fanart #wadds art #dream smp fanfic #shit im proud of

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youreyeslookliketheocean · 6 months

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Chapter summary:

Wilbur sat down on the bed. “I almost watched you die to one, Tommy. I can’t teach you to fight, knowing that something like that might happen again. You’re my little brother.”

“And you’re my older brother. I still let you do this, knowing what might happen. Knowing what it feels like to… to hurt.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not.”

Wilbur’s gaze drifted up to Tommy’s eyes, contemplative, and Tommy put effort into looking the part. He tilted his chin up, pushed his shoulders back, tried to bleed confidence as shimmering and brilliant as… well… gold.

“I’m not scared, Wilbur,” he said. “Please just let me help.”

****

Final chapter!!!! I hope you guys have enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

#mcyt #mcyt fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #crimeboys #crimeboys fanfic #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza minecraft #sbi #sbi fanfic #dream smp #dsmp #dream smp fanfic #hero!au #heroes/villains au #good as gold #hurt/comfort

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salt-oftheearth · 6 days

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Twenty years after the end of the war, Phil has a Bad Day.

(A post-canon oneshot for “oh dear, can you see me?” By findingkairos, for the MCYT Recursive Exchange.)

But he bursts into the meeting room only a few minutes late, hat askew, breathing only slightly heavy as he regards those in attendance at the table. The rectangular plinth was full of the usual suspects-- Lieutenant Sneegsnag was there, fresh off of paternity leave, alongside Generals Memph, TapL and Calvin, on the sinister side. On the other, his own officers-- His longtime friend Ian, Sergeant Wolfy, Corporal Mercy, and General Trixtin. All of whom stare at him, some suppressing smiles or muffling laughter as he settles into his seat at Techno’s right hand, his face warming. And usually, usually, he would laugh it off, make a snarky shot back at Ian and how that orange hat of his was bright enough to cause a fifty person crush in the halls, or how he had to dismantle another one of Trixtin’s altars en route, but. Today’s not a good day for it.

Written for @mcytrecursive !!! As a gift for @paradoxalriven !!!

#dream smp #dream smp fanfic #philza minecraft #technoblade #emerald duo #oh dear can you see me #SaltOfTheWrite

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areus-in-a-little-cave · 2 years

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fuck it we self promo

184k ongoing Tubbo-centric Manberg canon divergent political drama/war dadschlatt fic with Tubbo and Phil and clingyduo

50k finished Techno-centric modern kidnapping au with bedrock bros and trauma + 3k Wilbur-centric prequel + 16k Sapnap-centric twoshot prequel + 20k ongoing Tommy-centric sequel

87k finished Michael_Beloved-centric canon divergent fic with uncle Techno and also kidnapping

17k ongoing Tommy-centric modern/sci-fi au with SBI and grief and family drama (and also MCD but they get better)

37k ongoing Tubbo-centric modern/2006 horror/thriller au with clingyduo and monsters and dreamons

47k ongoing Wilbur-centric mer/mer scientist au with crimeboys and SBI and drama

3k Techno-centric canon compliant hurt/comfort bedrock bros oneshot

21k Philza-centric osmp royalty au oneshot with sandduo, politics, and MCD

5k Ranbutler-centric post canon tales oneshot about Hubert and escaping Billiam

5k Philza-centric greek mythos emeraldduo oneshot based on the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur

3k Techno-centric missing scene/slightly canon divergent emeraldduo oneshot about Phil mourning Wilbur

5k Philza-centric pre-canon phistin zine piece oneshot about Phil becoming the angel of death

15k ongoing SBI-centric and Tubbo-centric very canon divergent yet also vaguely canon compliant dadschlatt + SBI

#areus rambles #dream smp fanfic #note for the last fic:#its not great #I wrote the first 5-6 chapters well over a year ago #that fic is basically the expression 'fuck it we ball'#I have fun with that one #what I mean is. it does follow canon #also I said how many times can I change things while still making the plot follow canon

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mcyt-peach · 2 years

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Hi, Peach~! I would like to request a oneshot/drabble for cc!Schlatt with "one gives the other a kiss on the cheek and the other one suddenly turns their head" prompt with fem!Reader please?

sneaky schlatt

·˚ * summary: a discussion on the chuckle sandwich podcast means schlatt has to test out a prank suggested by his friends

·˚ * pairing: cc!schlatt x fem!reader

·˚ * warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns, technically schlatt kisses reader on the lips without asking but reader was ready to kiss him anyway so...

·˚ * word count: 576

·˚ * genre: fluff, romantic

·˚ * note: kaiselin this was adorableeeeeee I love me some fluffy schlatt and this is totally a trick he'd pull so I hope I did your idea justice

The new Chuckle Sandwich episode was being filmed and the three hosts had decided to talk about old movies and childhood nostalgia.

“Do you guys remember that thing where someone would try to get the love interest to kiss them on the cheek, but they’d turn their head at the last second and get a kiss on the lips?” Charlie questions, carrying on the conversation about old romance movies with plots that flew over their heads as children.

“No.” Schlatt scowls at the screen, clearly confused as to what his friend was referring to.

“Dude, it was a super popular trope!” Ted counters. “I remember my parents even doing it sometimes.”

“Yeah, it was like a cute thing people would do all the time.” Charlie agrees. “You’ve definitely seen it before, you probably just don’t remember.”

“No, I’ve never even heard of it. Besides, there’s no way it would work. What, the other person just doesn’t notice their partner’s head swinging around at top speed? They’d have to be blind for that to work.” Schlatt doubles down on his stance, in classic Schlatt fashion.

“What?” Ted has his signature disbelieving smile pasted on his face. “There’s no way THE Jschlatt has never seen it. It’s the oldest trick in the book. How do you not know it? You’re basically our jester!”

“I’m electing to ignore that.” Schlatt fires back at Ted, turning around to watch you tentatively open the door, his lunch in hand and Jambo at your heels. He motions for you to come in and while you cross the office, he swings around in his chair to face the screen again.

“Dude, try it on her.” Charlie proposes, seeing you usher Jambo through the door before you close it. “She’ll totally fall for it!”

“She won’t.” Schlatt still doubts how anything so childish would ever work, but tests it nonetheless, just to prove Ted and Charlie wrong.

As you set the plate of food down on his desk, Schlatt looks at you and taps at his cheek. “Knock me a kiss, sweetheart.”

All too used to his needy bouts, you don’t put up a fight, getting ready to plant a peck on his cheek. But before you can, he swivels his head to catch your lips in his own.

The kiss is short and sweet. Obviously not too explicit for the sake of his two friends watching on screen, but still conveying all the emotions he found hard to express with words.

Separating from him, you feel a bit embarrassed about kissing in front of an audience. Said audience is currently cheering and shouting “I told you so!”, heard even through Schlatt’s headphones.

Neither of you can hide your smiles when you turn away from each other, him muttering a shy “Yeah, whatever” into his mic. You shuffle out of the office and catch your breath in the hallway, wondering if he’ll be doing that more often.

“Can we keep that in or do you want the editors to cut it out?” Ted asks seriously, not wanting to cross either of your boundaries.

“Nah, cut it out. She’s just for me.” Schlatt’s smirk is oh so obvious on screen.

“God, you even sound like an old movie. You sure you weren’t cryogenically frozen in the 90’s and thawed out?” Charlie moves to a new topic, laughing at how easily Schlatt jumps into explaining the conspiracy that Walt Disney’s head was frozen when he died.

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straw-berries-ao3 · 15 days

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had been planning an overarching dsmp fanfiction universe set in scotland but the first fic i really tried to work on and flesh out had cwilbur as the main character and now i don't feel motivated to continue it 😭😭

i had a lot of ideas i was really excited about like drawing parallels to ycgma or making hybrid characters into therians to make them fit the modern world i was going for but idk

maybe I'll write fics using @ryemackerel 's au, i really like cwyllow (also if you haven't heard of TINE seriously go check it out i adore the artwork and the characterisations) i think it would be cool :p

probably gonna have to rework my story a lot though but i can proobbaabbllyy make it work

#mcyt #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #tine au #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fanfiction #dream smp fanfic #dream smp fanfiction #tine fanfic #tine fanfiction #tine au fanfic #tine au fanfiction

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faebriel · 11 months

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The man from the bar stands there, perfectly framed in the doorway – shrouded in her shadow, cast long and tall by the dim glow of redstone torches at the bar. He looks… harmless, honestly, just as politely out-of-place as he did sitting at the bar.

“Hello again,” he offers cordially.

Niki blinks again. The scene in front of her does not change.

“...you’re not supposed to be back here,” she informs him, after taking a moment to gather her thoughts.

The man’s face screws up contemplatively, features folding in on themselves like paper, and he hums.

“Ah. No, I’m not, am I.” He straightens up to his full height. “You wouldn’t believe I’m a friend of the owner, would you?”

Get your fuckin’ hands off me, a raucous voice bellows from the bar – a chorus of vicious shouts follow, as does the sound of a drunken weight colliding into a table.

“I don’t think I would,” Niki says. “Sorry.”

The man huffs out a laugh. “Not really your fault, is it,” he says, about two seconds before one of the bouncers crowds past Niki, and practically drags the man out by the scruff of his shirt.

or: an alternate take on dsmp pre-canon where niki, wilbur and schlatt were once friends, together. featuring, as of chapter one:

the horrors of being understaffed

exchanging bad first impressions with your friend's best friend

poorly-made cocktails, and those who drink them anyway

the first time niki and wilbur meet, or: the beginning of the end

and wilbur getting thrown out of a bar.

more information on ao3!

#dsmp #dream smp #nihachu #wilbur soot #rainduo #dsmp fanfic #dream smp fanfic #dsmp niki #dsmp wilbur #I SAID TWO WEEKS. I SAID TWO WEEKS AND I STUCK TO IT #anyway. really excited for this fic! hope yall like it too. etc. ily <3

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mcyt-builds-contest · 2 days

Link

Hey guys here is the fic on ao3 if you prefer to check it over here!

I’m also currently writing chapter 4 and 5!

#mcyt base contest #dream smp fanfic #< here we go again

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moondragon618 · 10 months

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Actually does anyone else remember a fic where c!Tommy thought he was having nightmares of c!Dream hunting him down and killing him every night, but it turned out c!Dream actually was killing him every night and when he "woke up" from it he was actually being revived from death? I think he found out bc he escaped from c!Dream by running to c!Phil again and then realized what was happening when he didn't "wake up" after?

I remember reading it when I first got into the fandom (so probably like late December or January 2022-ish?) and haven't been able to find it again. Literally all I remember is that it was on tumblr and I found it while looking through the tags lol. So if anyone knows wtf I'm talking about pls pls let me know <3

#dream smp #dsmp #dream smp fic #dream smp fanfic #dsmp fic #dsmp fanfic #c!tommy #c!dream #c!primeboys #c!discduo

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the-final-sif · 1 year

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hello I come bearing happy dreamnap and drunz as late payment for voter fraud:

merry christmas y'all

#sif speaks #dreblr #c!dream #dreamnap #drunz #convict childcare au #dsmp fanfic #dream smp fanfic #dsmp #dream smp #sif writes

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kaz-oooo · 4 months

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OMG!!! Kaz finally updated that one fic that’s been collecting dust for months now!!!! Whattttt????

Quick recap because.. it really has been that long : Tommy has been living under Dream’s roof all his life and wants to escape. He met a stranger in an antique store who seems to have everything Tommy wants and more.

Later that night Tommy uses Dream’s Revive Book to switch places with the stranger… things don’t really go according to plan, Tommy remains in his own body and falls asleep underneath Dream’s roof one last time.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this new update :)

(Tags under cut)

#dsmp #DSMP fanfic #Tommyinnit #Wilbur soot #crimeboys #(there’s actually crimeboys this time!!!!)#dream SMP fanfic #Technoblade #sleepy bois inc #ao3

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god1ngs · 2 years

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i shouldn't forgive you (but it's you)

foolish left you in the ruins of your home years ago. you've forgotten about it up until now, finally face to face with him.

&. c!foolish x gn!reader

word count: 4.1k words

warnings: swearing & arson

bones' note: wrote this in three hours, thought you guys might enjoy :) also my first time writng a full length fic for foolish! i hope i got the characterization right haha

Being in love is dangerous.

You’ve known this since you were a kid. Ever since your first crush, your first love, and your first heartbreak— You knew falling in love meant being forced to deal with the repercussions if something were to go wrong. Therefore, it was easier to guard your heart. You wouldn’t need to worry about the consequences of love if you never found it. You were content with it; not having someone there made your independence grow.

But your loneliness was suffocating.

You tried to convince yourself it wasn’t bothering you. You were fine being alone— You’ve come this far without anyone. Why would you need someone— but you also missed having company. With every day passing day, you felt more and more alone, until you couldn’t convince yourself you were fine being alone.

You wanted someone there. You wanted that feeling of freedom that comes with love. But you were afraid of the negatives. You were too scared to seek anyone out, too afraid of falling in love and it ending in tragedy (everything ends in tragedy, is what you tell yourself). Yet, you long for it. You dream for it. But you’ll never seek it out because of your fear.

So, you continued living your quaint life. You hunted; you fished; you gathered various berries and plants; you hoped for someone to love you; you cooked and cleaned and reorganized your house. It was a fairly small house, one of the smaller houses in your village, so you could redecorate it without moving too many items around. It was small, quaint, and you liked it that way. You were never one for the grand things anyways.

Your schedule was the same every day, one you rinsed and repeated as soon as the sun rose and as soon as it set. Then, a stranger came by your house.

He looked different than everyone in the village. He had to be a newcomer. He had golden skin that might as well have been made out of gold with the way it shined in the sun; emerald green eyes that lit up brilliantly; a robe he wore that fit him well, but also showed off the muscle underneath. You opened the door to his bright grin, arching an eyebrow.

“Hello?”

“Hello!” He responded cheerfully. “I’m new here and, well, you looked pretty welcoming! Was wondering if you could give me the grand ol’ tour of the place?” You had no idea how he could act so cheerful so early, but it made you smile slightly. As for showing him around— you had nothing better to do, so why not?

“Sure. What’s your name?” You asked, watching him beam at the confirmation.

“Foolish! And what may your name be?” Oddly, the name suited him.

“[Name]. It’s very nice to meet you, Foolish.”

“You too! Now, how ‘bout we get to that tour, hm?” He grinned.

You giggled, stepping outside and shutting your door. “Alright. Let’s go, Foolish.”

With that, you gave Foolish a tour of your village. There wasn’t much to show, considering how small the village was and how little people occupied it. There were really only the major buildings you had to show off: The Clinic, Town Hall, and the Blacksmith. Town Hall was where everyone gathered if need be. Although, it hasn’t been used in ages. It was collecting dust more than serving as a meeting place. The Blacksmith was where all the weapons were forged handcrafted by the only man you’ve ever seen handle weapons in the town. You found it weird how he was interested in the Blacksmith of all places but didn’t think too much of it.

However, Foolish’s bright energy made up for the lack of places to show him. He was still curious with everything you showed him, with a smile that hadn’t dimmed the entire time. You don’t think you’ve ever met a happier man in your life. Even you hadn’t smiled the entire time. His happiness was infectious though, occasionally making you grin every time you even looked at him. Maybe he was a wizard.

“And that.” You clapped your hands, turning to Foolish. “Concludes the tour! Hope you enjoyed everything and have a good time living here.” Foolish only seemed to brighten more, thanking you for the tour and going off somewhere. Maybe to build a house or renovate one of the abandoned ones.

A month after Foolish moved in, you had only gotten to know the man more. His cheerfulness wasn’t a onetime thing, instead he was simply happy all the time. You couldn’t wrap your head around how or why, but it was beginning to rub off on you. You’ve laughed harder in a few days with Foolish than you have in the recent months. His bright, happy attitude simply was infectious.

And maybe he was too.

You found yourself wanting to see him every day. He was in your head form the moment you woke up to the second you fell asleep. It was strange to think that, just after a few months of Foolish being here, you were already hopelessly in love with him. But you didn’t want to be. Love meant getting hurt. You didn’t want to be put through that.

But it was Foolish. Foolish who had a smile that could cheer anyone up; Foolish who had a squeaky laugh that was funnier than any joke he told; Foolish who’s shark tail would swing side-to-side every time he was excited; Foolish he couldn’t contain his happiness; Foolish who made you feel more special than anyone else ever has; Foolish who you’re in love with.

And, as you lay there in your bed that night, you come to think that maybe love couldn’t be so bad if it was with Foolish.

So, you set out for him in the morning, hoping to tell him about your feelings. You waited at the spot that you two always sat it: A tree to the east of the village. It was nice and peaceful, and you were happy you began coming there with Foolish. Time passed, and he wasn’t there. Usually, he was there before you, always up bright and early. You never knew why though.

It only took twenty minutes until you realized he wasn’t coming. Had you done something? Maybe you upset him in some way? You tried to rack your brain for anything that you could’ve done, only to come up empty handed. You didn’t remember doing anything wrong anyways. Still, you had to go and see what it was.

Your legs carried you to Foolish’s door as if it was something you had done a thousand times before. And it certainly was.

You knocked at the man’s door, waiting for a response. You didn’t get one. Odd.

“Foolish? Hey, it’s me, [Name]. Are you in there? I was waiting for you at our spot, but you didn’t show, so I got worried. Did I do something? I don’t remember hurting you, but if I did, I’m sorry. Will you please come out?”

No response. You huffed, eyebrows furrowing. You decided to take a peek in the window, standing as high as you could, but you could only see a little bit inside. His bed was made, like it always was, but Foolish was nowhere to be seen. You were worried now. What if something happened to him? What if he was kidnapped? What if—

You slapped yourself in the face. You had to be calm. Foolish was probably out doing something and would be back later today, just as he always was. He’d be back (thought it felt more like a reassurance now).

Hours passed. No signs of Foolish being back. You were growing restless, pacing in your living room, chewing on your hands. You couldn’t stop worrying about him. It was dumb, you know, but you couldn’t stop. You wanted nothing more than his safety.

Your worrying for Foolish was cut short when a scream rang out in the village. You almost thought you didn’t hear it at first, but as soon as you processed what it was, you ran outside. People were running towards you, screaming and panicking, and as you looked past them, you could see why:

Fire. Fire was spreading throughout the village, starting at one of the houses, and continuing to each and every building. You could feel the heat. Frantically, you looked around as to what could’ve caused the fire, while also trying not to get trampled in the onslaught of people. Even if there weren’t many, they were all running out the same way.

Before you could move a muscle, you spotted a figure atop a horse, holding a torch.

Foolish.

He was there. Right in front of you. You were almost happy to see him before the torch in his hand registered in your mind. You almost didn’t want to believe it. How could Foolish— The guy who you gave a tour of the village to, who’s lived here for months— even think about burning the village down? What had happened to him?”

You yelled his name. He was quick to turn around, with one hand holding the horses’ reigns and the other wrapped around the torch. Several emotions flashed across his face, before confusion and anger were set in stone. “What are you still doing here!? Go, run!” He urged you, motioning towards where everyone else was running. You stayed in place.

“Did you burn the village down!?” You yelled instead, watching the surprise flash across his face. Before, again, anger was set in stone. His eyebrows furrowed, and his grip tightened on the torch.

“I did what I had to do, [Name]. Now, go. Before you get hurt.”

With a harsh tug of the reigns, Foolish’s horse was speeding past you, the flame of the torch attaching to whatever it could. You could only watch in confusion and hurt and anger. How dare he burn the village like that? How dare he make you fall in love with him?

A tear fell down your cheek. You sniffed and wiped at it, before running as fast as you could away from your now ruined home. Your home, your love, and your town all gone within a span of minutes. You could almost laugh at it.

You were right. Everything ends in tragedy.

You ran until your legs couldn’t carry you for hours upon hours. Adrenaline still rushed through your system; the only reason you were even standing up right now, honestly. Still, it couldn’t hold you over forever. As it began wearing down, you could feel the ache in your joints, soon wincing with every move. It hurt. And it was all his fault.

With anger seeping into your heart, you passed out in the grass.

When you came to, you were met with a wooden ceiling and a severe wave of pain. You hissed, blinking wearily as to not have your eyes fill with tears. The amount of pain was something you’ve never faced before. You must’ve run longer than you thought you did.

You sat up, groaning. You raised a hand to your head, feeling it throb. You winced, looking around to see where you were; just as you thought, you had no clue. Great.

Squeaking made you sneap your head to the entrance, seeing a boy walk in with a wet towel. He looked surprised that you were awake, before cracking open the door and sticking his head out. "Tommy, they’re awake!” He shouted. While you could hear what you assumed to be Tommy running to the door, you instead focused on the boy in the doorway.

He looked young, probably around eleven or twelve. Red horns poked out from behind his hair, and you could see a horned tail swaying as well. He moved aside for another boy to come in: Tommy. He looked around the same age, with blond hair and bright blue eyes. He turned towards you. “Finally awake, eh?” He asked. You nodded.

The pair walked towards you, the shorter of the two handing you the wet rag. You sighed as you placed it on your forehead, immediate relief flooding through your system. “We found you passed out in the field,” The boy with demon horns explained. “So, we brought you here. Oh! I’m Eryn, and this is¾”

“Tommy! The one and only! All the girls love me, you know?” He cut the other off.

You snickered at him, a fond smile on your face. You’ve always liked kids. Tommy seemed to take mock offense to that, eyebrows furrowing comically and a huff coming from him. “We should’ve left you in the field,” He grumbled. Eryn elbowed him in the side.

“Tommy!”

“What!? We should’ve!”

Eryn gave a final glare, before turning towards you. “What were you doin’ out in the field anyways? Did something happen?” You tried to talk but was only able to cough. Some of the smoke must have gotten in your lungs. You groaned internally. “Oh! Right, here’s some water.” Eryn carefully handed you the water, the two boys watching you gulp it down.

Eryn took the empty cup, handing it to Tommy to refill it. He whined at him having to be the one to do it but walked off anyways. “My…” You trailed off, clearing your throat. “My village was burnt down. Not far from here, I think.” Eryn frowned.

“My village was burnt down recently too. Weird, innit?” You nodded.

“Well, this is Tommy’s village. The people here are nice. You can stay here as long as you’d like if you want. I’ve been staying here too.” He explained, a kind smile on his face. He couldn’t be any older than a preteen, and yet he had apparently had his home burnt down. How was he acting so strong about it? You didn’t have the gall to ask, so you instead opted to answer his question.

“I probably will… if that’s okay, of course.”

He smiled. “Of course. I’ll check with the guy who runs the place, but it should be fine either way.”

Tommy came barging in a second later. “I’ve got your water!”

As time passed, you were able to finally leave your bed. You were accepted as the new member of the small town, and even became more acquainted with Tommy and Eryn. You found out both of them were twelve, but Tommy was older by a few months. He, of course, held this over Eryn any time he could.

You were fond of them. They were like little brothers to you.

Years passed since you first came into the village. Tommy and Eryn were both now fifteen, and you couldn’t be prouder of them for everything they’ve done. They were bright kids who you’d now grown attached to. However, it was when they were fifteen that Tommy would have to decide between a server and his home.

The invite to the server, Dream SMP, was hand delivered by Dream. He had found out where the boy’s village was— How? You had no clue,— and was willing to invite him and one other person. Immediately, he turned to Eryn, hope shining in his bright blue eyes. “This could be a new start for us, man! Think about it! And it’s to the Dream SMP! How fucking sick is that!?”

The Dream SMP was a small server, consisting of a few people, but the people in it were popular as well. George NotFound, Sapnap Halo, and Dream WasTaken were all highly regarded people. They made the server famous by simply being it. Everyone wanted in it, so once you get an invite, you don’t turn it down.

Eryn thought differently though.

He frowned, looking around at the village. “I don’t know. I like it here, Toms. I’ve grown close with them. They’re like family to me now.” He answered, making Tommy gawk at him. “But it’s to the Dream SMP, Eryn! This village will be fine without us. Just please say you’ll go, Eryn?” Tommy tried to do puppy eyes. Eryn simply smiled at him.

“Maybe if I get an invite later on, okay? But, right now, I’m content here.” Eryn looked over at you, then back at Tommy. “But maybe [Name] would like to go.”

Tommy looked over at you. You smiled back at him. “I’m good. I’ll stay here and keep Eryn company.” You could see the relief flash in Eryn’s eyes, despite how he was willing to let you go if you wanted to. Tommy huffed but didn’t press It any further. He didn’t seem mad, just slightly upset. Which was expected.

“Wait!” He suddenly snapped, turning to Dream. “if Eryn ever gets invited to the SMP— Which I’m sure he will after you realize how amazing and awesome he is— then can he use my extra invite?”

Dream seemed to hum in thought. “Sure, kid.”

“I’m not a fuckin’ kid, prick!”

Tommy was set off with his stuff the next morning, bright and early. You and Eryn say goodbye, watching Dream open up a portal for him and Tommy to walk through. The boy gave you and Eryn one last wave, and you could’ve sworn he was tearing up. He would’ve snapped at you if you said anything though, so you merely waved. You could hear Eryn sniffling though. And maybe you were too. Just a little bit.

More than a year had gone by when someone from the Dream SMP came by again.

Neither you nor Eryn were expecting to open the door to see Sapnap. He looked intimidating, with large horns that stuck out from his head and a bright gaze that resembled a flame. He smiled at you two though, holding two slips of paper in his hands.

“Two tickets to the Dream SMP. Just for you guys, per Tommy’s request.”

You and Eryn lit up at the mention of Tommy, hurriedly packing your bags. You were happy to see him again, and you could tell Eryn was too. He missed his best friend, and you missed your pseudo little brother. As Sapnap made the portal, Eryn couldn’t stop bouncing on his heels. “How is he? Toms, I mean.” He asked.

Something came over Sapnap’s face. Sadness, guilt, and sympathy. “He’s… doing okay, I think. He’s been through a lot, but I know he’ll be happy to see you guys.” Worry started churning in your gut. What could he have been through? Hopefully only normal teenager stuff. But you were glad he’d be happy to see you and Eryn.

The Dream SMP was… chaotic, to say the least. Just the look from the spawn made you think about what could’ve happened here. Sapnap gave you guys a short tour, until you guys came up to Tommy’s house. Which was a dirt shack? You and Eryn glanced at each other but made no comment about it. Sapnap knocked on the wooden door.

“Tommy? You in there? I brought some visitors.”

There was shuffling from inside, before a voice that unmistakably belonged to Tommy began shouting. “If you don’t have any of my wives with you, then go away!” Eryn snickered at that, and Sapnap rolled his eyes.

“They’re better than any of your wives, Tommy. Just come on out.”

There was grumbling and more shuffling, before the door swing open to reveal… Tommy?

He looked different. Much different. Not only was he taller than before, his blond hair had grown out, and now had a white streak in it. His once bright eyes looked dull. Scars littered his face, and a blue cardigan covered him up. He looked sickly pale too. You couldn’t dwell on that thought, even if you were sure Eryn was doing the same thing.

“ERYN! [NAME]!” Tommy shouted.

He tackled you and Eryn, unable to contain his excitement. Just like when he was smaller. You and Eryn both laughed, quickly returning the hug. Tommy leaned back, glancing between you and his former best friend, before laughing. “You’re here! Both of you! You guys actually came! Oh, my Prime, it’s been so long!”

“Too long, man!” Eryn laughed.

They were happy. Your pseudo little brothers had reunited, and they were happy.

After the reunion, Tommy began taking you on a tour. “A better tour than a wrong’un like Sapnap could give you,” He had said. The tour was fun, and you were happy to see them so happy, until Tommy suddenly stopped.

“I know who’s builds you guys will enjoy! Let me show you to the best goddamn builder you’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

Although you and Eryn asked who it was, Tommy said that he’d save who it was for a surprise. He was most likely to be at his house anyways. So, you and Eryn followed Tommy through the Nether, to a different portal. That portal lead you all to a dessert which, as Tommy had said, was packed with wonderous buildings. You and Eryn awed at it, taking a look around for yourselves.

Tommy and Eryn had run off to look at the pyramid, but you stayed behind, looking at the large buildings. Whoever built all of it had amazing skill and too much time on their hands.

After more looking around, you heard footsteps from behind you. Tommy or Eryn, you thought. “This place is great, guys, really—” You turned around.

There, in front of you, was Foolish. Foolish from years ago. You gaped at him, and he gaped at you. “[Name]…?” He let out, taking a step towards you. That same anger from years ago that you had long forgotten came back. And it was boiling.

“Don’t say my name,” You hissed, watching him take a step back. “Don’t even speak to me. Not after what you did to my home. How fucking dare you, Foolish!?” You were yelling now, but you could care less. Years of anger that had settled at the pit of your stomach was rising to the surface now, and you were determined to let Foolish feel your wrath.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry!?” You laughed. “You should’ve been sorry years ago.”

“I was sorry years ago!” Foolish snapped, his fists clenching. He let out a sigh. “I was sorry. I am sorry. It was supposed to be a heist. And then I got attached to you and it all went wrong. I wasn’t supposed to stay there for that long, or fall in love with you, but I did!”

You stayed silent. Only some words registered for you.

“You fell in love with me?” You murmured.

His eyes softened. “Yes. I’m still in love with you. I’ve thought about you every day.” Carefully, he brings a hand to yours, engulfing it in his warmth like he had years ago. Your hand shook in his grasp, and he placed a kiss to the top of it. Somehow that only made it worse.

Your lip trembled. “How do I know you won’t hurt me again?”

“Because I’ve changed. I promise I have. Let me prove it to you. Please.”

You’re conflicted. You want to forgive him, but you don’t. It’s been years, and holding onto anger isn’t good, you know that, but you can’t help it. Not when you can still hear their screams echo in your ears. Not when you can still feel the smoke in your lungs. Yet, somehow, some part of you wants to forgive him. Why?

Because it’s him. It’s Foolish who used to make you feel like you were on cloud nine; it’s Foolish who made you feel like you put the stars in the sky; it’s Foolish who made you feel special when no one else could; it’s Foolish who made you believe in love; it’s Foolish who you’re still in love with.

And maybe that’s not so bad, as long as it’s with him.

Tentatively, you bit your bottom lip, refusing to meet his gaze. “I don’t…” You hesitate, trailing off, but one look into Foolish’s green eyes and suddenly you feel like you can take on the world (for him). “I think I can forgive you with time. But not now.”

A grin broke across his face. He shouted in glee, abandoning your hand to pick you up instead, spinning you around happily. You squealed and laughed as he did too, his infectious laugher only make you laugh more. He held you close to him, and you can see the old Foolish in him. The one that made you smile until your face hurt and laugh until your stomach hurt. Maybe you could forgive him.

“I’ll prove to you that I’ve changed,” Foolish whispers, still smiling.

You smile back at him. “I’ll be waiting.”

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