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polinamory · 14 days

Text

Just a piece of my daydreaming

tw blood torture and mention of death

At some point, Dream began to pray. There was simply nothing else to do. God's alms are his last hope. He did not even ask for release or an end to the torture. He didn't ask for food or sunlight. Dream didn't need it anymore.

He asked for death.

Any. Dream himself believed that he did not deserve a painless death. Sometimes in his prayers he wished for a knife or a sword. At least one piece of glass. Not that Dream thought he would be able to kill himself, but he wouldn't give up the right to try.

More often than not, he whispered prayers at the end of Quackity's visits.

"I wish I could bleed to death."

Then Dream tried to look as non-painful as possible, so that Quackity would think that he could stand it more. To deliver a blow that he couldn't survive. So that he doesn't have time to run to the bars for regeneration potions and a bucket of cold water.

Coming back from the dead is the worst feeling of all. When Dream was already mentally saying goodbye to everyone and allowed himself a slight smile, thinking that it was over, but then he woke up screaming on the floor again, in a puddle of water, blood and potions. And then Quackity punished him for it. Quackity did not give permission to die.

Another unpleasant experience is getting lost in days. When he lost consciousness in the process of another torture, and woke up when the bars were lowered again and Quackity started a new one.

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31 notes · View notes

itsonlydana · 2 years

Note

ok , now mcyts drunk confessing to you, dsmp characters edition

DSMP CHARACTERS CONFESSING DRUNK

pairing: c!Foolish x gn!reader / c!Wilbur x gn!reader /c!Eret x gn!reader / c!Schlatt x gn!reader

words: 6k

warnings: alcohol & being drunk, hurt/comfort, fluff

an: this took a while for me to write, whenever i started it i got distracted. You guys don't know how often i was this close to confessing everything to some of my crushes lmao. Don't do that, just because it's maybe romantic here :,)

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

FOOLISH:

Foolish and you had met through Quackity in Las Nevadas, an initially awkward first encounter in which you were both late for different reasons and ran into each other entering the hotel

as you quickly found out you both had an affinity for building, a love for architectural masterpieces and a tendency to make every building project a friendly (completely serious, depending on the result and victory your whole personality for the following week) but definitely only friendly competition

besides the competitions, raving about building styles and materials you often entertained yourselves by swimming in the sea, because you both wanted to avoid contact with hotel visitors during a trip to the pool and thus often found yourselves on the beach after a long day/night at work

Foolish's way of showing his affection were not only expensive gifts in the form of a new, faster pickaxe or a chest filled with marble blocks and other materials, all a pain in the butt to get, but also touches

when you first met he was reluctant to do this, unsure of how to place you as a new person in the social construct of Las Nevadas, but as you spent more time together these touches became more frequent

him putting his arm around your shoulders as you sat on the beach watching the sunrise/sunset after swimming, resting his head on yours when you were bent over blueprints, holding your hand as you climbed the scaffolding. Often you feel his hand light as a feather in your back when he's guiding you somewhere or you're walking through a door together (he always lets you lead the way) and it becomes especially frequent when he's completely overtired and overworked

most of the time he drops down on top of you, of course not wanting to bury you completely under his muscles, but then as soon as he is lying on top of you, one arm wrapped around you and his nose buried in the crook of your neck, he falls right asleep.

Sometimes he reaches for your hands for no real reason and he never explains himself either. He intertwines your hands and gets on with whatever he's working on at the time

The ice clinked against the rim of your glass as you twirled the crystal straw around in the cocktail. It wasn't on the menu yet, "a secret just for you," as Foolish had explained to you with a wink after you'd dropped tiredly onto one of the now-empty barstools in Las Nevada's club with a desire for something strong. Foolish, whose wink had glistened just like the deep red drink in front of you, stood behind the bar, a glass of his own in his hand, leaning wearily against the countertop. He had his eyes closed, exhaustion after a long night of filling the thirsty mouths of countless tourists and probably turning down hundreds of chat up lines on his face.

He looked good enough to eat, though, you thought to yourself, and let your eyes slide over his relaxed figure, shamelessly and bold now that he rested his. The tight black pants flattered his well-toned legs, especially thighs very much and also the vest, which he had taken off after the last customer and thrown over the bar, had stretched over his chest. The self-confident Foolish, easily showing off his good looks and fishing for tips, was through the door, in front of you was a picture that only you got to see.

His white shirt which he wore under his vest had slipped at the hem in some places out of its tidily smooth form tucked into his trousers and hung over the shiny gold belt loop, he had rolled up his sleeves carelessly, well as far as the fabric would allow with his strong upper arms, and two of the many small buttons were unbuttoned so that you could see the calming rise and fall of his chest. His long hair, otherwise tied in a braid, was now messily twisted behind his head, presenting his tense jaw and sharp cheekbones in the dim light of the bar.

You tilted your head, propped on your left hand, and took another sip of the cocktail. You knew the warm feeling in your stomach wasn't just from the alcohol, you felt it too often for that when you were sober.

The jukebox in the corner crackled softly as the record was changed and a new one was automatically put on, this time a much slower one. The first notes echoed through the empty bar, filling the comfortable silence between you and Foolish with a tune familiar to both of you, at which Foolish opened his eyes.

Your gaze was still on him when his met his, and for a moment you just looked at each other before Foolish's voice quietly drowned out the melody and the loud thumping in your chest:

"Would you like to dance?"

Normally you would have teased him for such a question or made a joke about your lack of dancing skills, but something was different today. You couldn't put your finger on what it was. Maybe it was the warmth in the rosy red sunrise that bathed Las Nevadas pink and fell through the glass doors into the bar. Maybe it was that something in Foolish's gaze as he walked around the bar and you accepted his outstretched hand with a smile. Or maybe it was the weariness of a long night, doused with many drinks, the taste of which made your lips taste sweet and your stomach do cartwheels.

Foolish led you to the center of the room, into the warm cone of one of the last remaining switched-on spotlights that bathed you both in its golden light. Any eye ogling was forgotten as soon as Foolish put his hands at your sides. Never looking away from his loving gaze you raised your hands and placed them in his neck, at the touch of your hands cooled by the glass and ice you felt the goosebumps on his skin under your fingertips, but your tongue was numb and another teasing comment remained unspoken.

It wasn't really dancing, just a slow swaying back and forth so lost in each other's gaze that you didn't even hear the record stop and none follow.

As your fingers unconsciously began to trace indefinable patterns, circles and gentle movements on the back of Foolish's neck he exhaled a quivering breath that shook his chest. You felt from his tight grip, not tight enough to hurt you, how hard he was straining to stand up straight, his head probably heavy with fatigue, alcohol, and the many thoughts that had just made themselves known at the bar in a furrowed brow and contracted eyebrows.

You repeated the movement in his neck, wandering your fingers higher to the base of his hair where it was slightly twisted for his braid. Without giving it much further thought, you released the clasp that had pinned the black hair far too tightly. As you began to carefully comb through the thick and velvety hair, his arms pulled you closer to him until no sheet of paper would have fit between you.

Foolish's head tipped forward slightly as he let himself fall completely against you. With a tired sigh and a yawn, he leaned his head against yours before sinking forward even further and resting his forehead on your shoulder. His breath hit the free skin on your neck hotly. You felt the words even before they reached your ears, the movement of his lips against your neck almost more distinct than the actual words.

"I love you."

A tremor ran through your body as his arms slipped from your sides and wrapped completely around you, pressing your clearly smaller body against his broad chest as he clarified the meaning of that great confession with every touch.

And you loved him too with all your heart and every thought, but you would tell him that tomorrow. Now you were showing him by holding him.

ERET:

even before Eret was officially crowned king of the SMP by Dream, you had made it your mission to always be at his side

not only because of his good looks, but also because you had often enough talked about a shared vision of freedom, your hearts far away in the distance while lying in front of black and yellow walls and imagining what it would be like to be somewhere else

one night he had taken your hand, pulled you with him on the caravan and pointed to a spot in the darkness, between tall fir trees swaying in the night wind and promised you to run there as soon as the walls were gone

that night you probably felt it for the first time, the leap in your heart and the tingling in your stomach, but these feelings had no place in the revolution and you repressed them - later

life went on, time took what it wanted and fate played with events as if they were a part of a play and not reality, where every action had serious consequences. Eret won something, Eret lost something and you stayed by his side no matter what happened and the tug in your heart became sometimes stronger, sometimes less - later

he declared you his most loyal knight on a lukewarm summer night, a grin on your faces as he struck Ted's wrath on your shoulders and gave you a sword in netherite, which you never took off since then

you were inseparable, finding comfort in each other's presence even when his touches set your skin on fire and the reality of your platonic relationship dipped your head in icy water

sometimes the lines between friendship and work blurred, ending up in unattractive expressions shouted in the heat of the argument, which you regretted afterwards in the lonely silence

to always remind you of your position, not as desired as a lover, but as the most faithful friend and protector, you always carry a photograph, clamped in the breastplate of your armor, on which you kneel before Eret, one hand placed on your heart, the other on his black shoe tips, and on which he, in his voluminous red coat and golden crown, places Ted wrath on your right shoulder

To say you were running through the castle would be an understatement, you were sprinting, your feet barely seemed to touch the ground and only one question was burning in your mind:

"What if I'm not fast enough?"

When one of the maids had stormily knocked, no hammered, on your bedroom door in the early morning, you had immediately been on your feet, the book in which you had lost yourself had been left open on your bed, neatly made for the sleep you didnt get in the night.

That's all she had to say, that's all you needed to hear. You flew like a whirlwind around the last corner where several servants stood with nervous looks in front of the high, closed doors to the throne room and you snapped at them with a slightly sharper, "Don't you have work to do?" that quietly dispersed the crowd chattering. Now alone in front of the door, you raised a hand to the doorknob and slowly pushed it down.

"The king," she had stammered when you had invited her in.

"What about Eret?" you had asked, your heart loud and hammering in your chest

"He is drunk and has thrown everyone out of the throne room. We fear a little for him, he had seemed upset after the ball"

"I have told you to leave," Eret's deep, slightly slurred voice rang out as soon as you opened the door. He didn't sound as angry and threatening as he might have hoped, though; the words trembled, pronounced much more through grief than anger.

You pushed through a narrow crack in the door and shut it quickly behind you, not wanting any of the servants to catch even the slightest glimpse of the almost pathetic sight of their king, for that would make for rumors spreading like wildfire beyond your control to suppress.

Immediately, your concern reached its peak, and you rushed across the room to drop onto the steps in front of him. His red dress flowed like water down his slender form, the same color as that in his cheeks stained by tears and most likely alcohol. On the floor lay an empty bottle of wine, also red.

But it was truly pathetic.

The walls were still adorned with the decorations of the previous night's ball, scarlet curtains and banners, red rose vines scrambling up the walls, milky cloths through which you had danced only a few hours ago hung ghostly in the room, which looked like an abandoned painting without the mask-clad people and the violin music, and in the middle of it all Eret. He was stretched out on the steps in front of his throne, his crown and his blood-red mask lying on the seat, to which he had turned his back. He had his eyes squeezed shut, and though he rested his head on one arm and hid his face slightly in the crook, you saw the telltale wet glisten on his cheeks.

"What's wrong, Eret?" you tried to bring him out of the thoughts he had probably plunged into, as he so often did. He disappeared into this world where he was getting caught up in things and worrying about events that were completely different. It was a place you couldn't follow him to, no matter your promise to be with him always and everywhere. To you, it felt like a breaking of that very promise, a betrayal and simultaneous heartbreak that you couldn't be where he probably needed you most, that you could never be there.

Eret's response to your question was absent except for an aborted sob. You slid closer on the step, placing an arm gently on his shoulder. "Eret? Come on, it's me, you can talk to me, can't you?"

"That's the problem" Ouch... "You're part of my problem" Double ouch "I don't think this problem would exist without you" You were sure your heart couldn't break into smaller splinters and yet Eret proved you wrong in this hope. He opened his eyes, stared at you through his pearly white pupils and stood up with a jerk. The dress rustled with the frantic movement, falling down on him no longer smooth and noble, but crumpled and moistened with alcohol and tears as he staggered trying to find his footing. You had jumped up with him, puzzled and hurt at the sudden cold shoulder, when just hours ago you had been dancing together.

"Eret-," you took a step toward him, he stumbled back two. "Eret cut the bullshit and tell me what's going on now!" you commanded in a shaky voice, you didn't know how to deal with all the emotions that were bubbling up inside you and threatening to sweep you off your feet just thinking about how he had flinched away from you and the warmth in his gaze had been replaced by a cold, impenetrable wall, but something was very wrong with Eret. It had been your promise, your oath to be faithful, where you had given yourself to him completely, with all your heart, and you couldn't ignore that because of your own weakness for him. He needed you, even if his words went through your feelings like sharp knives.

Eret fell backward against his throne and raised a hand waveringly, pointing at the doors with a stone-hard facade. "Go, leave me alone, that's what you're going to do anyway".

"I beg your pardon, what?" You thought you were the one who had been drinking, because what he said definitely made no sense. Confused, you looked at him. "Where did you come up with such nonsense? Why and where would I go, please?"

He laughed out, but not in the deep and full laugh full of joy, he was exasperated. "I know you danced with Sapnap, i saw you two dancing more than you danced with me! You danced with Sapnap and couldn't stop listening to all the great things he said about Kinoko. At least admit you'd rather live there and don't lie to me." Eret took a shaky breath.

You exhaled shakily. Tears threatened to burst from your eyes as you saw the fear in Eret. "I won't leave you," you whispered, because if you spoke louder, you wouldn't be able to hold back the tears and you would both cry, and then you wouldn't be able to help him. Again you took a step toward him, up the steps, until all you had to do was reach out your hand to bridge the remaining distance between you.

Eret looked up, his cheeks wet with fresh tears, and he sobbed out. "I love you, please don't leave me. I don't want to be alone"

The pile of broken pieces reassembled into your heart at the confession you had dreamed of for so long, only to be destroyed again when Eret helplessly reached for your hand, as if you would want to flee from him now that he had laid his feelings openly down to you. But you wouldn't, there was no reality in which you would ever leave Eret, could leave him.

"I love you too," you answered him honestly "I love you and I'm not going anywhere, do you understand that? Nowhere where you are not too. You'll never get rid of me Eret, never again".

It wouldn't be easy to convince him of this confession later, you would have to sit down quietly and talk about all the changes ahead of you, but when Eret pulled you into a desperate kiss that tasted like fruity wine and salty tears, everything was okay, at least for the moment.

WILBUR:

Wilbur was a man of many things, he mastered the power to give uncertain and lost people the feeling of togetherness and family, he could draw the best out of the most hopeless situations and awaken in everyone the desire to want to fight for something

Wilbur was also a man for whom and his words you fell without wanting to ever to be caught, completely and with all your heart

he had picked you up, like everyone else in L'Manburg he had taken you in and given you a purpose

you had supported Wilbur in the election, were hard at work writing notes at every debate, and spent long nights with Will thinking about next steps

after Schlatt banished Wilbur and Tommy from Manburg, you followed them to Pogtopia, packed all your things in a bag and stepped out of your house without once looking back

Wilbur was your constant, your rock without whom you would sink hopelessly in the merciless world, and you became his muse, the cause for which he wanted to fight. Not that you told the other, you showed it in the things you did for each other

there were days when he showered you with affection, told you at every opportunity how proud he was of you and how glad he was to have met you. On those days he reached for your hands, hugged you or blew a kiss on your cheek, after which you always touched the place where just a moment ago his lips had been feather-light, in disbelief.

you never defined what exactly you were, lovers, friends, soul mates, two hearts found in the darkness, giving each other comfort and light for an uncertain period of time, a temporary relationship.

there were nights when Will needed your company, holding you close, and when you were his anchor, his salvation from drowning in fears of the future and the great something that was approaching and lurking in every shadow of the cave that had become your home.

there were moments when you were the only one who could pull Will away from the abyss, moments when he wanted to give up everything or, on the complete contrary, was about to rush out and take the problem out of the world

your "relationship" was a flame, a flaming heat that engulfed everything and to which you surrendered as an escape from reality and a dream of a future for which you both fought

Every evening there is this one moment between sunset and night. A brief moment when the sun has already disappeared behind the horizon, the last pink and purple clouds drift across the sky, and the all-consuming darkness approaches.

A moment when there is no time, just Wilbur and you.

It was quiet in Pogtopia, Techno and Tommy had retired to their beds, with the flicker of a lantern still lighting the cave walls from the corner of Techno's small area, casting your and Will's shadows against the gray stones.

The shadows fascinated Will, and for several minutes he had been raising your interlocked hands and twisting them in all directions, spreading his fingers and laughing in excitement when he recognized an animal in the shadows. He was drunk, the empty bottle of wiskey lying beside him on the crossbar, and his breath with each laugh smelled of firewood, pines, and cigarettes. He was drunk, again, and had been pacing back and forth madly in an office knocked into one of the walls, tussling his hair over mysterious plans. Plans he didn't even share with you. He was drunk, and yet you had followed him up your beam, a sturdy piece of wood that reached across the ravine. It was placed directly under the only gap to the outside, you couldn't see much as bushes and foliage obstructed your view of the sky, but the last golden rays of the setting sun still made their way through the dark greenery and gently brushed your face.

You turned your head to look at Will. His eyes were still focused on the shadows, pupils large and lips slightly parted he looked at the wall until he felt your gaze and turned as well. His brown stubborn hair hung in his face and as you reached out a hand to brush it away, you felt the dust and grit in what used to be hazel brown hair. They had turned gray, lacking the shine and shimmer, just as the spark in Will's eyes was missing.

No, it wasn't missing, it was different.

Once it had been revolution, a stirring power had been in his eyes, sweeping you off your feet like a tidal wave and at the same time holding you carefully when you lost your footing. Today you saw little of that, of the slightly youthful recklessness, the fun, the will to make something happen even when it seems almost impossible. Now there was rage in his gaze, rage that would strike mercilessly over you and everyone in its path, drowning you beneath its waves if you couldn't swim.

"You look sad," Will said after a while.

You shrugged your shoulders. "Do I?"

He nodded, his dark eyes roaming over your face and lingering on your pressed-together lips. "You often look sad," his gaze continued to linger on your lips and he ran his tongue over his own "Is there anything I can do to make you happier?" he asked. He was already turning his upper body closer to you, the beam creaking under the slight movement.

Again you shrugged your shoulders. You ran your fingers over the back of his hand, over his bandaged knuckles and rough skin. "You could tell me what you and Tubbo are plotting for the festival".

The words echoed off the walls of Pogtopia, smothering any sound, and though they were inescapable between you, Will didn't answer, but put his lips to yours. You kissed him back, with the desperation of someone drowning, clinging to anything remaining familiar, because in all the chaos of Pogtopia, the change in the man who leaned over you and put his hand behind your head, the feel of Will's lips was still the same. He kissed you so he wouldn't have to answer, and yet every movement of his lips spoke for what was unsaid.

"I love you," Will murmured into the kisses, the words as raw as his lips and tasting more bitter than the alcohol on his tongue.

"I love you," he repeated those three words and you sensed he meant them, sensed the emotion in his drunken kisses. It's the truth.

"I love you," he said louder as he pressed his forehead against yours and your interlocked hands lay between your bodies.

For a moment, time stands still. The last rays of the sun move across the gap in the cave, illuminating your sanctuary in pink and gold, and you see a spark in Will's gaze, befuddled by whiskey and a dream of a future close enough to touch.

"I love you," Will whispers, and you see tears glisten in his eyes. It sounds like a promise.

The moment passes, darkness takes over the sky and the flicker of Techno's lamp goes out, taking the shadows with it and the last bit of light. Night falls, crushing and harsh and lonely.

The moment becomes the past, and though the sun will rise again tomorrow and set again tomorrow, you know it will never be the same.

"I love you," Will speaks into the silence. An apology for what will come with the sunrise.

You swallow hard, trying to remember the feel of his lips on yours, chasing their trail, and it grows heavier, receding further and further into the distance, like a dream that had slipped from your fingers. "I love you too"

SCHLATT:

the first time you met Schlatt, he had watched one of Will's speeches from a distance, a power in a black suit and a stern expression on his face that had twisted into a grin at your dry "What a load of bullshit"

you didn't make it easy for him, you stayed out of his way when he clearly tried to approach you during walks through Manburg and Schlatt loved a challenge

he invested a lot of time getting to know you, inviting you on dates that sometimes you didn't show up for because you didn't feel like it and other times you knocked on his office door at night, deprived of sleep and bored. You knew he was staying longer in the White House than anyone else, so you enjoyed the time alone, playing a game of chess or poker

you finally let him into your heart, accompanied him to political events, dragged him to museums or on long walks through nature, on which you - far away from the eyes of the world and hungry paparazzi - let yourselves fall into the high grass and just watch the rustling of the leaves above you, your hands intertwined

it was on one of these walks that Schlatt kissed you for the first time. You were lying side by side in the grass, Schlatt propped up on his arm and stroking your cheek with one hand before he leaned down and breathed a soft kiss on your lips. You had put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down to you, deepening the kiss

After the kiss everything was different, changed for the better. Schlatt took your hand in public whenever he felt like it, ran away with you from journalists and you spent many nights in his office cuddled up on the couch

he gave you many expensive gifts, jewelry, clothes, armor, swords, everything you looked at or thought about was at your home a few days later, wrapped in white paper with a red bow around it

despite this intimate relationship, you did not know exactly what your status was, or what Schlatt hoped to gain from it. He was an important man who gave daily speeches to the press or the citizens, spoke of Manburg's plans for the future and made promises, but he had never once said a single word about his feelings, about your plans for the future

it was what you had been afraid of when you fell in love with him and let him get close, you hoped it would not be your downfall

Laughing, you slapped Schlatt against his chest with your free hand as he once again took your words and twisted them. "Of course not," you replied, and Schlatt's feigned horror turned into a self-satisfied grin, "I doubted your execution skills," you added cheekily, which resulted in a pecking index finger to your side, which made you squeak away and press closer to Schlatt. The man pressed a kiss into your hair before his previously attacking hand intertwined with yours again. "No, it's really quite fabulous," you handed him an olive branch of peace to avoid being pulled into yet another tickle attack and let your gaze wander over the colorful Manburg Festival.

"I must say, you've outdone yourself"

"Oh, so you doubted me and my fantastic planning skills?"

The meadow in front of the big podium had been transformed into every fair lover's dream overnight. Colorful booths had sprung up like flowers, offering everything from sweets to savory treats, souvenirs and games, decorated with colorful flags fluttering in the light breeze and self-painted signs. You recognized many of the games, duck fishing, can throwing, dunk the man and even some unfamiliar ones were there that almost piqued your interest even more.

Schlatt watched your wide eyes shining with anticipation for a while, giving you time to take it all in while his gaze was on you, warm and full of emotions that would answer some questions if you would just turn your head slightly and look at him.

But that's exactly what you didn't do, you consistently looked at everything but him for the simple reason that you were afraid to tell him the truth about your feelings to his face. Instead, you pulled him in the direction of a booth, Schlatt smiling behind you.

As it turned out, Schlatt wasn't the best at sack races, not even close. While he tried to somehow hold on to the edge of the sack he was up to his hips in, one kid after another jumped past him across the fenced-in meadow. Again and again he looked desperately at you, but you continued to motivate him with loud clapping, which many of the other bystanders joined in when they realized that it was the president who was stumbling across the meadow. Your heart leapt more than Schlatt, the sight of him in the midst of this happy scene spurred fantasies in your head to a future filled with such events and family-friendly games.

The rest of the day was similar... warm, just with a few more drinks and shots that Schlatt wanted to drink everything nicer with, because "if I hear one more kid screaming I'm going to blow this all off," but despite his slightly grumpy demeanor when there were a bunch of toddlers screaming on the mini Ferris wheel behind you, you saw his smile at other moments. It was once again his "I think it's stupid that I enjoy this" reaction to experiences in which he would rather slip into his Mr. Politician role because it was easier, instead of opening up to something new. At the very beginning of what was between you, whatever it was, you had often noticed it, the mask behind which Schlatt hid his insecurity, but slowly it disappeared and you kept getting to know new sides of him. For example, the lack of talent for sack race

You moved from one stand to the next, hand in hand, arm in arm. Time flew by and as you headed for one of the last remaining tents, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon and only a few pink clouds drifted across the darkened night sky. Your cheeks were warm from all the laughing and shots you'd had with Schlatt throughout the day, and you felt like you were floating up there with the clouds. Your lips were sticky from the cotton candy the two of you had just shared behind one of the tents, you snuggled into his side while he complained about how sweet the cotton candy tasted and could hardly get enough of your sweet lips afterwards.

At your laughter, he turned, his cheeks pink and golden and his gaze admonishing and playful and full of warmth. He reached for the next ball, which just barely brushed the top can of the largest pyramid, and it fell backwards onto the floor of the tent with a lonely "klank." At Schlatt's exasperated expression, you suppressed another laugh, but ended up snorting, deceived as a cough, which earned you another "Hey!" from Schlatt.

You leaned your hip against the booth's wooden counter, your gaze much more focused on Schlatt than on the pyramids of cans and bottles set up as targets in the tent. As much as you wanted to focus on how he was living up to his promise of knocking over all the cans in one throw -well, doing his best- your heart was running in completely different directions.

The many strings of lights dangling and spun across the square bathed Schlatt in a warm, golden light, and he never looked better. His curls were tousled, a crown of daisies lay between his horns and in the brown hair, and Schlatt had never once made an effort to remove them, not even when you had encountered Quackity. He leaned slightly over the counter, one ball in his hand and the other he used to imagine a wobbly throwing line, which in planning might have worked somehow, in implementation, however, the ball landed neither in the cans, nor in the bottles but fell from his hand backwards into the grass.

"Feel free to buy more throws if you want to win one of the bigger stuffed animals," the young man behind the counter interjected, a money-making charming grin on his lips.

Schlatt grumbled as he took the last of his three balls from the basket and examined it.

You took a step closer to him, gently placing a hand on his upper arm. "You don't have anything to prove, you know that, right?" you spoke softly that the vendor couldn't hear any of it over the din of the still-full festival. "The evening was great enough, I don't expect a cuddly toy, really".

"Bullshit," Schlatt clicked his tongue and stood up straight. You could see the alcohol on him, but also the pure determination now more than ever to win you something. He turned slightly so he could better aim his throwing arm at the cans, then turned to you with a big grin. "I love you, and I'm going to get you that stuffed animal, cost it all the world! Hell, I'll buy out the booth otherwise!"

The muffled tinkling and clattering of falling cans following these world stopping words only reached you dully, in your ears echoed "I love you! he loves me. i love you! he loves me. i love you! he loves me." In one beat with the beating of your heart. You didn't know how you could take the next breath when Schlatt had just completely turned the world upside down. Nothing you could say or do seemed even remotely important enough to equal what Schlatt had just thrown at you.

It wasn't until Schlatt spoke your name several times, each time with a little more concern in his voice, that your eyes found his. Everything was still stopped around you, you heard nothing but your own blood in your ears.

"You love me?" you asked quietly in disbelief, unsure if it had really happened or was a game of your drunken brain.

Schlatt paused in his movement, looking at you with wide eyes and his arms wrapped around a big teddy bear.

"Haven't I told you yet? Don't tell me I've never told you I love you".

Silently you shook your head, but slowly the words got through to you and a smile played around your lips. "I love you," you grinned now, wide and with butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach, "I love you too."

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proudfreakmetarusonniku · 2 years

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To my dearest, Tommy,

It’s been a while since I’ve wrote, hasn’t it? I know you must have been lonely, and I’m sorry. I'd assumed after Wilbur had gone through all that effort for you, he'd at least keep you some company, but I guess not! But no worries! Now he's gone, I'll be able to make sure you don’t have to be alone. Isn’t that exciting? I've got so much fun stuff planned.

My condolences over Wilbur leaving, by the way. I mean, Utah! Can you believe it? How cruel you must be, to leave your brother for Utah of all places. Actually, that reminded me of something funny. I realised in the prison that you and me look quite similar, actually! Honestly, we'd probably pass as siblings much easier than you and Wilbur ever did. And I'd certainly never abandon you to go to Utah. If for some Prime damn reason I ever went, I’d drag you kicking and screaming!

I'm just saying, if you ever need a big brother who won’t abandon you, I've got room in my heart to take you in like Wilbur once did for you.

Is the detective business doing well? I'd certainly be willing to be a client, if you won’t throw a fit about it. There are many mysteries on this server, and I’d benefit from them being solved. And for payment… how does ruling together sound? I could use a protege, y’know? I’m sure you’d prefer it to being an experiment, right? Since you’re my best friend, I’ll let you make that choice, though.

Speaking of, how’s Tubbo? I hope you’ve been enjoying your meals out. It’s really funny to see how hard you pivot to avoid talking about any of our time together, honestly. Are you worried he'll get jealous if he finds out you have a better friend than him? Don’t worry, I’d protect you from a dumb ram if that happened! You have good tastes in restaurants, by the way. What a coincidence we'd choose the same, at the exact same times!

Hah, of course not. I have eyes everywhere, Tommy, don’t you ever forget that. I know you think I’m lying, but if there’s one thing from here that you should believe, it’s this: I am watching over you. I'm almost like your guardian angel, really! I mean, you’d be surprised at how much I’ve protected you from.

I have great plans for you, y’know. You are my dearest friend, and your defiance, while a pain in the ass sometimes, was what drove this whole wild game to start in the first place, and it’s been a blast, hasn’t it? A bit bloody but, hey, you started it. I'd say it’s your fault, but there’s nothing to fault you over. What’s a bit of death if it’s entertaining enough? Our game will not end. I will make sure of that. In time, I know you’ll see it’s what’s right. You’re such a smart kid, after all.

Watching faithfully over you

Your best friend, Dream :)

#dream smp #primeboys (derogatory)#dream smp writing #dsmp writing #c!tommy #c!dream #tw obsession #tw possessive behaviour #tw referenced kidnapping #tw threats of torture #tw referenced human experimentation #tw stalking #tw abuse #tw victim blaming #it’s up to interpretation how much of this is c!dream being a lying shit #and how much is genuine truth #bc that is how he tells lies most effectively: by being suprisingly truthful alongside them #also I didn’t mean to write this it just happened please help

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sioster · 1 year

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Prometheus sat on a Caucasian cliff. He no longer was tormented by the mountain birds, tearing his stomach open in an endless cycle of pain he endured every day. When he was first freed, he built a home on rocks stained with his blood.

The titan observed, and saw.

People using fire, his own gift to them, but no longer in the same way as before- they did not follow his advice and guidance. His creations no longer did use fire to keep warm, fend off wild beasts with gleaming eyes nor for cooking, creating, making.

They used it for destroying, breaking, and killing. He saw disobobedient towns set ablaze- turned into ashes with the help of his present.

The immortal flexed his emaciated fingers.

He suffered for his dear miracles' sake once, he will do everything it takes for the good of his best work ever- the humanity.

The half god breathed.

His name was Dream.

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higher-spaces · 2 years

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there is a boy, and sometimes he is haunted by a ghost in a yellow sweater.

the ghost is the boy's brother, and he's much more cheerful than he was when he was alive. when the boy looks up at him to say something, the ghost's smile stops him every time. the ghost is his brother, and on days like this where the sky is a deep gray and pouring down a coastal storm, he is nowhere to be found. the boy, without both ghost and brother, sits with his ankles in the sea. he is trying to see if the brine is a different temperature than the raindrops, but he can't quite stay focused enough to decide. instead, his mind is waiting. he is waiting for approaching steps and the clank of plate armour to emerge from the portal to greet him. he is waiting for the shockwave of an explosion. he is waiting for his best friend to come sit next to him. he is waiting to hear his brother light a cigarette. but his brother is dead, and all that is left is a ghost, and in the rain, there isn't even that. he doesn't know what he wants to say. he doesn't know if he's ever felt like this before. a droplet lands on his knee and runs down his leg into the surf. he decides that the rain is colder than the sea.

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omegamoo · 2 years

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i am in a constant state of thinking about how the dream smp is fulled by love

#dream smp #cclingy #dsmp #dream smp writing #ctommy #ctubbo #moo's writing #<- :DDD #first time posting writing here ever i hope it's good :)))

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flum3n · 2 years

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The Museum

I do it and I can’t regret it because what would the world be outside of this box? The crown shatters like glass, the fighting dies down and every golden window glow is snuffed out and I don’t regret it. Instead I collect it - attempt to trace time around my turning point, show people what I’ve done like public castigation like an apology but will never regret it. Maybe that makes me a monster when I blink the darkness from my eyes or maybe I’m just a person living in a world they can’t take back.

#ceret #eret #dsmp #dream smp #dream smp poem #c!eret #dream smp writing #original poem #original poetry #poetry #poem #writblr #dream smp lore #the final control room #regret #remembering #not flower language #again #i apologise

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fifteenth-entity · 2 years

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... peekaboo, @enderpearlnecklace :) Sooo I hope you enjoy your gift! I had an absolute BLAST working on it, and I hope that comes through in the fic itself, and I hope this is within the limits of what you asked me??;; fantasy is a lil tricky thank you to @oceansblessings for the beta-reading help! and thank you to @mcytblraufest for organizing the event! Happy summer!

#mcytblr AU fest #dream smp #dream smp techno #dream smp philza #dream smp ranboo #dream smp tommy #dream smp writing #dream smp au #hehehe #aaaa its been so long since ive written fantasy #this was nice

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polinamory · 6 days

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translated one of my recent works. tbh worried that I've made a lot of mistakes but anyway

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55184077

“I was just walking around the neighborhood and noticed that your light was on. I come in, and you're lying here half-dead.”

“And how long has the light been an invitation to enter?”

///

Tommy got sick on MCC's day, and Dream was there. The actins take place during the early L'manberg period.

#dsmp #dream smp #ctommy #dsmp dream #cdream #dream smp writing #dsmp fanfic #dsmp writing #dream smp fanfiction #discduo #disc duo #dream and tommy #MCC

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itsonlydana · 2 years

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Heyo Dana :D you have the same name as one of my irl friends lol, anyways can I get a sbi + winged little sibling reader? Like maybe hybrid school au and their the only winged hybrid so they feel a bit out of place or smth- idk it's just an idea I needed out of my brain. Anyways have a good day and make sure you drink some water and eat something!!

"those who don't mind matter"➷ sleepy bois inc

➛ pairing: c!sbi & winged sibling!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

➛ idea: being the only winged hybrid in your new school took a toll on your self-confidence, but that is nothing that can't be fixed by some good old cuddling on the couch with your family

➛ words: 2,1k

➛ tags/warnings: fluff, tiny bit of hurt/comfort, swearing

➛ an: your friend is like soo cool because of that name! I apologize for how long it took me to write this- tbh i lost motivation to write sbi for a while but now i finally sat down and wrote it in one go. Hope you enjoy it anon!

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

you were never insecure about your wings - how could you be when from an early age you were praised by your family for them and any insecurity was smothered in the bud before they could even sprout

even if three of your older brothers were wingless, they tried their best so that you would not feel different. You loved each other for your differences

especially in the early days when your wings were growing and you had to learn how to use them, you did not feel alone, for Phil walked every step with you by his hand and guided you through all the new and unfamiliar things that he had to go through as well

he gave you flying lessons with Techno, Will and Tommy cheering you on from the ground (and rushing to help when it looked like you were going to crash)

all four of them helped you preen your wings, a task each of them performed with care, pride and honor. It was hard for you to groom your wings alone, but as soon as you realized it was time again, all you had to do was sit in front of one of your brothers, and immediately they knew what to do

it was relaxing and strengthened the bond and trust between you all the more, made you feel like family even if you were not blood related

when the invitation to Hybrid School came, Phil was the most excited and raved about the wonderful memories of his school days filled with friendships and adventures. You just had to bring up the subject and a dreamy smile spread across his face and his gaze disappeared into the distance

even if you weren't sure what it would be like to be in a new environment with complete strangers and to be away from your family for several hours a day, Phil was happy enough for both of you - besides, things couldn't be all that bad

The front door clicked into place with a barely audible "clack," and the handle was released as quietly as it could be with that creaky thing. It seemed to work, because the clatter of dishes from the kitchen didn't stop, nor did the clamor of Tommy and Will from the brightly lit living room. You would have to pass both rooms to walk up the stairs to your own bedroom, and so you stopped indecisively in the dark hallway, the straps of your backpack clutched tightly in your hands.

From the smells coming from the kitchen, Phil was probably cooking your favorite meal, just as he had promised you: "After your first day of school, I'll cook you whatever you want and then you can tell us how great it was!" You were looking forward to finally being able to wish for dinner without Tommy complaining, but now you weren't sure if you would be able to eat a single bite; even swallowing was difficult because of the lump in your throat. And then there were the rocks in your stomach and the loss of appetite, despite the prospect of your favorite freshly cooked meal that Phil must have gone to extra trouble for today.

You leaned slightly to the side, brushing off your one shoe with one foot and then the other, pushing the pair you'd already worn through to the pile of other shoes lying around in front of the shoe rack where only Phil's shoes were on the otherwise empty bars. Unfortunately, in doing so, you stepped on one of the floor ledges, which groaned loudly enough at even the slightest touch to wake the whole house. Tense, you held your breath.

"(y/n)?" you heard Phil call over the rumbling that was coming from the living room.

Crap

Before you could answer, the blond was already poking his head into the hallway, as expected a gleam on his face that made your worry of disappointing him run cold down your neck. "I didn't hear the door at all. Take off your jacket and come in, dinner's almost ready. You don't even have to help anymore, just sit at the table. I'm sure you can't wait to tell us about your day, we're all very excited mate!"

During his flow of words you could hardly look Phil in the eye. Instead, you dropped your backpack on the floor. For a moment you considered storming up the stairs and fabaricading your door. If you didn't get out, the others couldn't get in either, and you wouldn't have to answer any questions, and you wouldn't have to get out tomorrow!

The plans you made in your mind were thwarted by two giants rushing out of the living room, because suddenly you found yourself in the arms of Will and Tommy and how could you keep your dams up?

A sob drowned out every sound and silenced the excited questions of your brothers and one sob was followed by another and within seconds you were pressing your tear stained face against Will's familiar yellow sweater. It happened in a matter of seconds, the crash in the kitchen as Phil dropped everything and stormed into the hallway. Even Techno's room door on the second floor opened, even if he couldn't possibly have heard the crying, and flew down the stairs.

"What happened? Did something happen?" asked Techno, visibly ready to take on anyone who was even slightly to blame for your condition.

"(y/n), hey everything is fine," Will tried to reassure you, one arm wrapped around you and the other patting your head lovingly. You didn't want to let go of him at all, your hands were clasped behind his back in an attempt to feel caught again after a day of completely out of control situations.

"School was awful," your tears quickly soaked the sweater, as soon as you started crying you couldn't hold anything back. All day you had been suppressing these feelings, trying not to let on how overwhelmed you felt being alone in this new environment and now that you were back with your family it was impossible to keep these walls up. Their love was overpowering, you didn't want to hide from them.

A meaningful silent conversation took place over you between your brothers, after which you stepped from the dark hallway into the warmth of your living room - you continuing to press against Will, for you dared not look Phil in the eye.

A cool glass of water and a shuffling around on the couch until everyone had found their place, later, you told your family about the day you'd just had. You began by saying how impressed you were with the old walls of the castle, which had served as a school for hybrids of all kinds for centuries now, and how you couldn't take your eyes off the battlements, sloping towers, and magical-looking courtyard. However, the magic of the castle and the feeling of being a part of something big and secret faded as soon as you stepped into the hall with all the other first-years and quickly realized that you were the only one with magnificent feathers. Of course, there were fairy hybrids whose fragile glassy wings glistened in the sunlight, and there had been a group of older dragon hybrids with gigantic leathery wings that could fling you into the air with a powerful push, but no one was like you. You had been startled to realize that....

"I was completely alone," you finished your narration, and again quickly drank a sip of water before tears could once again make their way up. With that burden lifted from your shoulders for the time being, you leaned against Phil to your right, exhausted. He didn't look disappointed at all, you noticed from the angle you were resting on his shoulder, much more sympathetic and as he looked down at you a warm smile played around his lips.

Tommy, sitting next to Phil with the armrest at his back and his legs intertwined like a pretzel, again screwed up his face. "But just because no one else has wings like yours, doesn't mean you're alone! There are a lot of kids and really none of these thousands wanted to be friends with you?"

"Can't get more insensitive than that, can you?", Will clicked his tongue before poking you in your left side. "You can never expect too much from your first day. Most people are overwhelmed with it anyway because it's new and unfamiliar. Don't let it get you down that you haven't found anyone to get into mischief with yet. I'm sure that will come once you all get settled." Even though he was right somewhere, you didn't dare approach anyone either, it was different.

Remembering back to the introductions in your class, how everyone had some friend or sat together in groups. "No one will want to talk to me," you sighed, raising your glass only to mumble in it as you drank, "Not after one of the cool guys said I looked like a pulled chicken."

"HE DID WHAT?" Techno's previously quiet voice filled the room like a thunderclap, sudden and loud enough to make you flinch. The pink-haired man's red eyes were able to pierce a hole through you with the sharpness in them, and you were glad that the anger wasn't really directed at you, otherwise you would have been guaranteed to run for the hills by now. Techno's back was pushed straight through, his thighs strained, and he looked like it was costing him everything not to jump up from his usually comfortable position next to Will. Will, however, didn't really look calm either, his soft gaze had become hard and he gritted his teeth under his tense jaw.

You looked from the twins, who looked more alike than ever at that moment, to Tommy. His jaw lay ready to be picked up from the floor.

One hand rested on your thigh, the other under your chin, turning your head so that you looked at Phil. He spoke your name softly, quietly and gently and full of warmth that put a band-aid on all the wounds of the day. "First, and it's the most important thing you need to know in your life, is that you are perfect just the way you are," he began and you were almost ready to cry again. You made an effort to keep looking him in the eyes, even if Phil seemed more hurt about these events than you were "and secondly, you can't let comments like that get to you, okay? The ones who think they can judge you aren't important, but the ones who don't mind matter."

"Because they're complete bullshit!" shouted Tommy indignantly, and despite the expletive, he was not admonished by Phil. Instead, the elder nodded in agreement, which only spurred the young blond to continue, "They're talking trash, irrelevant lies because they're idiots! Jerks! Ass-"

Before he could utter the last expletive, there came an urging, long-drawn-out "Tommy" after all, to which he only gave you a braces-presenting satisfied grin.

"Phil he's right" Will fell back into the couch cushions behind you and threw his legs up on the small coffee table in front of you "The little rug rat has no idea who he's messed with"

"Messed with?" Alarmed, Phil tensed next to you and his eyebrows shot up at Techno's nod.

"Messed with" Techno confirmed, looking thoughtfully around the room "We could come with you tomorrow and dangle him off one of the towers"

"Or we could dunk him in the fountain for revenge, then he'd have to walk around with wet pants on" Tommy suggested.

"Or," Phil firmly interrupted the creative exchange of ideas on how your brothers could get back at the boy "Or we approach the teacher and settle it without violence"

The three boys sighed, you began to grin. At the saddened faces, you leaned back against Will, patting Techno with one hand and smiling at Tommy. "I'm very grateful to you, but you don't have to be my bodyguards. I can handle it on my own. It was just a stupid comment from someone I don't know and from now on I'll just stay away from him."

Before you knew it Phil's wings spread out behind you all, pressing you all closer until you were lying in a heap on top of each other, arm in arm, some foot half in your stomach, but together. Maybe tomorrow wouldn't be so bad, maybe you'd even meet a friend with whom you could do all the nonsense Phil had experienced in his time at school.

And if things didn't go well, the four self-proclaimed bodyguards sitting outside the school gate in sunglasses would immediately come to the rescue.

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proudfreakmetarusonniku · 2 years

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TW for: Referenced kidnapping, emotional and physical abuse, medical/psychiatric abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, victim blaming, and extreme emotional distress. ——

A tape of a conversation between a CHILD and their THERAPIST:

(sound of a door opening, and the THERAPIST sitting on a chair.)

THERAPIST: Tommy?

(The CHILD does not respond.)

THERAPIST: Tommy, are you awake?

CHILD: Mhm. Fuck off.

THERAPIST: I'm here to help you, you know.

(The CHILD pauses.)

CHILD: ‘M sorry.

THERAPIST: It's alright, Tommy. We all forget things when we're upset.

CHILD: I wanna go home.

THERAPIST: I know, Tommy. But you’ve gotta stay here until you're better, okay? We need to be able to keep an eye on you, in case-

CHILD: I'm not going to fuckin' try and kill myself again. I promise. It's just- I feel like I'm stuck in a cell here. It's shit.

THERAPIST: It's for your own safety.

(There's a pause, and a muffled sob from the CHILD.)

THERAPIST: What's bothering you, Tommy?

CHILD: You know what’s bothering me.

THERAPIST: I do, but I need it in your own words. Else you'll never be safe enough to leave, okay?

(The CHILD groans.)

CHILD: Fine. If you fuckin' insist.

(The CHILD sighs.)

CHILD: I was thinking ‘bout exile again.

THERAPIST: Anything in specific?

CHILD: I don't wanna-

THERAPIST: (Low.) Tommy.

CHILD: Fine, fine, okay! Prime. It’s just- y'know, I couldn't keep anything. I couldn’t keep the armour on my back, my tools. It’s still fuckin' weird that you're not taking shit from me, honestly.

(The THERAPIST writes notes onto his clipboard loudly).

THERAPIST: Did you ever consider whether you deserved to keep those items?

CHILD: What?

THERAPIST: After all, you were misbehaving. You can't get away with everything, Tommy. That's the problem with you. You think you can get away with everything, that you're the hero, but you’re not. You're just a scared little kid, aren’t you? Don't worry, once I'm done with you, you'll be all better-

(The sounds of ruffled fabric as the CHILD gets off of their bed rapidly.)

CHILD: No! No, stop fucking- fucking lying to me! You're lying, you're lying! It's you who's the cause of all my problems, you BASTARD-

(The sound of bone impacting hard obsidian and breaking plays. The CHILD wails in pain loudly.)

THERAPIST: If you're not going to listen, I can't treat you, Tommy. I'll come back tomorrow.

CHILD: Wait! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don’t go! Wait, WAIT WAIT WAIT DREAM PLEASE-

(The door slams shut. The CHILD remains sobbing for the remaining thirty minutes of the tape.)

#my writing #dream smp #dream smp writing #tw kidnapping #tw abuse #tw medical abuse #tw psychiatric abuse #tw manipulation #tw gaslighting #tw victim blaming #primeboys (derogatory)

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theminecraftbee · 6 months

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my other favorite slightly-less-stupid technoblade headcanon that i hold to dearly despite the march of fandom is that he is NOT A PIGLIN. he is a PIGMAN. there is a DIFFERENCE. this is entirely based on the fact that, like, okay he's a hypixel and pvp guy, so he basically always played 1.8. so when he got to dsmp and saw the new nether he was like. what the fuck are those. where are the zombie pigmen. those things have weird ears??? those aren't my brothers??? and combined with the fact he frequently would find out something about modern minecraft and go "what the heck when did that happen" i think he's like. one of the last of the original pigmen. the ones that became zombie pigmen before the whole piglin thing happened. he's not a zombie simply because he's built differently. he's sort of trapped in a different era. he's just chillin' though. because he's technoblade and he's built differently.

#dream smp #technoblade #listen. he's so funny to me. piggie :D #my entry into the mcyt fandom will occasionally take over my brain again GOD i need to write the bedrock bros fic #NOVEMBER.......#this combines really funny with the 'and he's also used to being an endgame mmo player' thing btw

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bizlybebo · 4 months

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it’ll be 2030 and i’ll still be opening ao3 posting dsmp fic btw. the world may forget but i won’t let it. i’ve silenced my fears of this fandom dying by simply deciding to Become the fandom if it ever gets too small. i will be dragged out of this shitty minecraft role play kicking and screaming because you Cannot stop me.

#vixen rambles #dsmp #dream smp #i habe like #8 long fics i REALLLLYYYY wanna write in 2024 #and 4 of them are part of one extensive zombie au #you literally cannot stop me #these are my ocs now #ao3 #vixen writes

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