#dsmp oneshot

[theeyoungalabastor]

Technoblade and his Apprentice: The Shattered Totem- Kill or Be Killed (Part 1)

Part 1, Part 2

(Art by: Jammie on Twitter)

Where does this take place?:  The Arctic Empire, New L'Manberg, The Greater SMP

What event takes place?: Technoblade's and (Y/n)'s execution

Character pairing: Piglin!Hybrid!Technoblade and Bear!Hybrid!Reader

Information on chatacter(s): Both hybrids have a human like form but when feeling threatened both are able to shift into a bigger more animal like form that will add onto both strength, agility, and height (height to look more intimidating)

WARNINGS: Blood, character death, descriptive but mild gore, angst, explosions, murder, manipulation, foul language, freezing,

Status: Platonic, Angst, Fluff, Familial (Technoblade sees reader as a sibling)

Pronouns: They/them

Word count: 7,306 (7K)

Page count: 21.4

​​​Summary: Having been included with the aid of destroying L'Manberg with Technoblade both the Piglin man and dear reader soon become the main target for a certain quartet. Nailing wanted posters to the wooden poles around New L'Manberg the ensemble set off with the intent of having the duo pay for their crimes. Public Execution.

        A disk spun on its needle, the haunting like melody soaking into the wallpaper that layered the drywall surrounding them. A fire cackled not far from their pawed feet, hot flames lapping away at the charred wood, it's fuel radiating just enough heat to warm the bear hybrids toes. Shadows dancing with each flicker of the orange blaze.

        E/c eyes drifted to the compass that sat heavily in the palm of their hand, it's sheen surface shining with the loadstone enchant which only became more apparent with the fire's illuminance glinting faintly off of the glass surface, it's red pinpointing north.

        Nervousness gnawed hungrily at the pit of your rather empty stomach as the thick skin of your thumb traced the letters dug into the cold iron back, careful not to damage the devices surface with your keen talons. Ever since The Blade himself handed you the device it had been clipped to your belt safely. Every so often you would spare a glance in hopes the pin would click, directing you towards your friend's new home. 

        At times you would stand timidly at the end of the dock where you last saw the other hybrid, where he told you he was going to retire from everything. 

The conflict.

The government.

The violence...

        "Y/n..." Technoblade stare at the sun that began to rise above the horizon as if it were to be his last, tired eyes tracing over the water line as the ball of flames arose giving birth to a new morning. His hair reeked of soot and gun powder from the recent events, here and there a patch of his roseate fur was littered in dark splotches from where clumps of dirt and gravel had landed during the nation's destruction done by the hands of its own founder. But the hybrid seemed to pay no mind to his tainted coat but more on the effervescent ball of flames that bathed the smoke-filled firmament in ravishing hues of orange and gold. 

        He lost the man he considered a brother. Wilbur. To his own father. Impaled through the chest by a glistening diamond sword, if Techno didn't know any better, he would have mistaken the glittering blade as the one that Tommy had gifted the winged man on their last Christmas together. 

        "Yes Techno?" Your voice was dry, hoarse even, noticeably wavering and damn near dead of all emotion, along with the dull sheen that glossed your e/c eyes. His ruby hues drifted to meet your own. Pain pooling deeply in those blood tinted orbs. Not only did The Blade lose a brother, but you had also lost something as well. 

        Your home. 

        And your friends. 

        You lost their trust the minute you turned to face the Piglin hybrid, hand held out demandingly as he had already placed two of those ebony skulls atop of the four blocks of inklike sand that wept, but their cries fell onto deaf ears as he afforded his gaze to your stony features. The third skull sat in his clammy palms, ready to slam onto the last block of soul sand; but he hesitated, looking down at your outstretched hand that itched to feel the smooth bone of the skull. Without a second glance, he placed it into the heel of your palm with a firm nod. 

        That is probably where the two made their mistakes.

        "I think I'm going to retire." His words were stern but soft as he glanced at you almost as if you were a kicked puppy cowering with its tail between its legs. Your eyes remained on the still waters that skipped across the shoreline, the sound was painful reminder of what once was. "Where will you go? Will I see you again?" 

        Technoblade knew you didn't hold what happened against him, especially knowing his unexplainable hatred towards governments, I mean shit. Look what it's done. He lost his brother for God's sake, to the unquenchable thirst for power that he had at the tip of his fingers.

        Techno shook his head, unsure. "I honestly don't know, wherever the wind takes me I guess." Digging a hand into one of his pockets the taller male ferreted around before fishing a handheld object from its depths. You watched with a quirked brow as the taller man held out a large hand, gesturing for you to take what sat in his grasp. 

        "For when things go south. Go north."        

        At first when Techno said those words, you didn't think he meant literally, but here you were, eyes glued to the red needle that pointed north. Ever since the day of Wilbur's passing you didn't intend on living in L'Manberg- or NEW L'Manberg that is- after Tubbo took the title of the shattered nations president you had turned away from that unfinished symphony. You now resided within the barrier of the Greater SMP, atop the hill of where a certain tumultuous British boy's home was dug into.

        Some people blamed you for the way things went down, Technoblade unleashing the hellish three headed beasts with the help of your traitorous hands, the TNT that tore the nation's structure, sending everything skyward. They blamed you for helping the Pigman fight against the government that drove his brother to insanity. The Government that exiled its two original founders or the same one that drove the once great leader whose eyes shown with pride's son to destroy the very walls that were made to protect him. 

        You glanced towards the dingy window another content smile splayed at your thinly lined lips.

        You remembered the time Technoblade- the man to who you looked up to with much pride- taught you how to correctly plant potatoes.

        "No, you don't plant them like that, they'll grow wonky." Pulling the vegetable from its hole, the one that you nonchalantly dug and tossed it into. You looked at the taller man that towered over you with a deadpanned expression, the six-foot something man paid no attention to your bored expression. Reaching into his pant pocket the fucia haired man ferreted for a moment. "Why? This is just a waste of fucking time they're just potatoes, nothing to get fussy or even get excited over." You spoke with the roll of your eyes and a shrug before standing beside Technoblade, dusting your soil caked fingers against your filthen and slightly tattered pants, perfect for farming.

        "Yes, they are just potatoes, but these potatoes' are what is going to fuel out battalion and keep our bodies from shutting down on themselves." Pulling a blade from his pocket the other dug its sharp edge into the middle of the vegetable and skillfully cutting it in half. Glancing at your curious figure his long tail snapped back and forth with entertainment. Just a moment ago you were groaning about how potatoes weren't much to be excited about and how planting them was a waste of time. 

        Extending his hand towards you he held the small handheld blade in his scarred clad hand. "Cut them in half, we need to ration as many as we can so there's enough for everyone." You glanced up at the older man with uncertainty glinting in your (e/c) hues, a brow quirked to add into your iffiness. 

        Chuckling softly Technoblade bounced his extended hand expectantly with a soft groan. "Are you gonna take it or not? I'm trying to do a whole bonding moment with my apprentice- and my arm is starting to ache." Now it was his turn to deadpan at your stiffened figure below him. Your round ears flickered as you jumped, fingers softly surrounded the blade, face bloomed with blushing embarrassment. Clutching the blades handle you glanced innocently up at the other, eyes glinting with questioning.

        Crouching slightly beside you Technoblade placed a large hand atop of your shoulder, a finger directed to the bottom of the knife. "Use this part the knife, it divides the meat in the potato better, but when you plant it make sure the small roots here-" He let his acute nails poked at the white spikes that protruded from the plants skin. "-Plant that part in the soil, make sure the cut part is facing the surface so that when it grows the plant's stem can break the surface better." Nodding you watched intently as he explained. 

        "Alright." Reaching into the small potato bag that hung from your hip you pulled out another potato as Technoblade turned away from you to plant the potato that he took from your hole and planted both halves in his own dug holes before scrubbing his palms against the knees of his pants as he covered the crops. 

        You held the potato gently, eyeing it with a faint smile before digging the tip into the skin.

        That was when the days were long and grueling but empty of most problems, the most you had witnessed within the walls of Pogtopia was Wilbur's constant and rabid mental decline that plummeted like a stone in water.

        Blabbering about being the villain and that if he couldn't have L'Manberg, then no one can. And with that, it was blown into the sky with the help of two shape shifting hybrids.

        You clutched the compass, pulling it to your chest. Not many ever forgave you for helping destroy the same thing that they were all fighting to protect, throwing all of their work down the drain like expensive wine. Sometimes it ate at the core of your brain, no matter how badly you wanted to apologize to the children that had to face the wrath of the man with big dark horns, or even witness the once lively leader loose his ever-living mind to the nagging voices and now a boy sent to exile by his own friend, the one who he saw as an actual brother. 

        Is this how Eret felt? When he expressed his remorse for the final control room? 

        Heaving a sigh your e/c eyes drifted out of the window as your mind settled on the boisterous blonde's home, one that use to bound pridefully down the prime path that just so coincidentally happened to lead up to his doorstep, chest puffed, and head held high. It was eerily quiet without his high-pitched laugh or passive aggressive threats. A spark of memory flashed through your mind as you recall a conversation with a certain winged man. 

        "That kid, I'm telling ya, he's given me more gray hairs than my own son." He chuckled humorously as he watched his adopted blonde son clash his skull against the firm horn of his friend. Crying out in pain before rubbing the soon to be bruised spot that blossomed due to their recklessness. Tubbo on the other hand, clutched his stomach that grew tense with laughter a few breathy taunts leaving his cavernous lips.

        He spoke about how incredibly corrupt that government was, how it tossed the presidential titles around like it were a game of Ga-ga ball, and whose ever feet the ball just so happened to hit was the new ruler of the damned nation. The blonde man spoke of how that government drove his one and only son to dementedness and now cast the other aside, doomed to bare exile with the ghastly apparition of who once was. After your departure from L'Manberg, much like Technoblade, you gifted the two a compass that led to your home located just off the prime path, a way to locate you faster when needed. 

        A content but solemn smile tugged at the edges of your lips as you began to reminisce the better times, the times you were still considered a 'good person' but you too, had shoved the goads of violence to the back of your mind. Now, you did not have the voices that sang out in demand for blood, but you did have the invasive or intrusive thoughts that would dance around your mind like a ballet dancing the nutcracker. They were tempting, urging you to wrap your large palms around the throat of anyone who stepped foot on your doorstep, watch as their lively eyes glazed over with the thin sheet of death or maybe see your clawed fingers tainted with the said crimson whine. 

        This is what war does to a person.

         No matter who they are. 

        A person could have the kindest heart and brightest eyes that one has ever seen before being tainted by the trauma of war that could make any man go berserk.

        But it's not the memories that were left behind that made these impulses bubble to the surface, it was the blood that stained your tongue during it. Once an animals tongue collides with the copper relish of blood, it lingers like honey, like a craving even. And that is exactly what it was for you, a nagging craving that had turned sour as of the recent months. You blamed the damned hybrid side of you, the rabid bear. 

        The snap of the fire awoke your dazed figure back to reality as you glanced over, eyeing the glowing ember that sat on the waxed wood of your floor, with a groan you heaved yourself to your pawed feet before padding towards where the smoldering chunk of charred lumber lay, nonchalantly kicking it back into the hot pit to smolder into ash. 

        'Get ready my dearest friend they have bound my wings, they've found you.'

        Gaze snapping to the communicator that sat atop the end table next to the hard leather cover of your recent read the screen illuminated. No one ever messaged you unless they wanted something from you, or it was an emergency. 

        Nimbly dancing around the furniture that littered your path, your large, clawed manus lifted the device to your line of sight. It was from Philza. The text a whispered message.

        >(Y/n) whispered to Ph1lzA< What do you mean 'they've found you'? Who is it?

        Panic slowly installed itself into the core of your stomach as the whisper sent, jumping around like an energetic puppy being taunted with an afternoon walk. 

        Who found you?

        What did they want?

        They bound his wings? 

        Did he mean Chat?

        Seconds felt like eons as your (e/c) hues stare daggers into the electronic device. If looks could kill, that communicator would be fine ribbons.

        >Ph1lzA whispered to you< The Buther army, they found your compasses. I don't have much longer for they are confiscating the communicator, be safe m8.

        Shit.

        The Buther Army, a battalion of men who seek vengeance on the ones who've wronged them, and it looks that you were one of the people at the top of that list.         

        Your rounded ear flicked as a stoic expression stoned your features into a thin but serious line. You needed to prepare. 

        Instantly your hands got to work, thumbing through the pages of your brewery book, collecting the needed supplies to whip up the potions you would undoubtably be needing to face multiple men alone. The house reeked of panic as your lip pulled into a focused snarl, revealing the sharp edges of your canines, jabbing the stick to your grinding bowl against the fragile blaze rod you spun the wand, crushing the rod into a fine powder to then be turned into strength potions.

        Your dark tinted armor sat on a nearby armor stand prepared and enchanted, ready for usage, in the stands hand a glistening netherite sword that shone with enchantments, in the other a bow that too sang with advanced enchants. (Technobalde had helped you find the best enchantments and how to get them).        

        A nearby stand bubbled as the brewing came to a finish to which you swiftly slid into your hotbar, storing the rest in the slots of your inventory. Minutes turned to hours as your grueling work was done.

        Fixing the strap of your armor your pawed feet slid into the metal of your boots that had been tailored by the great Puffy herself, lords bless that woman's soft soul. With the dusting of your shoulder to rid of the red stone dust, gun powder and blaze powder you were ready, body reverberating with fluctuating anxiety that gnawed at the core of your mind, clouding it with blurry cotton.

        They were bound to approach you first since you were undoubtedly closer to the reconstructing nation built off of corruption and pain and you were sure Philza had messaged Technoblade to inform him of the approaching battalion that approached your home radiating malice. 

        Fixing your sights on the carpet that sat at the foot of the rocking chair that you sat in just moments ago you eyed the fabric remembering what lied beneath. Swiftly making your way towards the said furniture you tossed the carpet aside revealing the trap door it concealed.

        A growl left your throat as the front door vibrated from the vigorous pounding as the lock held it in place.

        "(Y/n) Step out of your home and surrender your weapons." A venomous voice demanded firmly as the sound of metal on metal made it to your rounded hybrid ears, four, that's how many shadows' you'd counted from beneath the door. 

        The power behind each knock grew potent as you slipped down the hatch, the voice of Quackity being deafened by the banging door. 

        Grabbing the legs of the rocking chair you swiftly pulled it over the hatch as it rested on your head against the cold metal of your helmet. At this point the knocking was no longer but the hard thud of a boot colliding with the now splintering wood you lowered the hatch still covered with the carpet down. And with that you began climbing down just as the door was thrown against your wallpapered walls. 

        "WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!" The duck hybrids voice reeked with sour venom as he spoke, you could hear the group of boots thumping against the floorboards over your head. "WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT BEAR!" His voice seethed hatefully. 

        Your boots hit the stone of the tunnel that stretched farther than you would have liked but this here hall of cold stone is what divided you from being captured and possibly killed and freedom that shown just beyond that faintly glowing opening just a few yards away.

        "Look at this," Fundy spoke deathly close to your hatch as the sound of furniture being tossed aside like a child's toy made it to your ears a deep odious chortle radiated the bird man's throat as the hatch was thrown open. Thats when the two of you made eye contact. A snarky smirk pulled at the corners of your lips as a two fingered solute was directed to the seething Quackity clad in netherite armor. 

        enraged vociferation erupted as you slid a speed potion from your belt and popping the cork before again glancing up at the winged man who scaled swiftly down the ladder, earth brown hues that burned with a dangerous fire still locked on your form. With a playful chuckle and wink you downed the vials contents that took effect almost as soon as it made contact with your lips, legs pumping, creating distance between you. Capture. And freedom.

        The illuminated opening approached rapidly as a crazed adrenaline-filled grin spread across your features. Blood pumped loudly in your rounded bear ears. But as fast as it came it was gone as your euphoria only lasted a few moments; the familiar sound of hissing sounded faintly, even the sound of racing blood and thinning adrenaline it made your whole world slow almost to a stop. 

        As if time were being manipulated as said, it seemed to slow as you frantically tried to stop your speeding form from the now crumbling wall, the shards blooming from beside your head, the sight just out of your prefrail vision as your armored hands lifted to shield your face.

        Like the flip of a switch time returned, your door to freedom slammed shut as your fingers brushed its closing knob. So close but again, so far. Your body was flung back to skid across the stone floor, a few hot morsels slicing through the flesh of your cheek. The sound of shattering glass made you curse loudly as the contents of your potion bottles spilled against the cold floor. Your shock was momentary as you regained your composure, jumping back to your pawed feet clumsily.

        The exit was blocked by debris. 

        There was no way out.

        Ringing enveloped your erratic senses, vision blurring together.

        The exit was blocked by debris. 

        There was no way out.

        You had to fight. 

        Guess it's time to sooth your hunger, your thirst for blood. 

        Turning to face the four who stood in the narrow hall, you lifted your netherite blade in comparison to their four diamond axes that were too raised, ready to strike.        

        Quackity's chest bounced with entertainment as your form took a battle stance as he lifted his axe, directing the point towards your now bulked form obscured in tainted and matted fur as you huffed, still out of breath from running."(Y/n) (L/N), you are under arrest for the assistance of destroying L'Manberg and being associated with Technoblade. You are here by sentenced. To death..."

.

.

.

.

        "That's great. That's wonderful, but you gotta get outta here Wilbur." Technoblade stated firmly pushing a finger to his temple to sooth the raging voices that roared in his ears whilst pulling the blade from its place on his mantal. The pale skinned ghost turned to face his younger brother as stress knitted into the skin of Techno's brow. "They're gonna come, they're gonna see you- and they- I don't know what they're gonna do to you-" Technoblade turned swiftly to another brewing stand, removing the potions from their spots on his counter, "-I don't know what they're gonna do to me but- I don't think it's gonna be good." Fixing the round vials to his belt, Technoblade lifted the shawl from its hook before swinging it around his shoulders, locking the chain that held it in place. 

        Ghostbur held his fist to his chest anxiously as he hovered over the wooden floor of his piglin brother's cabin. Technoblade turned to face the transparent male with a sigh, placing a hand on his shoulder before opening the door. "Alright, there are some bad men Wilbur that are coming to get me-" The pink haired male's words halted in his throat as the said ghost exited close behind the taller male. Swiftly making his way towards the spruce fencing that lined the staircase Ghostbur leaned over with wide oxy eyes. With a gasp the man pointed a directed finger to the open field of snow. "Techno look..." Scarlet hues following the older of the two's finger to the open tundra the piglin froze with furrowed brows. "It's a sign!" Wilbur turned back to his younger brother excitement swirling in his glossy black orbs. "Blue!"

        "Ghostbur, I need you to take that sheep." Using the tip of his sword to point tot he said animal he looked the ghost of Wilbur Soot in the eyes before speaking again. "And get as far away from here as possible." 

        Ghostbur's features shifted happily as he excitedly heeded the others warning. "Can I have a leash?" The man questioned innocently rubbing the knitted cuffs of his yellow sweater anxiously. He did NOT like the way the pinkette was acting. The said male rushed back into the house as Ghostbur sat atop of the plywood that connected the fencing rails.

        "Yeah, I can go far away," glancing back towards the taller male he watched as Technoblade's large pink ears flicked prudently. "Would it be easier for you if I went far away?" 

        "Uhh, I just want you to be safe Ghostbur!" Technoblade replied as he lifted the top to another chest, ferreting frantically through it before jumping to another letting the lids fall closed with a loud thud.

        "I'm always safe Technoblade, I'm already dead." The ghost floated towards his twin who hastily shoved the lead into his transparent hands, "what are they gonna do? Double kill me?" The brunette chuckled humorously at his own joke but stopped as he saw the glint of desperation in the other man's crimson hues.

        "Ghostbur, it's stopped snowing- go as far away as you can or go and hide over a hill or something, alright?" Leading the ghost out of the door he raked a clammy palm through his infrared locks as the said other contently bound from the lifted porch, lead in hand as he approached the animal, latching it to the lead and softly tugging it towards a nearby hill cameoed in thick pine. "Bye bye Techno, have fun preparing for the event!"

        Returning back to sporadically searching through the many chests that lined the walls he retrieved what he saw fit for battle, the paranoia that devoured his mind making things all the lot harder.

        Were they only going after him?

        What if they hurt Ghostbur?

        Was Phil okay?

        Were you okay?

        It had been a good long while since the God of Blood had fought another, it had been too long since his hands knew the form of his hands wrapped around the hilt of a sword tainted with blood. Maybe if things weren't as he seemed it wouldn't come to that, maybe he could negotiate with the ensemble to prevent spilling blood. He was a retired man, he sworn against violence a long time ago and sought refuge within the snowy tundra to live out his retirement.

        Chatter awoke the man from his thoughts as a pink bore ear flicked towards the source, crouching low the man clad in red and netherite tip toed his way towards the window where the voices seemed to grow louder. Using his index finger to lift the cloth of his drapes Technoblade peered through the thick sheets of glass softly blanketed with frost and fog. 

        Swiping a hand across the glass he peeked into the night where he saw Ghostbur chatting contently with the netherite wearing men. "He got captured IMIDIATELY, I've never seen a man get captured to quick holy Hell." The said ghost glanced towards the cottage every so often he gave a polite wave before pointing excitedly towards the windows. 

        "Shit, no, no don't wave at me- NO, DON'T POINT AT ME! DID HE JUST TURN AND POINT AT ME!" Pinching the bridge of his nose Technoblade groaned out in despair before sighing heavily before again peeking out the window, a bead of sweat dripping down his chin.        

        "Oh crap, they have full enchanted netherite- I thought they were broke-" The man chuckled to himself before lifting the curtain a bit higher to see what was happening despite not being able to hear the conversation. Almost instantly Ghostbur's face brightened impossibly bigger as he frantically waved at the man in the window. 

        Dropping the curtain, the man pressed the heels of his palm into his eyes with a groan of complaint. Standing from his crouched position he pulled the curtain all the way open only to cry out in complaint as Ghostbur ran enthusiastically towards the cottage.

        "HEY TECHNOBLADE! They say they're gonna kill you Technoblade-" Opening the wooden doors Ghostbur invited himself in approaching the nether beast.

        Technoblade lurched forwards to catch the door handle as Ghostbur again made his way outside, "Ghostbur- why- why are you leading them over to my house Wilbur- why are you doing this?" Ignoring his brother's words of betrayal Ghostbur turned to face the others scarred face. "What would you like me to say back to them?" Glancing towards the hill that the group of now four stood Technoblade eyed them wearily.

        "Uh, how about you look at them and tell them that I'm not here."

Ghostbur's brows furrowed tightly. "But that'd be lying, I don't like lying!"         

        "We- THEY'RE GOING TO KILL ME WHY ARE YOU NOT OKAY WITH LYING!? Aaand they're all here- and their all right outside my house- Thanks Ghostbur" standing on the flight of stairs Technoblade puffed out his chest as he clutched the hilt of his sword closer unsure to use it or not.        

        "Oh, Hello again Technoblade." Quackity's lips pulled into a wicked grin as Tubbo fixed the handle of his hatchet in his hand.

        "Uh, hello guy's, why have you guys come all the way over here- to my humble abode?" The said man descended the stairs where he stood a few moments ago as he eyed the Four before him. Quackity, Fundy, Ranboo and Tubbo. Where was the third? 

        Tubbo stepped forwards with a slight tremble in his stance as he spoke with a wavering voice. "Technoblade." He inhaled. "You need to pay for your war crimes." 

        "Woah, woah, woah, that was in the past man, alright? That was a different Technoblade. I'm a changed man now! I'm in retirement, I'm a good person now Tubbo." Here he went, negotiation, maybe he would be able to change their minds with assurance.

        Quackity hummed in denial whilst shaking his head, nose scrunching with malice as he lifted his axe to point at the man who stood before him the sheen of antipathy grew thicker with each passing second. "Techno, you and (Y/n) exploded L'Manberg with fucking-"

        "You two literally spawned withers EVERYWHERE!" Tubbo cut in, placing a firm hand to the ravenette's shoulder. 

        Shrugging the brunette's hand away the duck hybrid stepped forwards slightly, mock understanding lacing his already ill toned voice. "I'm sorry Technoblade, but you two need to be brought to justice for that. And there is nothing I can do to change that" The male shrugged boldly, spinning the blade of his axe in his hand.

        "Okay- Listen you guys, I've gone through so much effort over the past months to change my violent ways, I have reformed alright?" Lifting an empty hand to his head an index finger jabbed into the flesh of his temple as he spoke again. "The VOICES demand blood, and I- I have been denying THEM! I've been fighting back! PLEASE, please don't make kill all of you." Letting his hand drop the other that held the hilt of his sword directed to the four who stood before him before backing away a step. "Please just leave."

        A tenseful silence fell upon the men before one spoke again. "Technoblade, please just come peacefully..."

        Quackity lifted a hand to silence the president of the broken nation as he nodded firmly with a nonchalant shrug, "you know what, yeah, how about you show us around? Show us what you've been doing while in retirement. Let's do this peacefully."

        Technoblade tensed at the raven-haired man's tone as he side stepped away from the four, swiftly approaching the far side of his house hesitantly sliding the sword into its spot on his hip. "I- huh- Well I have Bees' here, aren't they nice?" 

        Tubbo's eyes lit up slightly now with relaxed shoulders at the mention of his favorite mob, approaching the small makeshift bee farm he placed a hand against the glass as one shimmied its chunky body from the hole of its hive to nuzzle into the flowers that lined the wall. At the sight of this the four others openly approached the bee farm. 

        With a few wary backpedal steps, the pig hybrid turned on the ball of his heel, sweat gathering at the hair of his brow as he began to run from the distracted battalion of four.

        After a few moments and a few feet away shouts of panic instilled as multiple footsteps followed behind the taller male who then skidded to a stop, hands raised in mocking surrender. "Hey, hey, hey, it was just a joke-"

        "You know what, fuck it Techno, we tried to do this civilly, but we won't let you out of here in one fucking peice, we are going to fuck you up techno. It's either going to be the easy way or the hard way. We're going to go back to L'Manberg and you're going to come with us. There's no other way around it." Quackity spun his axe skillfully as he took a battle stance.

        Technoblade's brows knit together tightly as the voices began to chant.

        Blood for the Blood God.

        Blood for the Blood God!        

        BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!

        His top lip pulled into a snarl revealing the sharpening canines, his figure seeming to take on new heights as patches of fur bloomed across his skin, the armor that sat loose across his stature grew tight as he revealed his full glory. 

        It was time to sooth their hunger.

        With a huff from his snout and the snap of his jaw's he growled. "If that's how it is... I CHOOSE BLOOD!" Ripping the leather belt from his waist he slammed it down, the glass splash vials that lined it shattered coating the beast in its contents as his muscles bulked, eyes grew dilated with speed and the screaming voices, followed with his body ached with regeneration. Technoblade ripped the sword from its sheath as he sprung, blade raised high with the intent to kill.

        The sharpened edge dug into the handle of Quackity's axe before unloding it from the wood and hacking down again as the said bird hybrid spun away, avoiding the deadly strike.

        Panicked shouting ensued as the group of four scattered, slipping against the sheet of snow.

        Turning his attention towards a certain fox featured boy Technoblade dug the hooves of his feet into the frozen forest floor, launching himself forwards delivering an armor crumbling blow. Clutching his now aching ribs Fundy scrambled to escape the beast's power whilst crying out about how God damned heavy, he hit even with the performance enhancing potions.

        Sliding just a few feet away was Tubbo, axe at the ready as he charged the pink coated beast that snarled, clouds of hot smoke bellowing from his nostrils as he too charged, scarlet hues glazed with the intent to annihilate to cut down each and every single one of the men who dared disturb his retirement and force him back into the ways of violence, forcing him to collapse under the pressure of the voices to sustain their unquenchable thirst.

        Fear replaced the once confident look that crossed his face as the boy turned to run, netherite boots sliding against the frozen ground. A cry of panic escaped the ball in his throat.

        "BIG Q DO SOMETHING, BIG Q!" The hook in his boot caught the root of a tree, sending the president tumbling to the forest floor, diamond axe raised as Technoblade's sword collided with the base of the smaller blade, applying pleasure to the hilt of his sword the Piglin beast snarled as Tubbo's arms trembled under the unbearable weight as his emerald hues met with the dilated pair that danced with pain. 

        Strings of curses fell from Quackity's lips as he glanced about, looking for something to use for leverage, knowing full well he could use his gift but that was needed for more drastic measures.

        The blade of the hybrid's sword dug into the flesh of Tubbo's shoulder as he cried out, struggling to push the massive creature away from him in order to escape, but it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, his attempts always went down in vain.

        The familiar sound of hooves awoke The Blade from his stoper, snapping his head to the sound he saw Quackity perched on the back of a rearing Carl who whinnied in displeasure before shaking his head in a final attempt to rid of his new rider.

        Panicked, Technoblade tore his blade from the other's before turning to face the ravenette.

        "WOAH, WOAH, WOAH, WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT HORSE QUACKITY!?"

        "Technoblade, stop what you're doing, stop right now-"

        "Woah, woah, woah, woah, stop what you're doing. Get away from that horse Quackity." Lifting the blood tainted sword, the oversized beast directed it to the man who stirred the reigns of his stallion with a grin, satisfied that he finally found a weakness in the Legendary Technoblade. 

        "No." Quackity stated with a slight jerk of the reigns that willed the horse into a standing still as he held the handle of his axe to the horse's beige fur. "You get away from them Technoblade. If you pull any shit, I am going to kill Carl. I will fucking slay him if you don't get away from them." 

        The piglin beast's breathing stuttered as he widely stepped away from the two other hybrids.

        "Technoblade, I am going to kill your horse-"

        "-Why would you do that?"

        "Unless you cooperate." 

        Technoblade's eyes narrowed as he hesitantly stepped away from the raven-haired man who sat atop his noble steed. "What do you want from me?"

        "I want you to drop your shit, drop your shit Techno and Carl doesn't get hurt."

        With that being said the beast formed man threw his axe into the snow. 

        "All of it, this is not a negotiation. Drop it all"

        Technoblade glanced down at the blood slicked blade that sat light in his large palm before he huffed in what seemed to be amusement. "I can get a new horse if I need too. It doesn't matter." (I know he wouldn't really say this, but for plot's sake, he is.)

        Quackity looked slightly taken aback at the statement as the war criminal before him readjusted his grip on the swords hilt. With a stunned huff followed by demented and amused laughter the man on the horse shook his head with a nod. 

        "For some reason, I knew you'd say that. So that's why I brought you a gift, Technoblade." Digging the heel of his boots into the horse's ribs Quackity approached a small thicker part of the forest where he stopped and turned to face the oversized hybrid.

        Lifting a hand, the beanie wearing man spoke with wallowing pride as the gift was shoved from behind the thicket, the sound of chains rattling filled the tense thick air. "May I present to you-" Watching as it landed limply in the snow, Quackity slid from the horses back before hopping towards the thing like a child who was told they could have whatever they wished at the candy store. 

        Skidding to a stop, Quackity planted both feet on either side of the figure before gripped a fist full of hair, tugging the figures blooded face up from the soiled snow to reveal who it was. 

        "YOUR ONE AND ONLY APPRENTICE, TADA!!" He sang in excitement that he was finally able to reveal his plan B. 

        (Y/N) grunted painfully as Technoblade's breath caught in his throat. 

        Their (h/l) (H/c) locks were matted with dark and now frozen blood that had dripped down the crown of their head before drying, their nose busted and bloodied as clots of blood plugged each nostril, both lips that were now blue from the cold were split so deep that he was sure he could see the younger one's gums that were too painted crimson from their harsh faceplant into the icy ground as shallow and stuttering breaths wheezed past your swollen. The once nice thin clothes that they wore were torn and tattered, tainted with their own crimson whine, you had not been dressed to embark on a trip to the frigid tundra. Your hands were bound behind your back by a pair of copper cuffs.  (Copper is what keeps shape shifting hybrids from shifting into their animal form)

        But what made his blood turn cold was how deathly pale you were. From what he could see you lost quite a bit of blood while on your way over but the bruises and deep cuts that littered your figure did not make you look any better in any way shape and or form.

        Quackity held the handle of his axe with bubbling excitement as he glared challengingly at the shifted man. "Drop your shit Technoblade..."

        Technoblade was frozen where he stood, eyes glued to your weakened form. You looked to broken, your (e/c) hues that once glistened with courage and power now sat dull and defenseless, he could have sworn that he saw guilt swirl in those dull eyes of yours.

        Gripping the tufts of hair in his hand tighter Quackity lowered the sharpened edge of his diamond axe to rest tightly at the ball of your throat.

        "Or I will kill this kid, right in front of you."

        "Don't..." Your voice came out hoarse, tone just above a whisper, but he was still able to catch it. "You still have time to r-run." 

        Tearing his gaze from your shivering form, Technoblade dropped his sword.

        His potions.

        His crossbow.

        Trident.

        Golden apples. 

        All of it, before finally unlatching the hold-knob of his cloak and tossing it to the side and finally letting the glistening crown that sat atop his head clatter to the forest floor alongside his netherite armor. 

        His hands raised in surrender. 

        Quackity's brown eyes burned with victory as he removed the weapon from your throat, both of his feet from either side of you were no longer there, letting your head again fall into the snow you were then hoisted up from under your shoulder. Whimpering painfully, you unwillingly leaned against the ravenette for support as he danced giddily before his energetic facade dropped to look Technoblade dead in his rage filled eyes. 

        "So here is what's going to happen Technoblade, (Y/N). We are going to take you both back to L'Manberg to face trial. Alright?" His voice seethed as the other person he was supporting weakly lifted their head. 

        "Sounds like... Bull shit..."

        Tubbo stood, lips pulled into a thin line. "They just insulted our government..."        

        Technoblade snapped his head to face the ram. "Oh, we just insulted your, oh your government has been insulted. OHHH!"

I had to put a few of Technoblade's funny moments because I am missing the hell out of that man.

Edited and not proofread

Masterlist

#techno #dsmp techno #ctechno #ctechnoblade #dsmp #dsmp x reader #dsmp x you #dsmp x y/n #dsmp fanfic #oneshot #dsmp oneshot #part 1 #technoblade x reader #technoblade #technoblr #philza minecraft #minecraft #minecraft youtubers #platonic #sbi fanfic #ph1lza #emerald duo #sleepy bois inc #bedrock bros #sbi 115 #non bianry #nonbinary reader #they them #x reader

[angstyx]

ayup

i was watching the clip of tommy calling wilbur wilby so i had an idea

can I request wilbur x platonic!teen!reader in which reader accidentally calls wilbur wilby on stream?

Wilby

CC!Wilbur Soot x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 240+ words

Summary: You accidentally call Wilbur the wrong name and it causes chaos

TW: cursing, shouting

Requested?: [Yes] [No]

Note: um well im back 💀 after like idk months of not posting here's a new piece of writing

lol tell me if my writing got worse or not

Masterlist // Rules for Requesting

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

"Hey, Wilby? Can you-" You immediately realize your mistake and unfortunately WIlbur heard it before you could correct yourself. "Did you just call me Wilby?" You freeze as you quickly laugh to cover your slip up. "What no- I don't know what you're talking about, WIlbur-" "You just called me wilby I heard it. Chat you heard it as well right?"

You groan in despair as you see chat agreeing with him, seeing yes's flood the chat. A donation soon pops up and you can't help but laugh when you read it.

❝[username] donated $10: someone clip that❞

❝[username] donated 500 bits: yesss❞

"NO CHAT DON'T PLEASE MY STREAMING CAREER WILL BE RUINED."

❝[username] donated $5: y/n i'm praying that you don't wake up tomorrow with people sending you clips of you saying wilby❞

"You're jinxing it!" You say in disbelief, making Wilbur laugh. "Wilbur, I didn't call you that at all, I swear." "You're lying, I literally heard it, and chat heard it too. I bet there are multiple clips of it right now."

That probably was true but you decided not to think about that. "Wow thanks for telling me that. Speaking of clips, I bet I'm going to see it all over my twitter home page the second i open the app."

"OH SO YOU DO ADMIT THAT YOU DID SAY IT." "Wilbur literally shup the fuck up right now or I'll block you on all my socials."

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taglist: @toodeepintofandoms @luluwinchester @thenotsohottopic @0-0littlem0-0 @bi-narystars @707xn @sakurapartridge @ryxjxnnx @boiciph3r @nightwalkercrescent @missusstark @multifandomgirl-us @sophia902103 @sunniewrites @marrymetheonott @voidgonemissing @ttakinou @chaoticotaku @joyfullymulti @aphroditesgarden @sxltedcxramel @flxffyclvuds @blushingduckling @blueberrystigma @youngstarfishdinosaur @beepbopbee @sirsleeps @dazedgxth @wrenqueenisboss @saturnhas82moons @itsonlydana @bluvclouds @comonlokbut2 @dukina @arcanine-doves @lacunaanonymoused @pixviepiee @buckyswhxre @jadecameron69420 @isaac-foster-my-beloved @sarahwasfound @auralol

Send in a ask or dm me to be added! | bolded means you either changed your url or your settings makes it so I cant tag you

#angsty writes #dsmp #mcyt x reader #mcyt #dsmp x reader #dream smp #dsmp fandom #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine #mcyt oneshots #mcyt fandom #dreamsmp #dsmp fanfic #dsmp imagine #dsmp oneshot #mcyt x you #dream smp x reader #wilbur dsmp #wilbur soot oneshot #wilbur oneshot #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur fanfiction #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur imagine #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot #dream smp fanfiction #mcyt x platonic reader #mcyt fic

[ficwriterwastakenalt]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a platonic C!Technoblade x male reader? Like maybe the reader is a mentor to him.one day the voices are really bad and whilst they are training techno hurts the reader really bad. Philza was watching and went to help the reader after techno ran away. He kinda isolates himself for awhile. Then like a week or so later the reader hunts him down to say it was alright or something. Angst to fluff- sorry for such a long request ^ ^”””

:D AHHHHHHHH I LOVE YOU the request wasnt long at all it actually helps if i get longer request! Tw: Violence

Mentor

"Deep Breath Techno, connect with the dirt, connect with the grass, the air, and yourself," Yn murmured as he inhaled the chilly air. When Techno didn't respond, Yn opened his e/c eyes and peered over. Technoblade was standing there with his back to him, and Yn could tell that he was tense. "You won't get any better at controlling them if you don't at least try," Yn added as he stepped towards the piglin hybrid.

"Techno?" Yn asked as he put his hand on Techno's shoulder. As he pushed around Techno's bulkier form, Yn's eyes narrowed. Techno's eyes were tightly shut, and his hands were curled into balls as if he were suffering from a headache.

Techno's red eyes stared deeply into Yn's e/c ones as Yn reached out to touch his face, but his wrist was quickly caught, causing Yn to stumble back slightly. "Techno, please let go," Yn yelled. Techno then pushed Yn to the ground and jumped onto him, raising his hand and slashing Yn across the face.

"Techno Mate!"  Phil yelled in the background. Yn felt their head beginning to feel dizzy and saw that everything around them was spinning. All Yn could hear as Technoblade's weight suddenly vanished was Phil's shouting in the distance and Techno's foot pounding on the ground. When Yn turned his head, he saw the piglin running from him.

---- im so sorry i couldn’t finish this but i’ve been so busy and un motivated with everything i’ll try my best to pick this back up and finish it in the future

#techno x male reader #technoblade x reader #techno #techno x reader #technoblade #dsmp fanfic #dsmp oneshot #dsmp #mcyt angst #mcyt fluff #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt #dsmp angst #dsmp fluff

[bee--blossom]

Helloo! I was wondering if u could write a revivebur x gn!reader where he says goodbye to them before leaving for utah? Mostly fluff but with a little angst or whatever u think will work best if u choose to write this ^-^ no pressure!

howdy !! i am shamefully early to this because, admittedly, i was so excited i got a request lol. thank you sm for the prompt and i hope i did well by it ! xx

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He wasn’t going to change his mind. He had already told you weeks ago of his plan… he could hide it from everyone else, but he could never hide it from you. You had observed him at his desk, writing letters upon letters to different people from his past by candlelight each night. When you finally asked what he was up to, he just couldn’t bring himself to lie. He was going back home.

You didn’t even know he came from the states… I mean, for starters, he’s british. But he never mentioned Utah, or what it was like growing up there, so you figured he’d just always lived on the SMP. When he told you he was going back, you did everything expected of the situation: begged, pleaded, sobbed… It just wasn’t fair. His life was always a bit of a mess, sure, but it just wasn’t right that he decided now of all times to leave it behind. To leave you behind.

Yet there was no changing it. You accepted it, begrudgingly or not, because there was no use trying to talk the man out of it- he was always a stubborn prick. You decided it would be best at this point to treasure the time you had left together, and to silently hope and pray he’d come back for you one day. 

It was the night before he departed, and no matter how tightly he held you, you already felt him slipping away. You hadn’t stopped crying, just holding tightly to his yellow knitted jumper like you could stick to him with your tears and force him to stay stuck to you forever. You couldn’t even call it crying at this point, the tears were just flowing out silently. He just held you back, lightly rubbing your back in circles. You don’t know how long you stayed like that- it could’ve been hours- before he pulled back. Your face was a mess- puffy, wet and tinted pink. He smiled warmly down at you and sat up from the couch you were lying on, climbing over you and walking over to your record player. It was a suitcase style leather player you had brought with you when you first arrived, and over the past few years you had been collecting discs to play on it. He pulled out one of the said discs and laid it down on the turntable, turning the machine on and moving the needle to the first grooves.

“Care for a dance, darling?” He offered his hand out to you as you slowly pulled yourself off the couch.

“I look awful.” You said, catching your own reflection in a mirror mounted on the wall. 

He stood over you and wiped your face before kissing your forehead, causing heat to gather in your cheeks. 

“Nonsense. You’re as charming as the first time I laid eyes on you.”

“That’s really corny.” You mumbled with a small smile, throwing your arms over his shoulders. It was a bit of a reach, but you managed. He put his hands on your waist, and the two of you swayed together. Gentle piano music filled the room, enveloping you both with sweet, small sounds. Soft amber glows from hovering lanterns lit the room gently above you, your shared cabin exuding comfort. You wish you could bottle his smell at the moment- some mix between a tobacco cologne and the scent of a freshly blown out candle. It was strange, but so unique to him. Just one more thing to miss.

You sighed, and he pulled you in closer by the hip, once again embracing you. 

“I love you.” He whispered down to your ear.

“I love you, too.” Your voice became weak and muffled from his closeness.

He pulled back and went down for a kiss, before you interrupted him.

“I’ve decided I won’t miss you, actually.” You said, looking up to him with a faint smile.

“Oh?” He cocked his brow, but smiled back to you. 

“Yep. I’ll be fine.” You said, swaying around on your heels.

“Oh. Then, I’ll be fine too.” He shrugged.

“You won’t be fine. You’ll be bored to death. What even is there to do in Utah? Go to 7/11? Join mormonism?” You said, voice gaining more strength.

“Oh yeah. Maybe work at Subway, who knows. A real land of opportunities.” He assured, grinning.

You both laughed a bit, dancing the whole time. When the record ended and you both were done cracking jokes about how shitty your homes were, you headed to bed. You held him tightly under the woolen blankets, the lightness of the night helping you forget the day ahead. He occasionally would bend down to kiss or caress you, eyes heavy with exhaust and content. You breathed him in and remained in his warmth all the way to sleep. When you woke, golden sunlight just breaking beyond your sheer curtains, he was gone.

You found one of his yellow sweaters at the foot of the bed, along with a note on top of it. It was short and sweet, but said everything you needed to hear. He loved you dearly, and one day- one day relatively soon- he’d be back for you. You slipped on his sweater over your sleep shirt, wrapping your arms around yourself and squeezing tight. You could still smell his cologne on it. You smiled, tucked the note into your bedside drawer, and got ready for one of many days awaiting his return.

#Revivebur x Reader #dsmp x reader #c!wilbur x reader #im trying to take the utah arc seriously but its really hard #hurt comfort #dsmp oneshot #mcyt x reader #dsmp x you

[leefallengay]

if I were you, I'd be throwing up

TW: depictions of gender dysphoria

TLDR: Quackity has a rough day at work.

(title from "If I were you, I'd be throwing up" by crywank)

It had been a long day.

An extremely long one.

Quackity had been at work since 5 A.M., and was exhausted. All morning he had been called “ma’am”, “miss”, and “young lady.” All he wanted was to rip off his binder, take a scalding hot shower, put on one of his boyfriends shirts, and crawl back into bed with them.

He sauntered through the dimly lit halls, closing himself into the bathroom. He quietly flicked on the light, removing his clothing as he made his way over to the shower. 

He did his absolute best to stay focused, to not indulge. But the flash of color in the mirror to his left caught his attention.

He glanced over, eyeing over his figure, He was slim, but still had meat on his bones. He had prominent collar bones and wide shoulders. But what really caught his eyes were the mounds of fat hung off his chest. His wide hips, the thin waist, the rounded shape of his face, his almost too long hair that he’d been too lazy to cut. The way his groin was completely flat, the way his thighs were far too big, the way stretch marks adorned the inner sides of them. All of it was not what he wanted it to be. 

Too feminine. Too womanly.

Don’t even get him started on his voice or mannerisms.

It’s no wonder he got misgendered at work all the time. He’d think that same thing if he didn’t already know himself.

He tore his eyes away from the offensive imagery, option to look back at the shower. He bit his lip harshly at the thought of having to continue being without his clothes for the next while. The thought of his body just being out there made him sick.

Begrudgingly, he climbed into the shower anyway. He didn’t take his time. He scrubbed rough and ruthlessly, rinsing off with water that was too hot to be good for his delicate skin. He ripped through his routine with haste, climbing out and drying off as quickly as his stiff and tired body would allow.

As he looked around, he realized he hadn’t thought to bring any clothes into the bathroom with him. Which means he’d have to walk out in just his towel.

The thought made his eyes water, his face scrunch, and his shoulders close in on him.

He took a deep, steadying breathe, and decided that he just needed to get this the fuck over with.

He whipped open the bathroom door with as much speed and stealth as he could muster, before stalking over to the shared bedroom where he was sure his boyfriends were sleeping. He paused in front of the door, looking down to make sure that the towel covered his entire body. He had it wrapped around himself almost like a blanket, covering all the areas he deems unworthy of being seen or perceived.

With one final once over, he slowly and cautiously inched the door open, tiptoeing over to their large closet, He grabbed down a black t-shirt with some emo band on it that Sapnap would rave about every once in a while, and a pair of boxers that comfortably hugged his frame, but not too tight to be overbearing. He also grabbed his back up binder- the one he saved for really dysphoric days.

After he’d grabbed what he backed out of the small room, and gently closed the door. He scurried back to the bathroom to reassemble himself, not even sparing a glance at his boyfriends. 

He hurriedly pulled on his binder, throwing on the shirt over it. He relished in the way his chest flattened out, in the familiar pressure that provided him endless amounts of euphoria.

What he didn’t like though, was the aching, stabbing pain that accompanied it. But this was what he had to do if he wanted to be a real man, if he wanted to be seen as what he wished he was.

He trudged back over to the bedroom, carefully surveying the scene in front of him.

It was only around 11 A.M., so his boys were still fast asleep. They were curled up around each other, Sapnap’s mouth was open slightly, small huffs of air being pulled in and out of it. Karl’s eyes were barely open, peeking over at the ravenette with a small smile.

“Hey pretty boy. Want to join us?” Karl whispered sleepily, moving over to the side a bit to make room for him in between himself and Sap.

Quackity smiled, his heart fluttering with adoration. 

He climbed his way in between the two, and despite his best efforts to move slowly, Subpoena still stirred. “Mmmh? Q, that you?” He grumbled, his tired eyes fluttering for a second before resting on his lover’s. “Hi sweetheart. How’s work?”

Quackity smiled at him, laying down and pulling the two closer to him. “It was work,” he mumbled. “Nothing new, haha.”

Karl leaned over Quackity, looking at him thoughtfully.

“What’s wrong, bub?” He whispered, cupping his face gently.

Quackity stared up at Karl, blinking at him warily. 

“What do you mean? I’m fine.” He stated matter of factly, glancing over at Sapnap for some backup. But he only stared back with the same knowing look Karl was giving him.

Quackity looked back at the brunette above him, feeling as his hand trailed down his face, touching his neck, before brushing just under the collar of his shirt. He knew that Karl had felt his binder. He knew that they noticed it. He knew that they probably would before he even had the chance to settle in.

He instinctively recoiled, blinking his eyes rapidly to clear his blotchy vision. Karl’s stare softened, and both his hands came back to hold his face. His thumbs rubbed across his cheekbones, the feeling of wetness being smeared surprising him. He hadn’t even realized he’d started crying.

“Q, it’s okay to tell us when you’re having a bad day.” Karl whispered lovingly, his thumbs still running gently across his face.

Sapnap came into his view, “Yeah, we want to be here babe. All you have to do is say the word and we’ll do it, you know that.” He whispered, his tone filled with concern.

At that, Quackity let out a whimper, his eyes clenching close as he hunched in on himself again.

“But I’m fine! Literally nothing even happened today-”

Karl abruptly cut him off, his eyebrows furrowing. “Hun, if that were true, you would be wearing this,” he looked down at his chest emphatically, hinting at his way too tight binder. 

“And you know that it isn’t healthy, especially after you worked a six hour shift with it on.” Sapnap piped up, running a hand through his hair gently. 

Quackity looked between the two, at a loss for words. He was scared and tired and in pain. He didn’t know what to do.

Sapnap sighed, sitting up from where he was originally laying. “How about this; we take off the binder, and then you can be in the middle while me and Karl sandwich you. We can even kiss a little,” he winked.

Quackity gave a small smile in response, nodding his head.

“Good. Now come here sugar.” Karl gave a wide grin, yanking Quackity into his arms. He leaned over, beginning to plant copious amounts of kisses all over his face.

Sapnap joined in, kissing on his neck and shoulders. He then lightly shoved Karl off the giggling boy, aiding him in taking his shirt off.

“Is this okay, handsome?” Sapnap purred playfully, tracing his fingers along the edge of his binder.

Quackity glanced between the two, drawing his lip in between his teeth. “But, then I won’t look like a boy anymore.”

“Oh bub, is that’s what’s bothering you?” Sapnap said sympathetically. “You could have just said that, you dork.” He smiled, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Yeah, pretty boy. How could we ever see you as anything else? I mean, look at your big, masculine shoulders! Your strong jaw, your manly eyes, the way your mullet makes you look so boyish.” Karl giggled, running his hands all over him to emphasize his point.

“We could never see you as anything less. You’re our boy. Our sweet, manly, goofy boyfriend.” Sapnap leaned in and gently kissed him on his lips. Karl leaned in to plant more kisses along his jawline.

“Really? Because I sound so girly and my hips and waist scream ‘woman’ and everyone who doesn’t know me just thinks I’m a girl and-”

Karl cut him off with another kiss to his lips, effectively silencing him. “Shh, love. Those are people who don’t matter. What matters is how you see yourself, and those you care about see you. Don’t worry about some stranger you’ll never see again.” He smiled, running a soothing hand through his hair once again.

“I… I guess you’re right. But just go slow, okay?” He whispered, nervousness seeping through him.

Sapnap nodded, carefully tucking his fingers under the band around his ribs. He gave it a gentle tug, while Karl guided his arms up. He pulled the tight fabric up from around his torso, over his arms and shoulders, before tossing it onto the floor. He grinned at Quackity.

They absolutely loved how Q looked. Loved his curves, the marks, the way he got anxious at the idea of being vulnerable but trusted them with these kinds of things anyway. 

Sapnap leaned down, trailing kisses over his collar bone. “Is this okay, duckling?” he whispered, getting a curt nod in response. He trailed his kisses down, showering his supposedly ‘unworthy; and ‘feminine’ body with adoration and affection. Karl followed suite, continuing his kissing on Quackity’s face.

“We love you, pretty boy” Karl mumbled in between kisses. “So much.”

“So,” kiss, “so,” kiss, “very,” kiss, “much.” Sapnap let out a hearty laugh, curling himself into the boy comfortingly. 

“I love you guys, too.” Quackity beamed, eyes falling shut in contentment.

#dsmp #dsmp oneshot #karlnapity #karl jacobs #sapnap #quackity #quackity is trans #karl and sapnap are supportive #cross posted on ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 #the boyfriends comfort him #they are so sweet #hurt/comfort #mostly comfort though #trans man #transgender #lgbt #they are gay your honor #they are in love your honor #go read this on ao3 #THIS IS THE CHARACTERS NOT THE CC'S!!!

[vibenvend]

GOD OF CHAOS

Seemingly crafter by God's, marble columns and walls surrounded the area on top of a mountain. However beautiful the place might have looked from the outside, or how beautiful mortals imagined the inside to be, it was made with the intent of not being viewed by fragile eyes. It's beauty was deemed to be too powerful to be grasped, so the builders, the only people who got a glimpse of its beaty, bolted the doors and promised that no mortal could enter.

Layed in white, decorated with gold, the marble palice stood proud between the bushes and trees that were homes to insects and animals alike. Some mortals chose to come here ever so often either to pray for their loved ones, their luck in life, or to atempt the impossible and break into the sanctuary. No one had ever seceded. Decades, eons had passed yet the palice of God's stood proud, ever covered by an imperfection, seemingly unable to.

Sometimes, mortals talked about even animals visiting the palice. They spoke about stags and wolfs alike, finding piece under the massive builds wings. They would bow, they would feed and sleep by the doorstep of the palice and they may have been just rumors, but the message was clear - the palice would stand proud as a reminder of how powerful God's could really be.

Yet despite this, between the white colems, stood a person. She was not a mortal yet she refused to be called a God. The actions she took resulted in this - an eternal life of hearing people out and blessing their days. She had resented God's in her lifetime, saying that what they did was unjust for a mortal, yet here she was - incapable of death, pushed into a state of lonelyness, despite being surrounded by beings with power that could rivel only her own.

Despite the palice being called a place of prayer and hope, the woman could not feel hopeful with her destiny seen more as a punishment rather than anything, but maybe the stories were true. Maybe wolfs raised their young and stags bowed their antlers for a reason, because a young man had aproached the palice soon after the young God had set a foot on the untouched floor.

The man seemed tired, carrying a single dead crow as an offering his hands. He could not recall a reason for his choice, but maybe he didn't need one. Maybe the instinct was a relic of a past life.

Seing the young man, the God couldn't help but to smile. He had not changed a bit from the last time she had seen him. His hair as pink as the sinset, ears poking out of the messy locks and eyes as red as the blood she used to be stained in. Eyes she could never forget.

She wondered how he had passed. She wondered of all the adventures the partook in on his past life. She hoped that the man had fun and deep down missed her. However, the answer seemed quite clear as he placed the bird on the temples doorstep, looking for something, hoping for someone.

Decorated in a silky white dress flowing over her body and a flower crown layed in gold, she had decided to break the rules given by God's and speak to the poor mortal who looked for her ade, a mortal she missed for eons and will never forget about.

Not again.

#technoblade #dsmp techno #dsmp x reader #dsmp oneshot #dsmp fanfic #technoblade fanfic #technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade never dies

[c-swirlz]

I’m Pale as the Loose-Leaf Paper They Grow (From Hollowing Out All My Lungs in the Snow)

Summary: Tom Simons, Prince of Endlantis, is sick. His father, King Philza, must venture to the neighbouring kingdom for medicine. In his absence, Tommy and his brother Wilbur are left in the care of Technoblade, a mysterious individual who Phil claims to trust more than anyone else in the entire world. Relationships: Tommy & Wilbur & Phil & Techno Warnings: Minor descriptions of illness Characters: Tommy, Wilbur, Phil, Techno Notes: A gift fic for @florasicsfr! Title comes from Nurse's Office by Melanie Martinez. [AO3 link]

To be frank, Tommy feels like shit. His nose is running, his eyes are itchy, and he’s sweating bullets despite the goosebumps lining his arms and legs. He groans, letting his head flop back onto the pillow behind him. He retrieves a tissue from his bedside table, taking care not to accidentally bump the crown sitting nearby before proceeding to bury himself within his blanket. He holds the tissue to his nose, an incoherent grumble escaping him.

Tommy blames Phil. He only got sick after he was forced to accompany his father to the tundra for what he said was ‘urgent business’. Urgent business my ass. Now he’s here, having been bedridden for two days now, wallowing in isolation and sorrow. Sure, he gets the occasional visitor, but he’d much rather be among the people, socialising and just— being himself. Instead, it feels as if he’s a completely different person, deprived of energy, all because of some stupid virus.

There’s a knock on the door. “Come in,” Tommy calls, his nasally voice muffled by the blanket currently thrown over his head. He assumes it’s just a maid, here to bring him a fresh box of tissues and possibly clean his room, depending on if he actually managed to stomach his food this time — which he did, thank you very much.

The blanket is abruptly tossed off of Tommy, the sudden exposure to the cool air sending a shiver down his spine. “Shit!” he shrieks, sitting up and lunging for the culprit of this heinous theft. Uncontrollable laughter stops him in his tracks, and his arms drop down onto his knees, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly. “Wilbur!”

Wilbur wraps an arm around his stomach, wiping a tear from his eye. When he eventually calms down, he grabs at the glamorous robe draped around him, tossing it aside and flopping onto the bed beside his brother. “Sorry, sorry, Tom.” Wilbur grins. “I couldn’t resist.”

Tommy crosses his arms, turning his head away and pointing his chin upwards. “Well, I don’t accept your apology.”

“Aww, don’t be like that. Why not?”

“Because you’re a dick.”

Wilbur gasps, prompting Tommy to drop his over-dramatic facade. “Tommy. Now, is that any way a prince should speak?”

“Oh, shut up, man, you do it too!”

“In moderation,” Wilbur clarifies, smirking. “You, on the other hand, have the mouth of a sailor.”

Tommy opens his mouth to retort, but ends up spiralling into a coughing fit. Wilbur rests a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, and Tommy waves a hand as he hacks and wheezes.

“I’m fine, I’m—“

There’s another knock on the door, and before Tommy can react, Wilbur is patting his shoulder and standing. “I’ll get it, Tom. You sit tight and get comfy again, yeah?”

Tommy nods, watching as Wilbur approaches the door. He can’t see who’s on the other side, but based on Wilbur’s joyful exclamation, he can make a pretty good guess.

“You’re supposed to be resting, Tommy.”

“Hello to you too,” Tommy grumbles as his father approaches the bed, the smile on his face contradicting his scolding words. He takes a seat roughly where Wilbur was just moments before, reaching over to ruffle Tommy’s dishevelled hair.

“Wil and I have been talking,” Phil starts, running a hand through his hair. He’s not wearing his crown, which isn’t something Tommy sees every day. “You only seem to be getting sicker, and we hate seeing you looking… well, like shit. So, I’m gonna head over to Flowerfell and grab some medicine. Word is their stuff is super effective against colds and such.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “Why not just get stuff from here? It’d save you the long-ass trip.”

“Endlantis’ medicine is crap, Tommy, why do you think Phil gets so many complaints every day from sick people?” Wilbur plants his hands on his hips and Phil throws him a look, clearly not impressed by his interjection.

“Yes, like Wilbur just said, our medicine isn’t the best at the moment. I am working on improving that, but for now, it’d be best to outsource for better results. Plus, the royals over there owe me a favour anyway.”

“So,” Tommy bites his lip, “you’re leaving?”

“Only for a little while.” Phil stands, turning and gently pushing Tommy until he’s laying down again. “You’ll be fine, I’ve left you two alone before.”

“Yeah, but—“ Tommy swallows. “You’ve got someone to stand in for you, yeah? By the sounds of it, this all seems to be on really short notice…”

Phil chuckles, crossing his arms. “It was a little difficult to find someone, but I did manage to sort that out in advance.”

Tommy turns onto his side, hugging his pillow and tucking his knees up towards his chest. “It’s not Jack Manifold again, is it? Hate that guy.”

“You only don’t like him because he lectured you about ‘princely behaviour’,” Wilbur throws up air quotes, “one time! He’s actually a great guy once you get to know him.”

Tommy flips Wilbur the bird. Phil sighs, running a hand down his face as he shakes his head. “No, Tom, it isn’t Jack. You two haven’t met this one before.”

“Wait, seriously?” Tommy says, at the same time Wilbur’s eyebrows raise.

“Okay, now I’m curious.” Mischievous twinkle in his eye, Wilbur grabs Phil’s arm. “Who is it, Phil, tell us.”

“Bruh, I’m getting to it,” Phil says, gently prying Wilbur off of him. Tommy throws the blanket back over himself, sniffling. “He’s been a friend of mine for a really long time, even before the two of you were born. His name is Technoblade.”

“Technoblade?” Wilbur’s eyes grow big, and Tommy pokes his head out from his bundle. “That’s such a badass name, what the hell?”

Tommy wishes to express similar excitement, but winds up in another fit of dry, wheezing coughs. Fuck’s sake, he thinks, huffing when Wilbur’s fingers tangle themselves into his hair.

Phil sees himself out a few minutes later, promising he’ll try his best to be back within forty-eight hours; possibly less depending on the Flowerfell royals’ attitude. Tommy and Wilbur share quiet snickers at that, knowing better than anyone how hard it can be to communicate with them, especially on their bad days.

“Techno should be here in an hour,” is the last thing the boys’ father says to them before they’re left to their own devices. At least until Techno arrives.

Tommy immediately begins whining.

The main door of the castle swings open, a gust of cold air rushing inside. Attention falls on the stranger who steps inside, the castle staff momentarily abandoning their work to stare at him with gazes of varying scepticism.

“Relex, everyone, quit lookin’ at me like that.” The stranger places his hands on his hips. “Your king sent me to keep an eye on things while he’s gone. Don’t tell me he didn’t say anything?”

He’s met with deafening silence. He sighs. “Figures. He’s an old man; of course he forgot.” He reaches his arms out on either side of himself, grinning. “Bow down before me, peasants, for I am the mighty Technoblade.”

More silence. Techno’s face falls, and his arms flop back down to his sides. “Bruh.”

“Technoblade?”

Techno’s gaze moves towards a nearby staircase, where a young man with a faint white streak in his hair has descended, coming to a stop at the bottom as his left hand slides off the rail. His clothing is much more regal than that of the staff, and a shiny, golden crown sits atop his head.

“Ah.” Techno takes a step forward, bowing his head slightly. “Prince Wilbur, I presume?”

Prince Wilbur smiles, nodding once. “My father told me you would be coming. On his behalf, allow me to extend a warm welcome to Endlantis.”

Techno chuckles, quietly enough that only he is able to hear it. He can’t help it; the kid just sounds so polite, too much so for his age, in Techno’s humble opinion. However, if being friends with Phil has taught him anything, this isn’t the prince’s true personality. Far from it, in fact.

“If you’d like, I can show you to your room. I imagine you’ll want to get your bearings and make yourself at home before you begin your duties.”

Techno grins. “Sounds great. Lead the way.”

The moment Techno and Wilbur reach the top of the stairs, Wilbur leans against the nearby wall, breaking into fits of giggles. The laughter is delightfully contagious, and Techno quickly finds himself joining in.

“Oh–” Wilbur snorts, wheezing at the pitch of an old tea kettle. “Oh my god, I almost couldn’t keep myself together, holy shit–” He starts fanning his face with a hand, taking a breath. “Sorry, sorry, I just– I’ve not had to do that for a while.”

“‘S alright,” Techno says, lifting his arms above his head and stretching. “Now, I know you mentioned showin’ me my room, but I hear there’s a sick child I wanna check up on first.”

Wilbur blinks. “Ah– of course!” He approaches the nearby hall, motioning for Techno to follow. “C’mon, I’ll bring you to him.”

Tommy can hear voices out in the hall. Though he recognises one, belonging to Wilbur, the other is strange and unfamiliar. His best guess is that it belongs to the aforementioned Technoblade.

The voices are just outside his room now. Someone knocks, and the door swings open. Tommy reaches for the tissue box, blowing his congested nose as Wilbur enters, Technoblade – or whoever it may be – trailing behind.

“Tommy! My best brother in the whole wide world,” Wilbur exclaims, flopping down onto the bed as Tommy sits up, despite knowing he really should just keep himself comfortable so he can rest. Wilbur extends an arm towards his company. “Meet Technoblade.”

Technoblade performs a half-hearted salute with two fingers, smiling softly. “Hey there, Tommy. Oh, and you guys can call me Techno if you want. Less of a mouthful, plus it’s what your dad calls me, so…”

“Is that your real name?” Tommy asks, completely out of the blue. Techno blinks, visibly taken aback by the question. “I mean— don’t get me wrong, Technoblade is a badass name, but it just doesn’t seem like something a parent would name their kid, y’know?”

Techno laughs. “Alright, alright, you caught me. The name ‘Technoblade’ is just an alias.”

Tommy’s eyes light up. Wilbur sighs quietly, shaking his head and smiling fondly. “So what’s your actual name?”

“That’s for me to know and you to never find out.” Tommy pouts, and Wilbur giggles. “Names and aliases aside, I think the first order of business before I begin my royal duties is to make sure you don’t starve to death.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Phil would actually kill me if one of his kids died on my watch.”

Tommy immediately retreats back underneath the blanket, and muffled sneezes can be heard moments later. Wilbur places his hand on the lump and pushes. Tommy yelps, but doesn’t emerge from his cocoon.

“C’mon, Tom, let Techno feed you.”

“Shut up, bitch,” Tommy responds, and Wilbur can imagine he’s being flipped the bird from within. “I can feed myself.”

“Yeah, but in that condition, I doubt you’ll be getting up to even make the food,” Techno interjects. “I’ll make you some soup, yeah?” Wilbur stands up, stretching, and Tommy huffs, defeated.

“…Mushroom?”

Techno nods, despite Tommy not being able to see him. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

Technoblade sticks around for roughly two days. Tommy doesn’t find himself recovering at all, but the frequent visits from his brother and stand-in king at least make things bearable.

Wilbur slips in whenever he can between his tasks, when the castle staff’s gazes aren’t fixed on him. They chat, mostly about the annoying people Wilbur has to deal with. He claims that Tommy would handle them better. Tommy agrees.

Techno’s visits are less frequent, but Tommy doesn’t complain. Most of the time, he brings food, and even manages to smuggle a few desserts Phil had specifically informed the kitchen not to let Tommy get his hands on. When Tommy isn’t dying of a coughing fit or constantly sneezing, Techno lets him roam around the room for a time, as opposed to being confined to his bed like Phil instructed. They agree to keep quiet about it.

When Phil returns, the medicine he brings is a blessing. If he were able, Tommy would guzzle the entire contents. By the end of the day, he feels like a whole new prince. A whole new Tommy.

Techno is gone by the time Tommy ventures beyond his room. When he eventually finds Wilbur within the big, empty halls, he’s led to the study, where, tucked away in a hidden space, are some more sweet treats, a folded note placed carefully on top of them. Tommy doesn’t recognise the handwriting, but when he looks to Wilbur for an answer, his brother simply smiles.

Enjoy, Theseus - T

#dream smp #dsmp #dream smp oneshot #dsmp oneshot #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #philza #technoblade #sleepy bois inc #sbi #royal au #sickfic #swirlz scrawls

[drewerdyy]

NEW FIC ALERT! it’s a oneshot—in fact, my first one on ao3!

is it food for not main fic posting in over a month? NOOO-

“a juniper’s will”

Word Count: 5603

Audience: Teens+

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Flashbacks, Mafia Violence, Weapons

#dsmp fanfic #dsmp oneshot #oneshot #fanfic #angel duo #mafia au #dsmp tommy #dsmp philza

[k0ekienut]

Lonely Soul

The feeling of just appearing while also feeling that you had existed for years was strange. Knowing about something that once was and what you now are, feeling that strange disconnect between you and yourself. Ghostbur had been wandering alone for a long while, he didn't know how much time had passed. Somehow plagued by loneliness yet feeling content and happy. He could almost describe it as carefree.

Emotions were a strange thing, so Ghostbur chose not to dwell on them for too long.

Though, someone might not get from first glance at the ghost with the tears that constantly streamed down his face and the large gash in his sweater could be happy or content. At first glance you'd probably think the ghost was in pain, he wasn't. Ghostbur didn't think he remembered what pain even was. Pain could probably be described as the strange sensation on his skin from the water that fell down his cheeks Or when the rain fell onto his skin, causing a little sizzle at each drop. Maybe pain was the strange way people would look at him, like they were looking at a painting of a person they had lost years before. Staring at him like he was the embodiment of the grief they couldn't move past.

Ghostbur honestly didn't know why everyone looked so upset whenever he was around, he wasn't Wilbur. He wasn't the person who had caused so many to lose their home.

He was Ghostbur.

All he wanted was for people to know that's all he was. The little ghost who wandered aimlessly, handing blue to those who looked and lost as he felt.

The soul who some described as an opposite of who Wilbur once was.

Ghostbur was content with people saying he was the opposite of whatever Wilbur was.

He was happy to be something different than the man that blew up an entire country.

He was Ghostbur, the carefree ghost that was looking for something. Maybe someone? He wasn't quite sure but didn't mind floating aimlessly by himself until he found what he was looking for.

#ghostbur and friend #ghostbur #dsmp wilbur #dsmp #dsmp ghostbur #dsmp fanfic #fanfic #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #c!ghostbur #ghostbur fanfic #dream smp ghostbur #dream smp #dreamsmp #dreamsmp fanfic #short fanfic #oneshot #dsmp oneshot

[losingallchill]

hear me out. beeduo divorce angst, hurt/no comfort, slow burn

WHAT THE FUCK WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME IM THE BIGGEST BEEDUO HURT/COMFORT ENTHUSIAST EVER

just to spite you im going to make it hurt you're going to bleed this is a threat and im writing about tubbo being a widow now fuck u fuck you /lh

idk how i can make it slow burn in a quick oneshot but i will try my best o7 ... anyway here you are i suppose sobs

it's Way too long lmfao lmk if i should put it on ao3 or something ahaha i went overboard w this ask i think i accidentally made it angsty in the "mourning" way and not in the "arguments and divorce" way but like-

L

━━━━━━━

duo: ranboo + tubbo  genre: hurt / no comfort ; slow burn  warnings: swearing , angst , emotional breakdowns , insecurities , tubbo hates being alone , character death prior to fic , tubbo centric , character dream mention wc: 1.5k

it had become part of his day to drown his thoughts out at every chance that he got. from surrounding himself with loud, chattering friends, to working over twelve hours in the facilities at home, tubbo had always made his surroundings louder than the thoughts in his brain. 

even when he cooked for his son, and cleaned for his husband, he occupied his mind with talking and rambling, to prevent himself from thinking. it was a habit now, a way of life. 

when the news came, that his home would never be loud ever again, tubbo’s mind, for once, went blank. it was as if everything he’d ever thought of had disappeared from his brain entirely. the only sound that he could hear was a silence that was too loud, all too loud, and it filled every part of his body with panic.

technoblade, the man who had come to his house to deliver the news, gazed worryingly at him. tubbo almost wanted the other man’s eyes to be filled with his usual scorn, rather than warm pity. 

his hands, which were nestled in welding gloves, began to shake, and tubbo hid them behind his back as he stared at technoblade, his mind blank.

could no one else hear it? the silence that was creeping into his house, and seeping into his chest?

“tubbo?”

there was a heavy hand on his shoulder, and tubbo flinched, stepping away from technoblade. 

“don’t touch me.” he hated how his voice shook, and he hated the hollow creaking of the floors as he stepped back. everything was loud, and everything was quiet, and he wasn’t aware of anything he was doing, all he was aware of was the silence and the noise and his brain, and technoblade, standing before him, pitying him. 

but even as tubbo retreated into his house, technoblade stayed outside, rustling through his pockets to find something else. the world spun, but somehow tubbo remained upright. 

“he had this,” technoblade said, holding out a photograph, the sun shining off of it, so tubbo couldn’t make out what it had on it, without getting closer. “i- i don’t know who this kid is, but-”

“that’s our son.” tubbo snatched the photograph from technoblade, and glared at him. “why do you have a photo of our- of my son?”

“what- i just told you- ranboo gave it to me before he died!”

“who killed him?” tubbo demanded, the silence getting too awful to bear. he needed to keep talking. hell, he needed to keep technoblade talking. “what- what happened, exactly? tell me everything.”

technoblade looked pained, and tubbo felt, for the first time, that he wasn’t the only one missing ranboo. 

of course, he wasn’t the only one to mourn ranboo. ranboo was easy going and kind to everyone. it would make sense that even a hardened criminal like technoblade, one who despised everything that tubbo used to stand for, would mourn for someone as sweet as ranboo. 

“can i come in? it’s a bit of a long story.”

and tubbo realized he was standing in the doorway, and moved to the side, allowing his former enemy to grace the safety of his home.

his hands shook, and tubbo only just realized that he still had his gloves on, and his welder’s helmet, propped up on his forehead, and he went into the kitchen to lay them both on the counter, before putting a kettle on the stove- ranboo’s kettle, he mused, miserably. 

everything in the kitchen was ranboo’s, and he trembled as he poured hot water into two cups, and spooned in ranboo’s loose leaf tea, and added ranboo’s sugar, and raised ranboo’s teacup to his lips. 

the hot tea that flowed down into his stomach was so warm, and tubbo didn’t know why, but it made him tear up, and it made him shake and fuck he was alone. 

his husband was dead, and his son was missing, and his enemy waited in the other room, a grudging mutual respect between them due to their mutual friend.

but ranboo wasn���t just his friend. and that was what made tubbo hurt the most. 

he’d lost his partner, his other half, the one who was supposed to be there when he needed him. his minutes man, his husband, his son’s father, his ranboo, his ranboo, his ranboo. 

technoblade was waiting patiently when tubbo was able to muster up the courage to walk in, without looking like a complete mess. he carefully set down ranboo’s teacup for techno, and took a seat on ranboo’s favorite chair.

part of tubbo didn’t want to hear about this. part of him wanted to pretend like it never happened, that ranboo was going to return, covered in ender particles, like they usually were after a long day, coming back from taking michael outside. 

but the other part of tubbo wanted revenge. he wanted revenge for ranboo, he wanted to torture whoever had mercilessly killed his husband in cold blood. death was too good for the motherfucker who left him alone. 

as technoblade recalled the events of what had happened, tubbo found his fists clenching, tighter and tighter. he could feel his nails digging into his palm, his ears twitching with anger. 

“he was a fucking pawn.” tubbo muttered, after technoblade had fallen silent. “he- you could’ve saved him.”

and technoblade looked so sad that it made tubbo feel sick. “i tried. the warden- sam- had this idea that dream cared about ranboo. but obviously, he didn’t. it’s dream. he just laughed and ran off.”

his mind was swirling. “so. you. you watched my husband get murdered. you let out my best friend’s tormentor from jail. and you have the audacity to ask me if i want your help in rescuing my kidnapped son.”

tubbo was small, especially in comparison to technoblade, who easily towered above him, even when sitting. but in his quiet anger, he felt powerful. 

“you expect me to come groveling to you for help? you executed me. i still have dreams, technoblade. the fireworks appear to me in my dreams. this-” he pointed to his bad eye, which tommy had helped him bandage up, after he came back to. “this was because of you.”

to his credit, technoblade didn’t speak. 

“i hate you. i want you gone, i want you dead.” tubbo spat, rising to his feet. “get out of my house.”

and technoblade rose, silently. there was so much pity in his eyes, that tubbo felt like he was drowning. as he reached the porch, he turned around, looking down at him. 

“i know how grief feels, tubbo.” technoblade told him, his gaze far away. “i’ve suffered through it time, and time again. you can blame me, if you want, but it won’t make it any easier on you. his real killer is still out there, and you can’t take him alone. you know where i live, when you want to find your son.”

tubbo replied by slamming the door shut. he could hear technoblade sigh on the other side, and the steps as the older man walked off. 

retiring back into his house, tubbo collapsed to his knees, his chest burning. he still remembered ranboo’s smile as his second life was taken. he remembered when he had found ranboo in the water, after his first life was gone. the water burns had taken him weeks to patch up, and ranboo had told him, with bleary eyes, about how he didn’t remember anything that had happened. 

he took the photo out of his pocket, and looked at it, looked at the photo that ranboo carried around. the room that it was taken in was just upstairs, and it was quiet now. 

normally michael would be running around upstairs. the small echoes of his footsteps rang in tubbo’s head. 

it was cruel, that both of them were taken from him. cruel that the universe had decided to punish him, who had nothing to do with anything that had been happening. 

if prime really was up there, then prime, she must fucking hate him.

too much, this was all too much. tubbo hugged his knees close to his chest, the photograph slipping from his grasp and landing gently on the floor. his vision blurry with tears, he let out an awful sob. 

and if ranboo was here, he would be patting his back, he would be okay, he would be alive and he would be tubbo’s.

but no one was there. 

tubbo was sobbing in the middle of his empty house, his entire body shaking. his husband had left him, and before that, he had been locked up, and tubbo hadn’t noticed a thing. 

gasping for breath, tubbo’s mind finally continued working. and it hated him. 

because if he had noticed ranboo’s absence sooner, wouldn’t he be alive?

was it all his fault, for being wrapped up in his own work?

isn’t it his fault that he’s alone? what goes around comes around, after all. prime loves karma.

#ask #ctubbo angst #ctubbo #cbeeduo #dsmp oneshot #i'm sorry but it's what the people want baby !!

[birdystars]

Scarlet Eyes Karl Jacobs x Reader

C!Karl Jacobs x Gender Neutral reader

In which Karl tries to save you from the egg

Warnings: The Egg, Disassociation, manipulation, light injury. A/N: Not really lore accurate but its okay just wanted to write some egg stuff

You stood in front of the open tunnel. The staircase lead deep and you couldn’t quite see the end. It had all started when a note was left on the door with these coordinates on it. What intrigued you was the red vines that covered the pure white paper. The vines seemed harmless and almost seemed to wrap around your finger when you touched them.

With a deep sigh and your sword in your back pocket you head down the flight of stairs, torches scattered the walls but it didn’t make the walk feel any less ominous. Finally you reached the bottom of the stairs, it opened to a room that was covered in the same red as the vines from the paper were, but only these ones were much bigger.

The room was huge, red was covering the entire room from the floor to the roof. On the ground there was a mix of magma and lava making the navigation a bit hard. What really stood out was the vines that was spread everywhere, they were warm to the touch and almost had a life to them. Following the vines you finally notice what was in the corner of the room. A giant Egg like shape made the room feel more crowded, the vines were the thickest there so that’s where the vines must grow from somehow..

You couldn’t help it as you were unable to take your eyes off this egg thing, you have never seen anything quite like it. The thing sent chills down your spine and your hair stand on end, but even with all that you somehow felt protected in its presence.

“Closer”

The word echoed in your mind, you couldn’t tell where or who it was from but nevertheless you found yourself taking one step at a time closer to the egg.

It was just so beautiful. It gave you a sense of euphoria just by being there. You couldn’t think straight as you stood directly in front of the egg. Instinctively you reached your hand out to touch the egg. Everything was going to be okay as long as you held on. Slowly the vines started the slither around your feet locking you into place. You didn’t dare move, you didn’t want to upset this thing or the vines as they moved further up your body with thick vines, almost like a cocoon. Closing your eyes you let the red engulf you as you heard it speak one more time.

“Don’t worry you’re safe now”

“Y/n!”

Karl woke up with a jolt. No it couldn’t be, he must’ve traveled again there’s no way Y/n would be anywhere that egg. When he rolled over though he found the other side of the bed empty. No he has to stop them before any of that dream-vision whatever it was happen. He practically jumped out of bed running to grab his bag, journal, and shoes. And with that he was out the door to find y/n.

He ran across the server asking everything and everyone where they might have gone. No one had heard anything which made his suspicions worse. Finally someone had said they had last seen them around the badlands. Karl’s heart sunk when he realized exactly where that is. He couldn’t lose you, not to that mind controlling egg! He would stop at nothing to keep you away. Maybe he should’ve warned you before so you wouldn’t even think about going there.

Soon enough he came to the stairwell that was exactly like his dream. He wasted no time to run down, hopefully he wasn’t to late and you could get them away or better yet you weren’t even down there in the first place. His worst fear came true though when he entered the egg room to see a figure standing there, a figure that was all to familiar to him.

“Y/n….. is that you.?” Karl chocked out as they turned around. He was meet with Scarlet eyes, not the natural hue he was used to.

“Karl! So glad for you to finally join me! I was wondering how long it would take for you to show up” They bounced on their toes. Sure it sounded like them but something was off, proving to him that they weren’t in control of their own mind.

“Y/n I know this isn’t you, please just listen to me” Karl was stuck, he knew the eggs grip was strong, but he just hoped his love would be stronger.

“Isn’t me? Of course this is me! I’m happier than I have ever been, and the egg was the key.”

Even though Karl kind of knew what to except he was still shocked. Were they not happy with him? No it must be the egg talking, of course they were happy together.

“I don’t know what the egg has promised you, but its not right, please I can help you get out of this” Karl slowly extended his hand at them, but he was not met with your hand, instead he was met with your sword. Karl jumped back holding his now cut hand to his chest.

“I don’t want to get out of anything! The egg can give me anything I want and can give you what you want too! You just have to listen to it.” Y/n said confidently holding the sword out towards Karl.

Karl shook his head “I don’t want to fight you y/n”

In return Y/n sighed, “If you wont listen to me then I will have to make you listen.” They started walking towards Karl with the sword still outstretched “The egg has done way more for me than you ever have in our relationship, and if you just listen it can help you too”

Karl hesitantly pulled out his shield, “You’re lying, I love you and I know some part of you still loves me back, y/n please fight off the eggs influence” He said while blocking the hits from y/n’s sword.

Y/n chuckled while continuing to try and hit Karl with the sword “You know what? If you really did love me you would join the egg with me.”

Tears pricked Karl’s eyes. No matter how much he told himself that it wasn’t them, hearing it from their voice just hurt worse than he could ever imagine. Soon enough he was backed into a corner, looking once again to those scarlet eyes he knew there was no saving them, at least not yet. Using his shield and body weight he pushed back y/n as much as he could and booked it towards the exit.

“I’ll be back for you”

#dsmp #dsmp oneshot #dreamsmp #dream smp #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs #dsmp karl #the egg #dsmp the egg #angst #hurt no comfort #cross posted on ao3

[theeyoungalabastor]

Technoblade And His Apprentice: The Shattered Totem- Kill or Be Killed (Part 2)

Part 1, Part 2 (Fin)

(Art by: Jammie on Twitter)

Where does this take place?:  The Arctic Empire, New L'Manberg, The Greater SMP

What event takes place?: Technoblade's and (Y/n)'s execution

Character pairing: Piglin!Hybrid!Technoblade and Bear!Hybrid!Reader

Information on chatacter(s): Both hybrids have a human like form but when feeling threatened both are able to shift into a bigger more animal like form that will add onto both strength, agility, and height (height to look more intimidating)

WARNINGS: Blood, character death, descriptive but mild gore, angst, explosions, murder, manipulation, foul language, freezing, Character Death

Status: Platonic, Angst, Fluff, Familial (Technoblade sees reader as a sibling)

Pronouns: They/them

Word count: 2,419 (2k)

Page count: 7.1

​​​Summary: Having been included with the aid of destroying L'Manberg with Technoblade both the Piglin man and dear reader soon become the main target for a certain quartet. Nailing wanted posters to the wooden poles around New L'Manberg the ensemble set off with the intent of having the duo pay for their crimes. Public Execution.

"What do ya think about this?" Lifting the object in your hand you raised the other to fix the large crown that you had appropriated from your dear mentor. Presenting it to the man who sat at your side, long Infared strands were unbound from the loose braid he often wore, leaving them to wave elegantly with the invisible digits of lady wind to rake through. Technoblade hummed in response as he turned his head to peer at your perched figure whose small round ears flickered in excitement, a few content huffs leaving your nostrils in small puffs of air. 

"Hm, I thought you'd have more blue's in there but it's nice, I guess." He shrugged, fixing the hook of his mantle to hang limp on the soft fur that lined the base. He'd caught you a few more times than not, ruffling the soft mane, a childish grin spread across your lips. Despite everything that was happening and what was to come, you never lost those childlike innocents, but he knew under that façade you effortlessly hid behinds, was a killer just like himself. Honestly, the older male saw himself within you, the way your eyes glinted with malice when the mention of blood was brought into a conversation, or when you'd hum content melody's when reading (You caught him a few times doing the same thing). But what struck him the most was your violent urges.

The fur that limned your spine would bristle like a cat frightened out of its wits, top lip pulls into a nasty snarl to reveal your pronged trenchant canines that looked as if they could tare through the roughest of flesh and the strongest of bone. Your padded fingers would shift and contort as your dull talons soon grew blunted and keen at the tip-

It was honestly terrifying when he witnessed your full rage. 

Blood caked your snout, painting your teeth a spoiled scarlet that dripped from your chin like thinned cheese, affixes knuckle deep in the beast's carcass that lay limp at your feet. 

The Ravager had gored its pronged horn in the flesh of your side that was revealed from between the plates of your netherite armor which ended up puncturing your ribs quite bad-

"You look weird without your crown on," tilting your head to slide the said object from atop your dome shifted, resting against the cartilage of your rounded ear. Technoblade rolled his vermillion hues before shaking his head. "Well, I wouldn't look weird if you'd stop taking it." He barked. 

Your brows furrowed slightly at his words, Technoblade, your dear mentor was gifted with a monotone voice, which also meant that at times you couldn't completely compute what emotions he was expressing, if it was any at all. 

"Well, Mr. I'm-gonna-be-bitchy-over-a-crown; I wanted to do something." Standing from your spot you turned to him. Turning away he again shook his head.

"I'm not 'bitching' over the crown, it's just that you've got one hell of a pair of butter finger-" His words died on his tongue as a sudden weight atop his head became known. His body turned jagged as you fixed a few silk petals to sit on his hair better. With a nod of approval, you strode away to gather another bundle of long-stemmed flowers.

The blonde stood atop his windowsill; mangled wings pressed tight to the little of his back that ached slightly as he gripped at the windows wooden edge, his ankle sizzled with a small volt of electricity, but his mind wasn't focased on the device that kept him bound to the home to which he resides, but his attention was dead struck on the group. There, being pulled along the wooden oak path, was them. 

"You actually got them..."

Technoblade's piglin ears perked at the sound of his friend's voice, desperation sheeting his crimson eyes as he cried out defenselessly. "Phil- PHIL, WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU!?" But as he turned to face the Elytrian a harsh shove jerked his torso, a sign from the battalion to keep moving, and he did, biting the flesh of his lip till a coppery taste painted his tongue but his words still cut through the air. "You guys leave Phil alone, leave him alone, you already have (Y/N), leave him alone!"

With that being said, Philza's sapphire hues shone with utmost concern when his eyes lay upon your tattered form, your matted hair, split lip that revealed the now dry gums, a single ear presented with a split that would most likely never heal back together, blackened eye, and bruised form, gods you looked sickly, normally bright (S/T) skin now tainted with a dull grey hue. 

Your eyes were cast to the wooden walkway that to you- felt as if it were going to go on forever. Your muscles twinged and bones ached after being forced into the harsh weather of the frigid tundra where Technoblade resigned even though now you weren't as cold as before, but you still you felt as if you were to pass out at any moment when waiting to be revealed to your dear mentor as a 'prize for our hard work.' 

throughout the whole boat ride to the man in charge, Quackity, would force a finger under the bear hybrids bruised chin, forcing your exhausted half lidded eyes to look at his own earthly hues that glinted with corrupt. Technoblade, every time would let a guttural- almost protective growl would leave his throat when he watched the man handle your beaten form so carelessly as if you meant nothing, but every time he did, Quackity would snap at him with the point of his diamond axe pointed at the man as he spat threats on how he was going to toss the young teen over the edge and watch them sink helplessly into the inky abys of the ocean.

And with your already dampened mental state you kind of hoped that he would. So that you didn't have to sit, back pressed to the boats wooden walls that rocked, sending waves of nausea to wash over your aching body. You looked absolutely pathetic, once a great fighter akin to their mentor now sat, broken and tattered.

A yelp of pain left your lips as the hilt of an axe dug into the fractured bone of your ribs that had been kicked in by yours truly- Fundy shoved your shoulder harshly only to gain a sympathetic glance from the enderman who strode widely beside the small battalion of men and the two captors. 

Finally finding the strength to cast your gaze from the floor you glanced up. Just a few feet away stood a towering machine with an iron bared cage beneath, from the top of the crane, hung an anvil from a rope that began to fray from the objects weight. If you weren't as cotton minded with pain and grogginess the thought of how the hell, they got that heavy ass thing to hang from there without accidentally killing one another. But alas, you were tugged to a nearby seat within the two rows of raised seating accommodations, the fox hybrid tightening his hold against the laceration of your forearm, to which you hissed, stumbling into a corner seat, teethed bared at the burning sensation of his fur tugging at the raw meat of your wound. 

To your left, Technoblade was led to a nearby poster located directly in front of the elytrians home. The poster- surprisingly- didn't have the two of you back-to-back, weapons held high as if to strike a fatal blow, but just Technoblade. 

With furrowed brows and scrunched nose- it struck you.

There WERE no posers around New L'Manberg that contained your photo. You weren't wanted. You weren't needed. But then why where they doing this you may ask?

You were being used for leverage.

They fucking knew that you were one of the few things that the pink haired shapeshifter cared for, including Philza: Who clung to his windowsill, unfastidious wings ruffled and untidied as he watched with helpless eyes as one of his two closest friends were forced carelessly into the iron caged walls, a sheet of thick glass welded into the front for perfect viewing pleasure.

"Technoblade, if you hadn't noticed, this is not a trial, this is not a trial." Quackity mused as he leaned against the iron bars, the ones that Technoblade clung to with white knuckles. 

Anxiety devoured hungrily at the pit of his stomach as Quackity continued with his cocky monologue. "You see down there," the duck pointed in a nearby location as the other of who was encaged, looked. " When we press that lever down there, what that anvil is going to do, is it's going to drop on you, and it's going to fucking kill you!"

The larger hybrids heart thumped against his chest at the sight of the heavy object that dangled from just a single rope that looked to fray at the ends. A part of him wondered how the hell these assholes were able to hoist that thing all the way up there. 

"But!-" Technoblade looked back at Quackity.

"You're not going alone you see, right there next to you?" He turned, glancing towards the large pole with a decent sizzled platform that elevated the bottom. "Fundy, will you be a king an bring them here for me?" Quackity's voice dripped with honey flavored venom.

Maybe you were wrong, maybe they really were going to kill you.

Fundy, the grandson of Philza Minecraft grinned wickedly as his grip again turned taut, almost bruising, before yanking your stumbling figure along the path, towards the stand where Technoblade was being held. 

A harsh shove sent you stumbling, knees hitting the hard wood with a harsh thud. Fundy's hand was then replaced by another, a bit more calloused and firmer than the foxes. "Thank you, Fundy, now, go and enjoy the show huh?"

With a curt nod, the male cast a weary glance towards the encaged piglin who's eyes never left the pathetic looking figure. "Quackity, what- what are you doing with them? They had nothing to do with my actions! Leave them alone!"

"Oh no, no, no, Technoblade, you are not sweet talking your apprentice out of this, they strictly helped you destroy the very foundation we stand on today! Just like we did theirs! BLOWN TO PEICES!" He shouted the last part, yanking the rope that now bound your hands assisted by the copper cuffs that kept you from shifting, a handy cap of sorts.

You were too weak to even struggle.

Quackity dropped from the stands surface, not even bothering to use the stairs that were directly next to him, his wings flapping, an attempt to slow his fall before his netherite boots hit the wooden floor with a clunk. "Neither of you are getting out of this alone, even if it kills me." He hissed, continueing. "Now, you must be wondering what this is yes?" The man crouched next to the lever that would soon bring the blades impending doom, his earthy eyes glinting with malicious intent as he lifted the weapons form their spots, tossing one to his fellow hybrid, Fundy.

In their hands sat two cross bows, both loaded with arrow tipped fireworks. An idea cheekily crafted by Quackity himself after remembering the young presidents unfortunate demise to the same weapon. 

It made Tubbo shudder seeing that again.

You just stood; knees buckled towards each other, breathing heavily, so hard that it felt like a wheeze. 

It broke Techno's heart seeing you like this, all tattered in worn because you inderstood his intentions unlike most others. All because you wanted to destroy the very thing that drove his brother and your best friend off his rocker. 

This corrupt ass government that held one of the youngest members of the SMP and the most feared Anarchist to await their doom.

"I'm sure you recognize these baby's, yeah? I got them from your houses after we caught you!" He chirped happily. "But enough of this, Tubbo, can you please do the honors of explaining to our whole and entire team, of what's going on here?"

With a nod and hum the boy glanced back towards the two exclusionists. Technoblade's lips pulled into a hateful snarl, and (Y/n) who lifted their head to rest against the pole's stature. 

His voice wavered. "Technoblade and (Y/n) have robbed this country, of everything that made it special. Of everything that defined what it was. The two stepped in when they shouldn't have-"

The ram hybrid's voice faded into nothing, but murmurs as (Y/n) lifted their head, swollen eye peering at their mentor. 

"Techno?"

He turned with the snap of his head, boar ears perking at the sound of their hoarse voice, despite its roughness it was still music to his ears.

"Yes Artemis?" 

"Thank you." 

This took the man by surprise, no one ever really thanked him, genuinely at least. Other eyes when thanking him of his helping hand had a thin sheen of light in their eyes, just as they were made to be. But theirs shown absolute sincerity, that blanket of light that enveloped their swollen eyes as tears gathered at the ducts. "Thank you for everything. For being a shoulder to lean on, for helping me when I was at my lowest." 

The tears began to flow down the bear's face. "Hey, we're gonna get out of this, I promise." 

(Y/n) shook their head.

Chaos ensued beyond the heartfelt conversation between the two that seemed oblivious. "No, no I'm not, I'm at least 74 percent sure that I won't make it, but you still have two lives to waste. I'll be nothing but dust." 

"AIM, AIM YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

"PULL THE LEVER BIG Q, PULL THE LEVER!"

A shadow cast over the pinettes head as (Y/n) pulled their shoulders to their ears, the tip of the arrow tipped firework approaching rapidly.

"But most of all, thank you for being the dad I never knew I needed."

(Y/n) went out with a bang of color

Technoblade has reached the goal [Postmortal]

________

Unedited

#techno #dsmp techno #ctechno #ctechnoblade #dsmp #dsmp x reader #dsmp x you #dsmp x y/n #dsmp fanfic #oneshot #dsmp oneshot #part 1 #technoblade x reader #technoblade #technoblr #philza minecraft #minecraft #minecraft youtubers #platonic #sbi fanfic #ph1lza #emerald duo #sleepy bois inc #bedrock bros #sbi 115 #non bianry #nonbinary reader #they them #x reader

[casperrscapes]

Child!ClingyDuo toilet paper Wilbur's room, while child!Ranboo suffers.

(kid!benchtrio takes revenge on wilbur for embarrassing tommy. mostly just ranboo suffering though.)

“How dare he! He seriously made such a fool of me like that?!” Tommy uttered. 

Ranboo raised an eyebrow. 

“So what happened again? Because Tommy has been ranting about this for, like, an hour, and I still don’t know what he did,” Ranboo interjected, with obvious confusion in his voice. 

Tommy gasped, offended. He seriously didn’t know what had happened? Such a terrible, disastrous thing he had done, and this tall, lanky, annoying fellow didn’t even know? Tommy had made such an educating speech, and nothing had come out of it?! 

“You seriously don’t know what happened?!” Tommy scoffed. “It was terrible, he made such a fool of me!”

Tommy was obviously overdramatizing what had happened, so Tubbo stepped in to explain it.

“To put it shortly, Wilbur tricked Tommy into going with him into a haunted house, recorded him, and used his extremely girly screaming as blackmail,” Tubbo explained. “Then, he posted it onto the internet for the whole world to see.”

Tommy’s eyes widened, once again. It annoyed him how such a simple statement could sum up this disastrous situation. Plus, he didn’t scream like a girl! He had a very manly scream, the manliest scream of all! Of course, he had to talk back. 

“This isn’t simple humiliation! He’s made a fool of me, tarnished my reputation!” Tommy insisted. “I’ll be the talk of the school, everybody will laugh! Most importantly, I’ll never get any women!”

“Tommy, you do know that we’re 8-year-olds, in a sandpit, sounding like we’re plotting a murder?” Ranboo sighed exasperatedly. 

Tubbo smirked at the idea.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be so against the idea of murder. I’ve wanted to test out my toy nuke, anyways,” he hummed.

Ranboo shook his head erratically, while Tommy was nodding along at the idea.  

“Nope! Nope, nope, nope. We are not murdering a fellow child, especially not a 13-year-old,” Ranboo disagreed. “That is a terrible idea.”

 Both Tommy and Tubbo rolled their eyes at the same time. There Ranboo was, ruining their fun again. Ugh.

“So then, what do you suggest we do? Steal his lunch money? Lame,” Tommy snickered. 

Both Ranboo and Tubbo paused in thought, as Ranboo scratched his chin and Tubbo tapped his foot. 

“How about we toilet paper his room?” Tubbo offered. “We could steal some from Tommy’s washroom, go to Wilbur’s room, and just throw some toilet paper around.”

Tommy gasped. What a great idea! That’d ought to teach him a lesson. He and Tubbo made further plans, not noticing that Ranboo had gone silent. Soon, they began wrapping up their plan and got ready to execute it.

“So, everyone’s okay with trashing Wilbur’s room? We agree that it’d be mutually beneficial? Yes?” Tubbo confirmed. 

Ranboo just sighed.

“Okay, that’s…a fun…idea,” he started. “But here’s another idea! How about… we don’t do that?” he suggested.

Tubbo and Tommy just turned around and stared. 

So, it was the next day, and here Ranboo was, in Tommy’s washroom, gathering toilet paper for this little prank of theirs. What had his life become? 

“Hurry up! Wilbur’s back home from his lessons in half an hour,” Tommy exclaimed into Ranboo’s earpiece. How they had obtained an earpiece, Ranboo wasn’t quite sure.

“I’m hurrying! It isn’t exactly easy to carry 5 rolls of toilet paper,” he stated. “I only have 2 arms!”

Ranboo could hear Tommy rolling his eyes over the earpiece. 

“Incredibly long arms at that,” he replied snarkily. “Whatever, just be quick! I can’t wait much longer!”

“Okay, okay!” Ranboo grumbled. “I’ve got all the rolls now, I’ll be there soon.”

Ranboo ran back towards Wilbur’s room, barging in, and throwing the toilet paper at them. One of the rolls hit Tubbo in the back of his head, but he didn’t seem to care, only picking the roll up and turning to face the two. 

“So we ready boys?” Tubbo smirked as he spoke. 

Tommy nodded, excited. Both Tubbo and Tommy turned around, looking at Ranboo expectantly. Ranboo turned his head back and forth between the two, before simply turning around and walking out. As he left, he slammed the door shut. Now, one might scold him for being a bad friend and leaving them, but Ranboo decided that being a bad friend was better than dying at age eight. So, he left the room, headed towards the kitchen, grabbed some leftover spaghetti, and sat down to watch some dumb cartoon. Ahhh, this was life.

(this is a dialogue assignment i wrote in class. i switched some of the words around, and boom! bench trio. the prompt i was given was: 'that's a fun idea! but here's another idea! how about, we don't do that!)

#bench trio #dream smp #tommyinnit #ranboo #tubbo #dsmp #beeduo #clingy duo #drabble #oneshot #dsmp oneshot #benchtrio fanfic #mcyt #allium duo

[ficwriterwastakenalt]

Asking for a dilfbur x reader where the reader just moved and Wilbur is their neighbour :))

The (Cute) New Neighbour

(she/her prns used)

Yn recently moved to Brighton for college and to escape her strict family. Yn had h/c h/l hair and the most gorgeous e/c eyes. Her mother constantly told her that with her face, all the boys were destined to worship her, but Yn didn't want a boy.

Yn desired a man. someone with the balls (literally and figuratively) to have a family with her, someone who would adore her for her passions rather than her body.

Yn pulled up to the side of the road in front of her new home, which was far too close to another's for her comfort. After turning off her car, Yn slid out and retrieved the suitcases from the back seat; the rest of her belongings were already meant to be here...hopefully. Yn quickly crossed the street, almost dropping her luggage. "Do you need any help ma'am?" Yn jumped at the sound of the voice before turning, "sorry, I didn't mean to spook you." Yn nodded, her gaze fixed on the man. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry," she replied, blushing. He stepped up to Yn with a large smile on his face and shook his head slightly, making his brown curls shake slightly. "Here, let me hold them until you get your door open..you need shove it a little," the male said as he took Yn's luggage so she could unlock the door.   When the door opened, Yn returned to the male and said, "Thank you, Mr..."  "Wilbur Wilbur soot" Yn went to open her mouth to say when a little girl ran up to them and said, "Daddy daddy." Yn's heart melted at the sight of the little girl. "And who is this nlittle darling," Yn knelt down. "This is my daughter Willow...Willow say hello to" "Yn Ln but you can call me n/n" Willow stepped out from behind Wilbur "you're really pretty Miss. n/n" "why thank you Willow you're very pretty too"

Willow quickly hid her face in Wilbur’s leg making Wilbur laughed and leaned down to stroke his daughter's blonde hair, which will most likely turn brown as she grows older. Yn rose up, still beaming at Willow.

Yn grabbed her bags "thank you for the help Mr.Soot but I must go get unpacked" Wilbur frowned but soon covered it up with a smile "oh of course sorry to keep you, if you need anything im just next door"

---

It's been a few weeks since Yn's run-in with Wilbur, and she'll occasionally be sitting on her front steps and see him walking by with Willow, sometimes with an older male and a younger male, and she'll wave and he'll wave back, sometimes the younger blonde will shove Wilbur playfully, causing Wilbur to ruffle the boys hair.

Yn hasn't seen Wilbur in a couple of days, he's probably been busy getting Willow ready for school, which is what Yn was doing right now since she has school in the morning. She laid out her outfit and bookbag, making sure she had all of her books.

Before sneaking out her back door. Yn felt lonely as she laid beneath the stars, maybe she'll get a dog OOO maybe a cat When Yn felt her phone buzz on her thigh, she took it out of her front pocket and answered it carelessly, "Yn honey, how are you?"

Yn sighed deeply. "Hi, how are you doing, mom?" "I'm good sweetheart," Yn nodded as she sat up and picked at the grass. "Have you found any boys yet?" Yn rolled her eyes but came to a halt as they came to rest on a window.

The blinds were not drawn, allowing Yn to look straight at Wilbur, who was sitting in bed with his chest exposed as he rubbed his eye, while Willow was getting into bed. Willow looked out the window, making eye contact with Yn, and Yn smiled and waved.

Wilbur looked out the window as Willow waved back. "Yn hun?" Wilbur waved as Yn replied and waved back, "oh sorry mum, what was that?" Her mother chuckled and said good night before hanging up.

Yn hung up and stuffed her phone back into her pocket before getting up and going inside to her bedroom, where she slowly drifted asleep. Even though she went to bed at 11 p.m., which was a reasonable hour for her, the morning arrived way too quickly for Yn, and she felt exhausted. Yn forced herself to awaken and get dressed.

Yn grabbed her bookbag and checked her watch, knowing she'd be late if she didn't hurry. Yn hurriedly closed her door and dashed down her steps, looking both ways before sprinting across the street and unlocking her car, which she slipped into and turned on.

--

Yn rushed through the nearly empty hallways, drawing strange stares, but she ignored them as she sneaked into her first class of the day, thank goodness the teacher was still working through ice breakers. Before it was her turn, Yn sat in the back and listened to the others.

Yn froze when her gaze fell on Wilbur's gorgeous brown eyes. "hi, im Yn L/n uh er" Yn tightened up "s-sorry I umm" she glanced around the class everyone was watching "students eyes forward" Wilbur's voice boomed throughout the class, causing all students to turn away from Yn.

"Class, please use this time to get to know the folks you're sitting next to," Wilbur said as he knelt down next to Yn, "hey calm down Yn easy breathe." Yn nodded and tried to calm herself down. "How's Willow?" Yn asked quietly, her eyes closed and her head resting on the desk in front of her. "She misses you and wants to see you real soon." Wilbur answered, "really?" Yn grinned and tilted her head towards him. "I think she likes you more than me," he remarked, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Bring her over tonight," Yn replied quietly, not wanting the other students to hear. Wilbur smiled and nodded, "I'll let her know,"  Yn replied with a smile and a nod. Wilbur leaned in and whispered, "That outfit looks really pretty on you."

Wilbur rose from his spot and returned to his desk, leaving a flushed Yn dying in her seat. "OK class, I need to call my daughter, you have the rest of the class off," Wilbur remarked before turning around and lifting his phone to his ear.

The most of of the class, including Yn (who had finally gathered herself), left, but not before waving farewell to Wilbur and then being flushed again.

Yn ran home and quickly tided up, throwing all the cardboard boxes to the corner, looking through her fridge for something to make but finding nothing, Yn began to bite their nails, should she order pizza? ...chinesse? ...mexican?

Yn took out her phone and placed an order for pizza and sushi. Yn sat on the couch tapping her foot while waiting for the doorbell to ring. She dashed out the door and discovered Wilbur and Willow holding the food, more Wilbur than Willow. Willow was only holding one box.

Yn opened the door wider to let them in. Willow removed her shoes and dashed towards the kitchen, Yn was visably confused. "All these houses are built the same," Wilbur said softly as he followed his daughter. After him, Yn nodded.

On Yn's little couch, they all managed to fall asleep. Wilbur was laying on the couch with one leg dangling from the side and the other dangling from the couch's end. Willow was on Wilbur's chest, still awake, and Yn was squashed between Wilbur and the back of the couch.

"daddy," Yn heard Willow Whisper and felt shaking, then heard a faint hum, "yes Willow," Wilbur said, "will Yn be my new mommy?" "That's up to Yn hun," Wilbur said as he put his arm tighter around Yn. "I like miss Yn daddy," Willow exclaimed cheerfully. "It's the same for me Willow, now go back to sleep" "Daddy" Willow spoke again, almost making Yn burst out laughing "yes princess?" Wilbur replied. Yn didn't stay up to hear the rest of the conversation.

---

Yn awoke with small arms around her legs and arms around her waist. "Yn hun wake up, it's time for you to go to the airport," someone shook her shoulder. Yn awoke expecting to find herself in the arms of her cute new neighbour, but she was completely incorrect.

She was in her old bedroom again and felt the urge to cry.

#wilbur #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot #wilbur soot fanfic #dsmp #dsmp x reader #dsmp oneshot #dsmp fanfic #dsmp au #dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp x y/n #dream smp au #philza #tommy is mentioned #tommyinnit #mcyt #mcyt au #mcyt fanfiction

[bee--blossom]

feeling very jolly . if anyone has any requests (perhaps c! pumpkin duo, perhaps c! tnt duo, etc) for a holiday one shot… yk what to do ! ➡️✉️

aiming for snow , coats and scarves , hot chocolate with maybe a shot of rum , fireplaces , sledding and skiing , and so on

mwah send in requests mwah mwah

#dsmp oneshot #tntduo #pumpkinduo #sweaterduo #dsmp x reader #dsmp x you #dsmp #dsmp fanfic #c!wilbur #ah! so jolly #anon request

[re-d4cted]

hey wanna see a paragraph from a c!wilbur one-shot I'm writing

trick question I'm gonna show you anyway

it's times like these where you're said to notice the most insignificant things. for some it's the feeling of blood on their skin, for others it's the smell of death. not him, no those things had been a constant in his life for who knows how long. no what wilbur noticed, what he felt, was warmth. his body that had long gone cold, had become warm.

feel free to guess the context

#c!wilbur #c!wilbur hurt #dsmp oneshot #wilbur is not having a good time #wilbur hurt