#c!fundy come home

[bunny-beloved]

some old writing from THAT fundy stream

"i dont forgive you"

And just like that everything came crashing down at once as the harsh words fell from fundys mouth and wrapped themselves around wilburs heart, squeezing in a vice like grip until wilbur swears it might burst and shatter to the floor along with the thousands of things he wants to say but can't due to the closing of his throat. 

Fundy turns so he doesn’t have to see the pain etched onto his fathers face for a second more, partly because it hurts and partly because there is a bittersweet feeling of solace that he might have caused even a miniscule piece of pain that he felt. 

But he doesn’t think so.

Nothing can amount to what his father caused, a home he felt made just for him ripped cruelly away by the one who built it! Leaving him alone, with no true family nor friends. Just a bitter bitter feeling of abandonment and lost hope

//////////

He walks closer to the edge and despite himself, he smiles

The wind feels oddly comforting as it swaddles him at the top of that ledge, almost like a mothers hug that feels like a long forgotten memory. He lets himself smile sadly as tears start to blur his vision and cascade slowly down his face, wishing that his feelings and troubles would fall with the liquid and bury itself into the ground of his old home.

Fundy wishes wilbur would leave but he doesn’t care enough to make him, he doesn’t really want his father to watch, then again perhaps its reprisal for what wilbur did to him as he didn’t grant him the same mercy

For just a second he closes his eyes and imagines the love he once felt, someone holding his hand as cheers and singing dance through the air after a first victory. His smile wobbles slightly as he ever so calmly walks further

Fundy smiled, fundy jumped then fundy dies in the same place he was born and it almost feels poetic 

#c!fundy #c!fundy come home #c!fundy deserves BETTER #fundy #c!wilbur #dsmp writing #my writing #dsmp fanfic #old writing i never published #i never claimed to be a writer just a loser with a dream #dsmp #HOW DOES TUMBLR FORMATTING WORK

[cgogs]

dear atlas, c!dnf | 4.7k | angst with a happy ending

@dreblrsecretsanta for @purpleglitch !! Sorry for the early upload, it's just that I'm about to be BEYOND busy for the holidays and figured I'd upload this now while I have time. I hope you enjoy it so much!! Happy holidays to you <3

Each step up the castle tower sends a razor-sharp, bone-deep bolt through Dream’s legs. It’s his boot’s fault, mostly. He’s been meaning to replace them, it’s just that every hour more important things are added to his to-do list. Mediate this conflict, protect George, meet with someone here, monitor status on this, go here, deliver that, and try not to die until the day’s itinerary is complete.

Shopping just isn’t a high priority, but he’s beginning to reconsider that sentiment. He really should just give in and invest in another horse, but it would probably just be killed within a month and they’re just far too expensive for that. 

His armor clinks quietly as he moves, uneven and exhausted. A small part of him alerts like a guard dog– straighten up, nobody can know you’re vulnerable, anyone could hear how hurt you are– but another painful step quiets the barking. He traps the groan behind his teeth.

Dream stops for a moment to lean against the wall, hand braced on where the candelabra fixture hooks into the stone. This spiral staircase is dearly kicking his ass, more so than usual. Without the climb to focus on or the pain to blur his vision, he has the opportunity to take in his surroundings.

The castle is quiet, quieter than usual, candles burning low and dripping on the floor. Moonlight cuts through the windows at an angle sharper than it should. 

Dream pulls his communicator from his belt to check the time, a curse slipping out under his breath as the numbers meet his eyes. It’s nearly three in the morning. He’s coming home late. Very late. They talked about this, Dream promised he’d try to get home earlier. 

Guilt settles thick in his gut, despite barely having the brainpower to feel much of anything at all other than exhaustion. He blows the stray hairs out of his eyes, chuffing like an annoyed horse.

Four nights ago, George had been waiting behind the door at the top of the tower. Dream knew he was in trouble before George even opened his mouth. He was holding a clock and asked Dream to guess how late it was. When he guessed wrong, George shoved it in his face, too close to even see the hands, and angrily proclaimed it was nearly one in the morning, and that Dream had been coming home at one in the morning every night the last week after spending all day ‘doing god knows what, who knows where.’

Dream had done his best to be earnest and honest, as much as he could be. If George had it his way and was privy to every little thing Dream did, he’d be stoned in the street or tied to a pyre. Dream’s not sure what events would bridge the gap between these two truths, but he knows it would happen.

He had told George he would try, but that he had so much to do this week. George was anxiously picking at his cuticles the way he did when he was thinking hard, and asked him to promise he wouldn’t come home later than this. Dream thought he’d be able to. And, yes, he’s sorry he broke his promise but… it’s all so important. So important.

He hadn’t meant to let time get away from him. He just had so much to do, and so many stupid things got in the way, Tubbo and Fundy, then Q… and he got in a scrape on his way back and it was all just so fucking stupid.

Guilt grows like a vine up his throat.

He’s sorry. He thinks about what he’s going to say, how he’ll explain himself. He can’t grip on a coherent sentence or script, eyelids heavy like mud, mind fuzzy, feet aching.

Maybe it’ll be fine. George will be asleep, and they can talk about it in the morning. He’ll open the door and see dark hair splayed over feather pillows, still as death. Dream will strip his armor and curl into his body and fit whatever position George fell asleep in, and he’s so excited for it. Though currently, he’s not sure which lover he’s looking forward to seeing more– the bed or the boy.

The last seven days have felt like seven years.

Wax drips onto his fingers. Wincing, he takes another painful step forward. Suddenly things like guilt and excitement were as far away and abstract as distant planets or stars. 

Dream nearly falls through the door when he reaches the summit. He catches his breath, straightens his posture, and prepares to get ready for bed without waking his king. 

He opens the door as quietly as possible. Thankfully, it squeals only a little bit. He tiptoes in, craning his head to look at the boy already fast asleep. He’s curled all the way to the edge of his side of the bed, back facing the door. Dream wonders if it means something. 

He unhooks his cloak first, folding it gently on the table in the middle of the room. It’s a large room that can fit a round dinner table, as well as bookcases and couches and a fireplace. The kinds of things George doesn’t appreciate as much as Dream thought he would.

The boots are next to go, then his sword and his axe, then armor one by one until he’s stripped to his pants and shirt. After a moment’s thought, he shucks off his pants. Shirt and boxers. He looks at the bed and practically salivates, not even thinking to bother with changing his bandages. He sets his comm on the bedside table and attempts to lift a leg to climb in.

Dream’s legs wobble and give out as soon as he leans his weight on the bed. He collapses onto his side, a symphony of pained noises trapped behind the cage of his teeth. He looks up, wide-eyed, to see if he’s woken his Sleeping Beauty. George remains still as a corpse. 

He rather pathetically pulls himself up to spoon him, arm laying limply over George’s side. A sigh of utter relief slides out of his lungs as his chest decompresses. It’s relief like an ice bath in the desert or hot soup in the snow.

The bed is soft on his aching body, George’s sweatpants soft on his bare, bruised legs. Dream drags his calves to tangle with his, allowing himself a relieved whimper into the crook of George’s neck. He sometimes teases George for dressing like he’s living in constant winter, but really he wouldn’t change it for the world. It means soft hugs when he drags his miserable body into bed at the end of the day. If he didn’t wear his sweaters, George wouldn’t be able to cradle his head in his sleeves when he’s bleeding, and Dream wouldn’t be able to bite down on the thick fabric when he had to scream. 

He feels the tension in his body slowly unwind. Every breath has him sinking further and further into the mattress, a taut string slowly, slooowly let to rest. He pulls George closer, hooking his arm tighter around his waist. If he wasn’t used to it it might feel a little like cuddling a corpse. 

That dog in the back of his mind starts growling again. Telling him to check, check, check. 

Dream obliges since it’s a simple request, and he knows he’ll never be able to sleep otherwise. He slides his fingers down George’s arm to find his wrist, pressing on his pulse point. It takes a few adjustments, but he finds that steady beating pressing against the pads of his fingers. Alive. Safe. The last requirement needed to sleep is fulfilled. Dream sighs, nuzzling his head against George’s neck, hand still loosely wrapped around the bone of George’s wrist. 

The midnight air is clear and cool. Dream is warm and holding the love of his life. Nothing outside that horrible wooden door matters here. Nothing else matters. No blood, no bone, no war. Just George.

That is, until he hears the unmistakable sound of his communicator buzzing against the table behind him. Dream ignores it at first, but it comes again and again. His eyebrows knit in frustration. He buries his nose further into the dark space between George’s neck and the pillow, like he could outrun the nagging in the back of his mind. 

It vibrates again, breaking Dream’s resolve. He groans miserably, more than half asleep, as he untangles himself to reach back for the comm. His vision is blurry with sleep, making it near impossible to read the screen until he’s blinked a dozen times. The light of the screen shines too bright for how dark it is. He uses a hand to shield George’s direction so it won’t wake him.

It’s Punz. Punz, in code, telling him he’s finished the reconnaissance he’d been told to do two days ago. Updates on the pet experiments, no luck yet. Their theory about the revive book being exclusive to human souls is seeming more and more solid, but that’s not something he wants to be thinking about at the moment. 

<Dream> thkx

<Dream> domt text me this lat e

He fumbles the buttons, accidentally sending Punz a string of gibberish before giving up entirely on typing a coherent goodbye. He’s about to throw the device down and shove his nose back into the crook of George’s neck when the body next to him begins to tremble.

Dream stares for a moment, wondering if he’s hallucinating from lack of sleep. Then there’s a hiccup, followed by two sharp breaths, both so quiet Dream would have missed them if he wasn’t holding his breath. 

“George?” Dream whispers, voice wrecked from all the yelling he’d done today. He drops the comm on the bed so he can lay his full hand on George’s shoulder. He could be having a nightmare, but he’s not sure. All he knows is that he wants to fix it. “George?”

George gives up on keeping it in and starts crying honestly. Whiny but guttural, more hurt than angry– but it’s with his teeth, not throat. Dream sits up in bed, the exhaustion that had been possessing him instantly chased away. 

“B–by?” Dream whispers, word cracked in two from his shredded voice. “What’s wrong?”

He feels like an idiot trying to catch something that’s about to fall, chasing it around with his arms outstretched. He wants to fix this, but doesn’t know how. George is mad, he can tell, but he’s hugging himself, and that isn’t something George does when he’s mad. It’s something he does when he’s scared. 

“You’re safe.” Dream rubs his arm, pushes those beautiful brown curls out of his face, watches the tears fall over the bridge of his nose. “I’m right here.”

“Why’d’you– why’d you lie to me?” George says, strangled. He seems to decide crying is stupid and embarrassing, because he furiously wipes at his eyes. “Why are you always lying to me?”

Dream bites his lip anxiously. The same guilt from the hallway lacquers his insides again. 

“I didn’t– I’m– I didn’t lie. I lost track of time. I’m sorr–”

“You’re lying to me.” George sits up, eyes red and stubborn. He’s pulling his thoughts together to form an argument, Dream can see the gears turning. “You’re hiding things.” 

“I’m, that– okay, just. What am I lying about?”

“Where you go all day!” George has grabbed a pillow to hug, rocking himself back and forth. Dream thinks, briefly, that he looks cute. He wants to hold him, but the way they’re sitting is classic parley formation, facing each other with crossed legs, knees touching. Neither of them can cross the middle line until the argument is over. That’s just how they do things. “I don’t– I don’t know exactly what, but…”

“I’m not lying to you about where I go. I have a lot of projects, and I’m helping–”

“I know. I know. Helping, helping, helping. Fingers in a lot of pies.” George puts up an honorable fight against the wetness in his voice, still furiously wiping his tears. The skin under his eyes has turned an irritated pink. “But why? Why do you have to do so much? You’re my knight. I’m your king. You should be with me.”

George has a way of shooting arrows straight through him. Dream rubs his eyes as the words dig into his gut. His voice sounds defeated already. “I can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Dream. Like, I– I just don’t understand…”

“Yeah, you don’t.” His voice breaks and turns quiet halfway through, like he could’ve softened the blow.  He doesn’t know why he said that. He’s just tired of this same argument, over and over. It’ll be over soon. So soon. He wishes George would just believe him.

George’s expression screws into desperation, fingers digging into his pillow. “Then tell me! Just, tell me, Dream. I’m not– stupid, I can understand things. I’m not stupid.”

It’s not that Dream is angry. It’s just that he’s tired beyond tired and this is the only time of the day he doesn’t have to wear his armor. The one room where nothing else matters but the people who occupy it. He burrows his head in his hands. 

“Why don’t you trust me, Dream? Did I do something wrong?”

“Why don’t you trust me? Why don’t you just–” 

“Because I can’t even trust you to keep a super simple promise! I’m– you can’t expect me to just, like, be fine with never getting to see you.”

“Well maybe if you tried to be king even a little bit, I wouldn’t have to go do all your shit for you.”

George damn near barks, sharp and angry. Dream watches his mouth form the beginning of a thousand different sentences, hands clenching into fists before his expression breaks entirely. His angry grimace turns into a quivering frown, eyes wet with fear, voice pitched and tight.

“Are you cheating on me?”

Dream feels like he’s swallowed a bucket of ice. His back straightens as he shoots up. Instantly, he regrets antagonizing him. He doesn’t know why he said that. He’s lined with dog teeth.

“No! What? Absolutely not.” He wants to break the rules to touch him. So he does. His side stings as he leans to brush his fingers against George’s knuckles. “Never.”

Whatever angry force of nature George had been channeling before is dying now, Dream can see it fading in his eyes. Fading into some kind of relief. Maybe it was the reassurance, or the touch, but something is pacified.

“Did someone tell you that? Or make a joke?” He knows people don’t have many kind things to say about him these days. George picks at his cuticles, rocking slightly. Dream rocks with him a bit, too.

“No. I guess. Not really…” He sniffles. There’s a stiff silence. Dream searches his eyes, trying to read his mind. “I’m sorry. I’m just crazy.”

“What happened?”

“I just really wanted you to come home tonight. I stayed up.” George shrugs hopelessly, looking anywhere that isn’t Dream. “You have to understand from my perspective. I never see you, and then when I do see you you get into bed and start texting someone else. This isn’t the only time it’s happened.”

“It was just Punz,”

“I don’t care. I don’t care. Not, not my point.” George stresses, “you swore you’d be my knight but you don’t even. Knight. And I guess it’s whatever because I don’t really king either. But I… miss you. I miss you.”

Dream doesn’t know what to say. He opens and closes his mouth like an idiot fish, trying to find a way to comfort him but not make a promise he can’t keep. George waits for it. It never comes. They both feel it when the other gives up on a solution. Defeat on both sides. 

They look at the sheets silently. Their knees rub together. Moonlight makes the room glow, lines the edges of George’s hair in silver.

His voice is small when he speaks next. “Where were you tonight?”

Dream was going to lie so he wouldn’t worry him, but. “I had some trouble with monsters. I got pinned down in the forest. I’m sorry.”

George scoffs. Somehow, Dream knows the frustration isn’t directed at him. “Oh my god. That’s not even your fault.”

“I don’t know. I could have texted you or something. I’m sorry I kept you up.”

George wipes his nose with the edge of his pillow. Dream would think it was gross if it was anyone else. “It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry I’m not around. I want to be. This, it’ll all be over soon. Things will settle down.”

“Does it have to be you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

George nods weakly. He knows he won’t get a better answer. Dream doesn’t have a better one to give him. He’s too tired. 

“And you’re not cheating on me?”

“You are the prettiest thing in the whole world. I’d be an idiot.” He doesn’t know if flattery will get him far, but he can see the corners of George’s mouth flicker, and that’s enough. “You’re the only one that would put up with me anyway.”

“Why is your voice so messed up?” George lays his pillow back down on the bed. His legs unfold and he moves to lay back down. Dream wants to scoot closer, but thinks twice. There’s a moonbeam shining there. He doesn’t want George to see his legs. 

“Screamed a lot.”

“Why?”

“Scaring people to cut their shit out.”

“Mmh.”

This is George’s script for end-of-day. It doesn’t have a lot of heart this time. Dream is realizing it never truly did. He feels bad. George lays his hand in the empty space, beckoning him to come forward or lay down. Dream doesn’t move. He sucks in a breath.

“Are you okay? Did… Dream, are you hurt?”

He’s an idiot for thinking he could keep it from George, of all people. But he didn’t want to worry him.

“Uh. Well, yeah. But it’s okay. I promise. I already treated it.” Dream knows this won’t work. He tries to lay down, legs twitching through the pain. George clocks it immediately, propping himself up on his forearms.

“Show me.” 

It’s not a request. So, Dream does. He pulls his legs into the light in all their bruised glory. His foot, the one that was giving him the most trouble, is a far deeper shade of purple than he anticipated. 

George runs his fingers over each bruise, marble white and cold as stone. His expression is stone. He must spot a hint of bandage from under Dream’s shirt, because his eyes flit from his bruises to his side, and Dream knows the jig is up.

“I promise it’s okay. I promise, George.” Not that his promises mean anything. 

George must think so too. He ignores him in favor of gently pulling up his shirt, spying the blood soaked bandages wrapped around his middle. Dream hisses when the fabric of his shirt catches on the gauze. George frowns.

“Why would you let me just yell at you for being late? You should have told me.” 

“To be fair. I was late.”

“To be fair. You were wounded. You literally got jumped.” 

George gives it an apologetic look, tracing the blood stains with the tips of his fingers. Guilt doesn’t look good on him, but Dream doesn’t know how to fix it. 

“Change those first thing when you wake up.” George sets his shirt back in place. He gently tugs on Dream’s neck to lay down. Nothing sounds better. “And don’t jump around and stuff.”

“I know.”

They curl up together, noses nearly pressing. It’s faint in the dark, but Dream can see the pitiable expression on his face. Thin, cold fingers come to rest on Dream’s jaw. Dream holds his hip in return. Equal and fair, reciprocated and even. George searches his eyes for an anchor, something to respond to. He just looks sadder and sadder as the minutes press on.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I just miss you.”

It’s hard for Dream to whisper back. “I miss y–u too.”

“Do you really?”

“This is my favorite part of the day. Getting to hold you. ‘N be held by you.”

The fingers on his jaw twitch. George’s thumbs cradle his face. Dream watches his face carefully. Though he knows every curve and edge and nasty imperfection of George’s being, it only hits him in moments like this just how much he has to protect. The whole world fits in the curve of his arms. The whole world has a kiss like a nine-volt battery and fury like a god. The whole world waits for him to come home every day, hoping he’s in one piece. Dream wonders if the world knows he’s trying to save it. 

“I love you.” George whispers, barely tethered to the waking world. Maybe he realized he hadn’t said it when they were fighting, or after they decided to stop fighting. Maybe it's the last thing he thinks before going to sleep, and the first thing he thinks in the morning. Maybe it was coating the back of his throat like Dream’s guilt coats his, and he just had to tell him.

“I’m sorry.” Dream kisses him. “I love you.”

George falls asleep with tear tracks that have just barely dried. Dream wipes them away with his thumbs, admiring how peaceful he looks. 

Dream sleeps like the dead, but wakes with the dawn no matter what. He lingers in the warmth for a while before the sun’s light is too much to bear. Properly waking up to pain first thing in the morning is beginning to be a more and more common occurrence. His legs pulse with every beat of his heart, and his side isn’t much better. There’s a few droplets of blood on the sheets, which is what finally gets him to untangle himself from the mess of limbs that snaked around him in the night. 

George stirs lightly, but it’s unlikely he’ll truly wake before eight. Dream gently tugs at the arms around his neck, and they retract with a sleepy, confused mumble.

“I have to change these bandages.” Dream whispers against his temple. 

George makes an agreeable noise before moving to hug his pillow instead. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Dream spends the morning planning his mental itinerary. But also, redressing his wounds, and trying to figure out what to do with his legs. Salve, maybe. A healing potion, but he’s running low and wants to save them for an emergency. Besides, he took a few sips when it happened. It should be fine.

He’s supposed to get up now and meet with Punz. And then work on the book, and then go here and do this, and patrol that. But his legs just won’t move. 

He thinks, maybe for one day, he can spend it doing nothing. Besides, he actually is wounded. He does need to recoup. It’s not an excuse, yeah?

He wants to make it up to George. He’s not much of a romantic, and really he sucks shit at being a boyfriend, but he knows one thing that always makes George smile. The big toothy kind that makes his cheeks pink. He wants to see it before he has to get back to work.

Dream leaves a note on his side of the bed telling him that when he wakes up he should go to the hill outside. The one with the big tree.

Dream hobbles himself to the florist. He hopes that with his mask and baggy clothes, Niki won’t notice his limping. A dozen red roses. By the time he’s gotten there and halfway back, he’s convinced himself he’s walked off his bruising. 

Under the oak tree on the hill overlooking the castle, Dream spies a red cape blowing in the wind, and the glint of gold. The person faraway raises a hand over their eyes to peer, then uses his entire arm to wave at him hugely. It makes Dream laugh. 

They hurry to meet each other. George just seems excited to see him, like he always seems to be, except late at night when he’s already too angry. George doesn’t leave the shade, but he holds out his hands for Dream to take so he can pull him up the hill. Dream gives him one arm, the other holding the bouquet behind his back. 

“Wow. You’re actually in the sun. I never see that.”

“I got you something. I’m, uh, making it up to you.”

George pauses, wide eyed, trying to lean to see what’s behind his back. 

“It’s not a puppy, right?”

“What? No. What? Why would I get you a puppy?” Dream keeps turning to keep him from seeing. He can feel his own smile cracking his face. 

“I don’t know, I got scared! Now gimme.” George tries to blindly reach behind him. Dream grabs his wrist and pulls him close, wrapping an arm around his waist. George smiles at him smugly.

“Not even a thank you or anything?”

“I don’t know what it is yet, idiot. You haven’t given it to me.” George’s busy hands settle for pushing his mask up, instead. The breeze feels cool on the light layer of sweat that’s formed on his forehead. George smiles warmly at his face. It’s a smile Dream doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of. But not the exact one he’s aiming for.

Dream’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Ohh, you want me to give it to you? Here? Outside??”

“Oh, shut up! Show me. I demand it. As your king.” He tilts his head regally, crown glinting in the light that’s casted through the leaves. Dream almost forgets they ever had a fight at all.

Dream pulls the flowers from behind his back and presses them to George’s chest. He tries to give him a smile with it, but knows it probably looks a bit forced. George doesn’t seem to notice at all, face erupting into a smile nearly immediately. The smile. Dream can’t help but stare.

Dream thinks this must be what sunbathing is meant to feel like.

“Dream! I love it. I looove it.” George hugs them close, still beaming. Dream thinks he understands religion. “What’s the occasion?” 

“Huh? Oh. I’m sucking up.”

George laughs. Takes a brief break, then laughs again. “You’re so stupid.”

“I wanted to cheer you up.” Dream rubs his thumb on his side idly, soaking in the feeling. 

“You derailed your whole day just to get me flowers?”

“Uhhh, well. I canceled my whole day to recover from my grievous wounds. My life threatening injuries. Oh no. “ Dream spins them a bit dramatically, just to make George laugh. There’s a few rose petals on the ground.

“Oh, you need someone to kiss it bett– wait, really?”

“Yeah, really. Hey, what was that you were offering just now?”

“You’re not doing anything today?”

Dream shakes his head. George’s face lights up. 

“Stay!” He blurts, “You should stay. Stay here. With me. I’ll kiss the stupid boo-boos better.”

“I don’t have anywhere better to be.” Dream shrugs, casual, aloof. “And I like kisses. Sure.”

Unexpectedly, lips crash into his. All of George’s weight crashes into him, really. Arms snake around his neck, and he tries to support them both before he realizes George is trying to make them fall. He goes limp, letting George tackle him into the grass. George is still kissing him. He pulls Dream’s neck to the side, which Dream allows because he hadn’t realized they were on the edge of the hill.

He yells into George’s mouth as they go tumbling, wrapping his arms around George’s head to make sure he doesn’t hit it. Someone is laughing, maybe both of them, as they spin and spin and spin and leave a trail of petals behind. 

The world finally comes to a stop with George cradled on top of him, gloved hand still covering the back of his head. 

George sits up, looming over Dream’s face, laughing like the whole world is laughing with him. Dream might have gotten the wind knocked out of him. The sun is eclipsed by George’s hair, a halo hanging behind him. His actual crown has probably rolled further away, but neither of them can care about such stupid things when there’s so much in front of them. 

Dream breaks the mirage to sit up and kiss him. Then kiss him again. There’s a buzzing in his back pocket, but it’s tomorrow’s problem. 

Today, the world loves red roses and fits in the curve of his arms.

#c!dnf #my writing

[w3ndytheraccoon]

C!Tommy is my favourite character, however, that doesn’t mean he gets a pass.

In simple word, C!Tommy is a narcissist, or atleast show alot of narcissistic traits. Self importance ? Check. Entitled to some degree ? Check. Arrogant ? Check. Jealous easily ? Check. Rarely believe something is his fault ? Check.

( Obviously, just because someone has some of these traits, that doesn’t mean that they’re a narcissist or a bad person, it depends on the context )

Now, I guess you can say that since Tommy is canonically 16, being a narcissist is expected, because most 16 years old is a self - centred asshole. But like I said many times, just because it’s justified, that doesn’t mean it’s okay.

Tommy has show signs of a narcissist ( Arrogant, entitled ) ever since he joined, and as the lore progresses, he starts to show more. It even gets worse when he got mad because he can’t fathom the fact Tubbo has a life out of him. He threatened to kill Michael for fuck’s sake ( I still love reading about them bonding tho ) !

And the whole “ Me and Tubbo vs Dream “ always gets on my nerves. Yes, Tommy has been hurt by Dream but he’s not the only one. What about Sapnap and Geogre who have to watch their close friend spiral ? What about Puffy who lost her fucking son and felt responsible for how he turn out ? What about Ranboo ? What about Niki and Jack and Fundy who lost their home when he blew up L’ manberg ? What about Vikkstar & Lazarbeam ? Dream has hurt almost everyone, not just Tommy, yet he believes he’s the only one.

Not to mentioned, he claims Tubbo is his bestfriend, yet hesitate when he’s asked to choose between him and the discs. Tommy has been an asshole to Tubbo and Tubbo has also been an asshole to Tommy times to times ( I will cover this more for when Tubbo’s post comes ). C!ClingyDuo is a shitshow (and when you include Ranboo and make it C!BenchTrio, it gets even worse ), they’re both bad for eachother. Sure, there are times where they act like actual, healthy friends, but half the times, their “ friendship “ is held together by shared trauma.

While Tubbo is treated like something comparable to the fucking discs, Ranboo is seen as an obstacle half the times. Yeah, Tommy covered for him when they burnt Geogre’s house, but that’s it. After that, whenever Tommy is with Ranboo, he’s just a tad bit more hostile and he always show jealousy when Ranboo and Tubbo are together. Like C!ClingyDuo, C!AlliumDuo is also toxic as hell and is barely being held together by the fact they have a mutual friend ( Tubbo ).

Don’t even get me start on Jack. I joined the fandom relatively late ( Post Prison Arc ), when the fandom’s opinions start shifting, and Tommy became a baby who can’t do anything wrong, so Jack’s death was pretty much brush over. It doesn’t help that I learn the lore solely through fan content, and as I said, opinions start shifting and Jack’s death got no acknowledgement. I didn’t even know why he was so mad at Tommy until a few weeks ago when I read a fanfic ( On Temporizing by LuckyMagicBelle ). No one in the fandom and the lore acknowledge it except Jack and maybe Niki, not even Tommy himself.

And that’s not even talking about all the casual crimes he commit, which I will not be getting into, because I’m pretty sure everyone have commit atleast 3 casually crimes at this point.

( Putting this just incase. Like in the one I made about Dream, just because Tommy is an asshole sometimes, that doesn’t mean the shit that happened to him is okay. And how he turns out is realistic imo, because I know that if I went through what he did, I’ll come out worse. But still, a flaw is flaw, and this is a call out post. He is child and someone should’ve show him how to be better, not let him continue to be like this )

Conclusion : C!Tommy is an actual war criminal that is in no way, shape or form innocent, yet most the fandom ignore that because they woobified him. He’s an asshole sometimes and it’s fine to be paranoid after the shit he went through but he needs to understand that Dream isn’t always out to get him. Also, C!BenchTrio needs to split up, have some therapy and spent some times for themselves before they’re ready to be friends again.

I still love him and will defend him with my dying breath though.

Edit : Y’all, I just saw a post that said C!tommy is a accurate portrayal of an abused victim, and now I can’t tell which of my points are actually him being an ass and which one is me being insensitive / overreacting and not realising that he’s intended to be written that way to be accurate. Please tell me because I do not want to offend anyone-

#dsmp tommy #dsmp #dream smp #tommyinnit #ctommy #c!tommy #C!tommy critical #c!tommy slander #he’s my little guy #but fucking hell #he’s an asshole #dsmp call-out with raccoon #call-out with Raccoon #All this being said #I will continue reading fanfic bout them being adorable and wholesome #Next is C!Wilbur

[echolocati0n-art]

More c!puffychu headcanons (theyre called headcanons because i need my head examined)

puffy sometimes grows a beard because sheep genetics and niki thinks its very cute albiet a bit scratchy

puffy bleets when shes surprised and niki will switch to german when shes angry or tired, they find eachother extremely adorable

nikis love language is words of affirmation and puffys love language is quality time

in my head, the dsmp ended with clingyduo successfully killing drm forever, and niki finds puffy before all the egg stuff and everything gets resolved yayy happy ending anyway

puffychu pirate adventures

niki gets seasick sometimes but she has a hell of a voice for shanties and loves the view (her girlfriend working on the deck in just a t shirt because its hot out)

puffy has a very high alcohol tolerance because shes a pirate whilst niki has a very low tolerance because she hasnt built it up yet

niki will drunkenly switch to german sometimes and puffy only knows a few words (shes learning) and gets very confused

(im not bilingual idk how this works please dont make fun of me)

also it would be cool,,. pirate smp puffys eyes are red and she got defensive when it was brought up... imagine c puffys eyes are stuck red after all of the egg stuff and theyre the same character except a few years apart

i dont want to associate the pirates smp with the dsmp but can you imagine

ANYWAY im rambling now

nikis birthday is today (august 6th and no not the ccs) and she didnt expect anyone to show up except puffy and maybe jack but puffy made SURE many people showed up (quackity and wilbur are banned from her birthday party this year after the 2020 fiasco)

the syndicate came, all with different presents, some of phils crows have picked up shiny things for niki and put those things on the presents table

clingyduo, jack, fundy, and hbomb show up as well

they all play games like jackbox and amongus and then niki opens her gifts and everyone has an amazing time

puffy gifts niki some weighted blankets to make sleeping easier, but the biggest gift comes in the form of a new cottage right above her city in the flower fields, so she can always retreat to the cave and work on the city, but she always has a home aboveground as well, niki absolutely adores it and when she feels ready, theres a huge kitchen space for her to start baking

puffy moves in later :)

it also came insured (aka if anyone fucked with it they would take all 3 canon lives, they gave a side eye to tommy who just whistled and acted like he didnt notice it)

puffy constantly gives forehead kisses because niki is small, niki will sometimes grab a horn, pull her down, and get her back with a kiss on the cheek in return

they are both huge blushers they will turn tomato red at any affection ever

niki stays up sometimes to make sure puffy gets to sleep okay (paranoia makes it hard) but when puffy wakes up she will stay up for a few mins to make sure niki is sleeping okay (night terror having gfs <\3)

niki snores very loud and talks in her sleep and puffy thinks is so silly

i am tired and thats all i have for now but i hope you enjoyed <3

#dream smp #puffychu #c niki #c puffy #nihachu #captain puffy #dsmp #dsmp headcanons #they make me soooo crazy #dsmp shipping

[cmyknoise]

So, yippblr correct me if I’m wrong, but c!Fundy has had recurring dreams of the L’manburg van in this barren dessert. 

I think, in the book we just read the mentions of a desert primarily tie into the story of Ozymandias, however, I think pulling from information we know about limbo, the afterlife, Wilbur, and XD, and stuff about Fundy, you can easily tie them together. This is my sort of idea on how. 

Wilbur Soot was in limbo for 13 years, and others who have been dead and remain dead have been there for longer. From everything we’ve heard each limbo is essentially hellish and designed to make the dead suffer. 

XD implied that this is how he gets his energy and power. He consumes suffering and chaos and it in turn gives him power. He implies that he is responsible for limbo and it being the way it does. I think it could be safe to assume that, similar to George’s dreams, he controls limbo and uses it to feed and power himself. He purposefully makes limbo hellish to make people suffer, so that he can feed from it. 

Because limbo isn’t an after life, it’s the in-between. In almost every origin for limbo ever it’s the in-between of life and death. It’s where people go if there’s no set place for them to go, or it’s a waiting place so they can be brought to whatever their afterlife may be. It’s supposed to be temporary. But, so far... it isn’t. 

Wilbur talks about what he thinks the afterlife is, what he wants it to be, which is so interesting coming from one of the only people who could speak on limbo, and he doesn’t think that’s the afterlife, or at least he hopes it isn’t. 

He thinks the afterlife is a large desert where he and all the people who want to be there, who want to join him, where they can start over. Where they can start over right and happy and create home again without the hardship they all faced before. 

L’manburg is their home, it started with a van. If they were to start over... it’d make sense if they started over again with just a van. Poetic, maybe. 

And then that brings up Fundy’s dreams. He has dreamt of a barren waste of a desert with just a van, and no one else there, it’s vacant and alone.  I think one could argue they could be symbolic dreams, of Fundy’s fears or worries or stress, but Fundy’s other dreams have been near prophetic. 

What if this was too? Or... almost. Rather than seeing the future or something, he’s seeing another place. He’s seeing the afterlife (i mean, if you consider things like his potential lineage with his grandparents that could help). He’s seeing the afterlife at that given moment except... it’s empty. 

It’s empty because no one is there. There should be, but there isn’t, because no one is allowed to pass on. No one is allowed to be there. 

Maybe, if things were different, he’d see his dead father rebuilding, he’d see an oasis of life in a desert. He’d see Tommy briefly, he’d see the start of something, he’d see something... peaceful. But it’s not, it’s barren and cold and empty. 

Fundy is seeing the afterlife, devoid of life, and doesn’t know what to make of it, what it is. 

This could mean something, it could not. 

Maybe he’d see something different if people had been allowed to pass on, if they ever are in the future. 

Maye it was supposed to mean something, he was supposed to see something, but the pieces never fell into place how they were supposed to so he never did. 

There’s lots of what-ifs and potentials with this, I guess.

#dsmp #dream smp #wilbur soot #fundy #theory #analysis #dsmp analysis #dsmp theory #dsmp spoilers #lemon's stuff

[mellorphic]

In Defence of c!Niki - a Four Part Analysis of Every Arc

People who didn’t watch C!Niki see, in the fandom, a big sister type character with girlboss energy who wants to kill a child. Niki isn’t that. She has a well-written narrative which focusses a lot on her relationships with others. Here is me breaking it down!

PART ONE: c!Niki’s Early Days

PART TWO: c!Niki’s Rebellion

PART THREE: c!Niki’s Disillusionment (you are here)

PART FOUR: c!Niki’s Healing

TW FOR THIS SECTION: brief mention of sh, derealisation, a lot of discussion on grief and death. Let me know if I should add more tws

I don’t think c!Niki’s disillusionment arc started on Doomsday, randomly. I think it started on the day of the festival, when Niki watched her friend die, was chased out of her home, and saw how much her best friend had changed.

Despite her anger at Tubbo for his speech (which sounded very pro-Schlatt) she still told Schlatt to let him out once Schlatt and Quackity started to box him in. It still had not been revealed quite yet that Tubbo was a spy, yet Niki still stood up for Tubbo regardless of how she felt about him. That’s the thing about Niki. She is a good person with sound morals who will support people even if their views don’t align with hers, because she knows what’s right and what’s wrong and she won’t let ‘wrong’ happen to anyone.

Once Techno killed him, Schlatt literally fucking exiled her.

N: You killed him!

S: yeah, I did. I did fucking kill him, Niki.

N: you are so cruel- how could you do that? After everything he has done for you?!

S: he’s been a thorn in my side since-

N: I DONT EVEN WANT TO BE HERE.

S: he-

N: I DON’T EVEN WANT TO BE HERE!

S: […] you can leave if you want

N: ….Where am I supposed to go?

Manberg may not be Niki’s home but L’Manberg is and it always will be. That’s why the thought of leaving for good hurt her so much. Wilbur comes out into the open after she says this, and he defends her.

S: you really crawled up here on the day of my festival, celebrating my country. That you are not a part of. And you started- you started crying.

W: You sounded like you were gonna murder another person.

S: no, I was only gonna murder Tubbo.

W: you sounded like you were gonna go for Niki.

S: he’s the only person- well I mean, Niki..

N: what?

S: I might murder Niki, actually. I might murder her.

Wilbur tells her to run. Fundy gives Schlatt arrows but he and Quackity tell Schlatt not to do it, all the while Niki’s getting chased out of the country she used to love. This solidifies for her the fact that she truly has lost everything. Ponk chased her down and he killed her - Ponk, who a few streams before, Niki had called a friend. Earlier Techno had also killed her, when he shot at the audience after killing Tubbo. According to the wiki neither of those are canon deaths but I think they should be. At the very least, being killed by Ponk should be.

She joined Pogtopia that day, and Niki already had heard about Wilbur’s plans from Tommy. He, her and Tubbo had all vowed to get L’Manberg back and at this point in time, Tommy was the person she trusted the most. Her relationship with Tubbo had been ruined because of her thinking she was on Schlatt’s side - and even now that she knew he hadn’t been, it didn’t change the fact that he did not stick up for her while she was there. Her relationship with Wilbur was still a close one but she was scared for him and worried for L’Manberg’s future. But Tommy hadn’t wronged her, and she knew she could trust him to help with Wilbur.

Her birthday party was where she really saw the extent of Wilbur’s mental decline first hand and was completely powerless in stopping it. The day had been going so well, and she’d been having fun, until Wilbur went to blow up Manberg. Niki had to beg him to stop playing the anthem and Quackity talked him down from blowing it up, but Niki was terrified.

This is when Niki began working on her Secret City - intended to be a safe space away from the conflict, or a last resort for refugees if the war went badly.

On November 16th, Niki was hopeful, especially after Techno revealed his armoury. That day, Niki also defended Eret when they were accused of being the traitor, saying she trusted them and that they helped her. Once again, proving her loyalty and the fact she was grateful for people who stuck by her side.

We all know what happened later. After they got L’Manberg back, and were cleaning up, Niki found the TNT Wilbur had placed under the podium. She made sure nobody else saw it and she hid it again. Because after everything, Niki still believed in Wilbur. She was still loyal to him. She still saw the good in him and trusted that he wouldn’t. But he did.

She’d kept her promise, she’d been loyal to him and L’Manberg, and it didn’t change anything. She didn’t manage to help anything. And Wilbur, the one person Niki believed would always be there for her, no matter what, betrayed her. And she couldn’t even ask him why. So after that she was left hopeless and never wanted to let anyone in again. But as much as Niki didn’t want to, that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

Tommy reminded the L’Manbergians that the L’Mantree was still there. And I think Niki found that comforting, at the very least. She asked Tubbo what they were going to do with Wilbur’s body and his only response was “let him rot”. She and Tommy were the only ones who didn’t laugh.

At this point Tommy became a constant, for Niki. He’d been there since she joined, he was the only one who understood that she still wanted Wilbur back, and in her eyes he was able to take on his role in the sense of inspiring them all.

So, of course it hit her hard when he tried to blame her for burning down George’s house. Then, he’s exiled and the next time she heads from him it’s because he blew up the community house - we know he didn’t, but Niki didn’t. She begins to see Tommy as someone who just causes problems on the SMP, nothing more. She thinks he’s arrogant and a nuisance and that he doesn’t care for anyone.

When it comes to Niki’s character it’s vital that we understand - she has been through so much pain that got overlooked by everyone around her. At this point, she was poor, grieving, and felt as if nobody in New L’Manberg listened to her. She was going through the lowest point in her life and nobody in that nation seemed to care.

And she couldn’t hate everyone for it so she needed someone to blame and that happened to be Tommy. He didn’t deserve it but he was an easy target. And it’s true that he wasn’t kind to her, but he wasn’t the only one, and he was obviously going through his own things. But Niki was angry and she needed somewhere to put her anger. Is that fair? Not at all. But it’s what happened.

N: L’Manberg has not been L’Manberg. For many weeks. Maybe even months, maybe even.. maybe even, I don’t know.. since the start? […] I want the people to realise L’Manberg is not what they think it is. I want them to open their eyes and stop being in this circle.. in this circle of fighting for it. Because that will not bring us anywhere.

Do I even need to say anything? She fought for it for so long, on her own, and lost everything and everyone anyway.

On Doomsday, she spoke to Ranboo.

N: Do you.. do you really think L’Manberg should be safe today? …Ranboo, I will- If you think that we should fight for L’Manberg today, I will fight with you. Because I believe in you. And I always believed in you.

R: I think we should. […] the thing is, if we don’t fight with them, then what are we showing them? We’re showing them that we never cared about them.

N: .. i care about them, I really do. But I got.. hurt by them… They always talk over me, Ranboo. You know how that feels.

R: yeah. But like you remember yesterday, sometimes you just have to get louder.

N: You’re right..

R: sometimes you just have to get louder until they have no choice but to hear you.

And good god, isn’t that exactly what she did? Something something, peaceful protest is ignored (striking at her bakery, not paying her taxes, verbally standing up to Schlatt). OSomething something, she got louder. (Burning down the L’Mantree, blowing up her bakery)

An underrated line from Doomsday though? Niki telling her chat that she needed to save Puffy. I think she was muted so you’d only hear the line if you were on her stream, but she tried to help Puffy after and seemed distressed that she couldn’t get to her. Puffychu crumbs.

She held it together until she saw Ghostbur, believing she was hallucinating and repeating to herself that Wilbur was gone and that he betrayed her. She doesn’t want to care, but she does. And the idea of Wilbur still existing terrifies her, because what does that say about her grief? And if her grief isn’t justified, then the things she’s done definitely aren’t. As long as Wilbur is dead, Niki feels like she has a reason for her anger.

During her meltdown Niki is rambling. ‘Wilbur is dead’ becomes ‘L’Manberg is dead’ which becomes ‘L’Manberg is gone’ which becomes ‘I am gone’ and ‘I am L’Manberg’. This reveals a lot about Niki, even if it may seem nonsensical at first glance.

I’ve made a post before about how for crime boys, L’Manberg is interchangeable with the other person (For Tommy, it’s Wilbur. For Wilbur, it’s Tommy.) And I think that this is the same thing for Niki. L’Manberg is Wilbur. Wilbur couldn’t live without L’Manberg, and L’Manberg isn’t the same without Wilbur.

Then, she is gone and she is L’Manberg. Niki isn’t the same person she used to be and she’s starting to think that she can’t live without L’Manberg either, not happily, anyway. But at the same time, she helps to destroy it because the memories are too much to bare, and all it does is remind her of all the times she’s been hurt there. She can’t see the good in it anymore.

Destroying her own bakery was somewhere between emotional self-harm and trying to separate herself from L’Manberg as much as possible. There could’ve also been a sense of survivors guilt? Everyone else’s homes and things were destroyed but Niki’s bakery was untouched, and she found that really unsettling.

She talks to Jack about why she burnt down the tree, saying it was because she’s lost everyone.

J: that’s not a very good way of going ‘hey, I wanna be friends again’, burning down their sacred tree.

N: i don’t want to be friends with any of them again! Have you seen them?

J: then why do you care?!

N: because it hurt me! […] we both have been ignored by all of them all the time. We walk behind them slowly and-and carefully because they will ignore us all the time but we wanna be part! We wanna be part- we’re like little puppies, aren’t we?! Like little puppies, just walking and walking. But they’re never going to see us. All we are for them is something to take something from. […] whats the difference between these people and us? When we lose something, we lost it. And we grieve it. And it will be a part of us. When they lose something? They move on and they find something new.

I feel like people who think c!Niki is badly written or don’t like her just watch this stream and think she is overreacting because they don’t know her lore. But none of this came out of nowhere.

The thing is, Niki was ignored throughout Manberg and New L’Manberg by Tubbo and Fundy and sometimes even Eret. Niki has had things taken from her by Schlatt and Tommy. She has seen everyone move on from Wilbur when she couldn’t.

I think the other characters did care about her - Wilbur definitely did and Tommy did too. Karl did, Eret did, Puffy did. But it’s so difficult for her to see that because the love is so quiet in comparison to everything else. She’s no longer an idealist, she can’t see it when it isn’t right in front of her. And that doesn’t mean she’s wrong. She’s not completely right, but she’s not wrong about being used and feeling unwanted. That did happen.

So why does this turn into hatred at Tommy? Like I said earlier - he was a constant. The only one she still had after Wilbur, but he didn’t seem like he cared about her. In Niki’s eyes he became just like the rest of them - he used her left, and then when he came back she thought he’d replaced Wilbur with Techno and was now replacing him with Tubbo.

(I’m not saying I think that’s what happened but it’s what Niki saw. This part of my analysis is also partly speculation and partly based on things Niki said after the fact, because I can’t find the vod where she and Jack decided to target Tommy specifically, I think there’s a missing one between Niki’s Doomsday vod and the one where Jack tells her about the nukes.)

She directs her anger at him also because it gives her an ally. Jack blames Tommy for most of what’s happened to him, because Tommy resulted in him losing his second life; if Niki agrees that it’s his fault then she has Jack. So unconsciously she starts directing her anger more towards him.

The thing about Tommy is that he’s loud. He’s annoying. He can be rude. He doesn’t take things seriously, especially when he’s being painted in the wrong, because he doesn’t know how to handle it so he just deflects.

That makes him a really easy target for anger. But the vast majority of what happened to Niki was never Tommy’s fault. She blames him for Doomsday, she’s angry that he used her, and she’s processing her grief of Wilbur through hating Tommy. That’s why she does what she does.

#dream smp #niki nihachu #c!niki #c!niki analysis #dsmp #nihachu analysis #the syndicate #dsmp season 4 #dsmp season 3 #healing arc #wilbur revival #Niki’s secret city #orphic talks #in defence of c!niki

[pan-ic-at-the-homehome]

Ok so like hear me out Fundy biting the reader for no reason like yk how some people bite others theyre close to just because idk i just think its cute when they suddenly go ᶜʰᵒᵐᵖ on someones neck or shoulder or something and its not even sexual and yk Fundys a fox so hed probably have lil fangs and omg im down bad

Regarding the recent news, should I keep writing C!Techno as a romantic interest? I don't want to be disrespectful, but Techno content is basically what this blog runs on at this point and I have so many drafts for him, and I also just want to keep his memory alive as much as possible. I definitely won't be writing any smut for him even though all I write is the character but I'm not sure if I should keep on with romance stuff. Please let me know what you guys think.

May the madlad rest in peace.

I wrote the majority of this quite a while ago but only just recently felt the motivation to occupy my mind and start writing again. This was originally going to include a bit of nsfw but it felt weird including that with the stuff listed above. I might make another part with the nsfw if this gets enough love. Enjoy :]

Fundy Bites His S/O

-Ok so I did some research and apparently foxes don't actually have fangs???? It's actually just their canine teeth that get mistaken for fangs a lot??? -But they still have sharp teeth so I'm gonna say that Fundy has fang-like teeth in the area of fangs boom problem solved

-He's probably insecure about his teeth, specifically his fangs -I imagine he does that cute thing where he covers his mouth with his hand when he smiles or laughs -So being able to see his teeth in general shows just how comfortable he is with you -Imagine the comfort level he's at when he willingly gives you a love bite

-Oneshot-

It's never a surprise when Fundy comes home tired and ready to pass out in your arms. Whether it be a run-in with his father, people overworking him, him overworking himself, or just being tired, you had grown to be ready to cuddle him soon as he got home. Even if he wasn't super tired, it's nice to cuddle with your lover so he never complains too much.

Today was one of the bad days for Fundy. Soon as he walked into the house you could tell. Ears down, tail practically tucked between his legs, eyes watery and ready to spill at any moment.

As much as you loved cuddling with him, you always hoped he'd come in lively and excited. You could handle going without cuddles if it meant he was happy, but the poor boy was anything but that at the moment and was in dire need of comfort.

You speed walked over to him as quickly as possible, gently putting a hand on his back and guiding him to your shared bedroom. You pulled a blanket aside just enough to fit the two of you and gently bring him to a laying position facing you and you wrap your arms around him.

You run a hand through his hair, "Do you want to talk about it baby?"

He lets out a soft whimper but nods his head nonetheless.

"Work?" He shakes his head. "A person in specific?" He hums. "Schlatt?" "no..." "Tubbo? Tommy?"

"Wilbur?" He whimpers again, the indication that you needed.

It was always awful when he bumped into Wilbur in one of his moods. Your words didn't have as much of an affect as Wilbur's words did no matter how much more true they were. All you could to was repeat constant validations and play with his hair until he fell asleep and he woke up in a better mindset.

He nuzzled into your neck, sighing in content as his tears seemed to calm down for the moment.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you want to watch a movie? I can help out with work if you w- Ow!" Fundy immediately recoiled as soon as the exclamation left you mouth, "Sorry!" The guilty look on his flushed face wasn't one you could possibly be upset at though.

You chuckled, "If you wanted me to shut up you could have just asked, but I'm not complaining. It didn't hurt, it was just surprising" You pull him back against your body and his ears perk up a bit. He bites down onto your shoulder again. Surprisingly there was very little pain as he tried to not break skin.

"You're so cute Fundy, you really deserve the world." You sigh out as you continue playing with his hair, his tail starting to wag softly.

He probably was too nervous until that day to bite you because from that day on, no matter his mood, he always tried to sneak up on you and bite your shoulder. In fact, catching you off guard usually brightened his mood so you couldn't be mad about it.

And every morning if he was awake before he thought you were awake he would bite your shoulder in an attempt to gently wake you up.

God you hated his father for what he's done, but man did he contribute into an amazing part of your relationship.

#fundy x you #fundy x y/n #fundy x reader #fundy dsmp #dsmp x reader #dsmp x y/n #dsmp fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #technoblade

[unhonest-iago]

c slimecicle x reader but it’s whatever you can come up with >_< he’s always on my mind i love him so muc

Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me

Gn reader

Y/n was an enderdragon hybrid, a species thought to have been hunted into extinction. The only tell tale signs of y/n being as such was the purple scales around their eyes, the small dragon wings and tail. That and whenever they burped, sneezed or coughed, they tended to let out puffs of fire. Y/n lived a nomad's life, never staying in one play for too long. Never really trusting anyone either but they'd heard of a new place called Las Nevadas which was said to be a safe haven for hybrids. Most to all of its staff being some sort of hybrid. Despite this, they couldn't help but be wary as sometimes hunters would promise safe shelter as a lure. Curiosity getting the better of them, they packed a rucksack with their small amount of belongings, hiding their appearance with a oversized cape.

'Welcome to Las Nevadas y/n from nowhere.' Confused they turned to the slime hybrid, 'Sorry, that's just Charlie being Charlie, I'm Quackity and I'm guessing you're here for lodgings.' The duck hybrid introduced himself alongside the hybrid y/n now knew as Charlie, holding out a hand to shake. Noticing how they rocked on their feet, similar to Fundy when Quackity first found him. Tentatively pulling back their hood, 'Nice to meet you both, name's y/n. Hope you don't mind an enderdragon hybrid.' Y/n simply being tired of running, figured it'd be best to get it out of the way. Silently willing them to kill them quickly if they were hunters and this was just a ruse, surprised when that didn't happen.

'Well if you haven't heard yet, we welcome all hybrids here. Now let's get you settled in.' Charlie leading them to a random empty room in the hotel. Y/n ended up staying for a lot longer than they expected, sticking close to Charlie the whole time as he was the first person they met. 'Hey Char?'

'Yes, y/n from Las Nevadas?' Knowing they'd come to call the place home, how they no longer felt like they had to hide who they are. Remembering how many times y/n's wings got sunburned, having experienced the most sun and free air they had in years. Their scales acting as freckles. 'Why have you been so kind to me?' Not that y/n thought Quackity or any of the other hybrids were rude. It's just they greeted people and then went on with their lives, but not Charlie. 'I don't know, I think it was because I remembered being scared out of my wits the first time I came here and I guess I recognized you felt similarly.'

As they sat there watching the sun go down, Charlie thought that y/n was beautiful since they first arrived and that it grew as they spent more time in the place they now call home. A nomad no more.

#iago writes #x reader #chuckle sandwich x reader #chuckle sandwich #charlie slimecicle x reader #mcyt slimecicle #dsmp slimecicle #x gn reader #gn reader #hybrid!reader

[anonymous-dentist]

c!dream doesn’t go after c!quackity. 

not immediately. 

first, observation. who does quackity hold dear to him? once upon a time, dream would’ve said it was karl and sapnap (and sapnap...) but now? now? dream doesn’t know. boner the horse? no, wilbur got to that first, didn’t he? (dream doesn’t know. he was kind of in prison at the time.) wilbur himself? ...no. quackity’s so-called employees despise him at best, are dead at worst. (L + Ratio + Dream’s Followers And Friends Are All Still Alive)

so... las nevadas. it wouldn’t be the first time that dream has destroyed a country. it’s basically a hobby at this point. but is it really a country if it’s home to one sad little man and enough ghosts to fill a cemetery, both living and dead? 

there is no military, no guard. what they had left and doesn’t seem keen on coming back, not for any amount of money in the world. foolish is disillusioned. sam can’t bring himself to look his own reflection in the eyes. fundy is gone. quackity is alone. no sapnap to protect him this time, no backup. no pickax (dream shivers in his sleep as the pick drives itself between his ribs again and again and again and again-) no sam no nothing. 

quackity is alone, and he knows it. 

so... las nevadas. 

las nevadas is a city built on promises and lies. the amount of love that has been clearly poured into a glorified sand castle is enough to rot dream’s teeth (it isn’t fair.) promises of protection. of glory. of power in a dying world, one last shaking breath before the end of it all. the foundations are solid, but the soil they have been built on is cracked and unsound. power? what power? love? what love? that’s the biggest lie of all, the love. and still the only one to still believe the lies being told is the liar himself, stood at the top of the space needle one step away from walking off and doing dream’s job for him. 

(dream watches him, and he waits, just in case. it would be so much easier if he would just fucking die already. it would be more satisfying to tear quackity’s gold-capped teeth out of his mouth himself, but gravity can do what a hundred men cannot.) 

so... las nevadas. 

quackity has been a thorn in dream’s side for so long. the elections, stealing george. keeping manberg alive when it should have been long dead. protecting l’manberg. el rapids, stealing sapnap. stealing george and sapnap. dream has one friend and he is punz, and he has a multitude of pathetic little scared little bitches that follow him around like ducklings and cower in his shadow, but quackity had friends. has friends, somehow, despite everything. he has that weird green guy, the absent one. he has tommy. he has tommy. even alone at the end of the world, quackity has tommy, and dream reckons that the one thing keeping quackity from jumping is the thought of someone he doesn’t trust planning his funeral. 

so... las nevadas. 

there’s a wedding chapel. sometimes dream goes there when he tries to find quackity just as an afterthought. when sapnap haunts the prison scraping his ax along the stone floors and kicking up sparks, dream can hear him rambling. he’s alone. karl is alone. quackity is alone. they were supposed to get married. quackity’s presence is all over the chapel. it’s disgusting. he left his jacket there before disappearing yet again. dream can pick it up and look inside the pocket and pull out a photo of quackity standing in front of the el rapids sign with the other traitors and terrorists and dream can crumple the photo up and toss it under his flint and steel and kick the ashes over with sand. (dream and sapnap made an agreement when they were kids that they would be the best men at each other’s weddings, oh, they sure fucking did that.)

so. las nevadas. 

quackity hasn’t been around for a long, long time. dream bets that he’s sitting underground crying into a pillow about how the world hates him now that he’s become the monster that dream has been calling him from the very beginning. he’s cowering in his little boots, the bastard. 

that’s fine. 

dream can wait. 

#c!quackity #c!dream #he's so funny so cool so quirky he's not like other girls #don't pretend i understand lore btw i like fucking around that's all #dream is so fascinating though #he's a horrible man a terrible terrible man #but he's also? idk man #he says he's a god but he's just a scared little human with significant anger and control issues #someone sedate him

[mcyt-peach]

that’s great! I’m the person who asked if u wrote for c!quackity :)

do u think u could write headcanons and/or a small dialogue section of c!quackity falling in love with the reader after his breakup with c!sapnap and c!karl?

(bonus points if the reader is dream’s little sister who’s a cute lamb and very king :0)

c!quackity falling in love with dream's lamb!sister

⋆｡˚ summary: Quackity never thought he'd open up again after the loves of his lives left, but here you come, proving him wrong

⋆｡˚ pairing: c!quackity x fem!reader

⋆｡˚ warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns, mentions of abandonment

⋆｡˚ note: returning to my roots with a c!quackity piece I hope you enjoyed this piece b/c it was so fluffy <3

maybe creating a whole nation based on the intense need to feel control after a bad breakup was a bit dramatic, but Quackity always lived by the “go big or go home” rule

Las Nevadas had become home to an odd crew, a fox with daddy issues, a god... shark... person? and an alien with a penchant for mercenary work

which is why you’re such a breath of fresh air when you wander your way into town

for the first time since his fiancés ran off, Quackity feels that squeeze in his heart at your kind smile

you don’t belong here, if the ears on top of your head are any indication, a lamb hybrid like yourself belongs in some meadow somewhere, not this desert paradise for the disturbed

but here you were all the same, prancing along the streets and peering in at the shiny displays

he tried to stay away, he’ll swear it up and down, but there was something about you that drew Quackity in, despite his better judgement

but when you plop down at the counter when he’s on bar duty, he doesn’t have much of a choice but to talk to you (at least that’s the excuse he gives)

you tell him your life story over an extra sweet shirley temple, how your brother, who remains unnamed, kept you stuck in a faux meadow your whole life, afraid you’d be targeted

“Targeted? Why would anyone try and hurt such a sweet thing like you.” you blush at his words, because of course you do, and turn your eyes away from him

“Well, he said it was because of these,” your finger points to your hybrid features, “but I think he was just a bad person.”

your lip quivers at the thought and Quackity desperately wants to do whatever he can to get your smile back

he knows what you won’t say, your brother’s actions being too obvious to look past, but something about the way you smile shyly into your drink wipes away every thought that you could be working for Dream

“Tell you what, you stay here and I’ll make sure your brother doesn’t come looking for you, yeah?”

your shining eyes are enough to give him a heart attack and with that, you’ve become a resident of Las Nevadas

it should be obvious, but you get along with everyone perfectly, you share Charlie and Foolish’s sense of compassion and Fundy and Purpled help teach you to be proud of your hybrid side

but it’s Quackity you stick by most, after learning of his past on one of your many nightly chats

your heart breaks at the betrayal he went through and you make a silent promise to never make him worry that you’ll leave

not that you’d ever want to, with the way he picks you up from your shifts and walks you home, which soon becomes his home as well

you’ve fit yourself into his family and he finally, finally stops feeling alone

#mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt headcanon #mcyt headcanons #mcyt fluff #dsmp x you #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x reader #dsmp fluff #dsmp headcanons #dsmp headcanon #dream smp x you #dream smp x y/n #dream smp x reader #dream smp headcanon #dream smp headcanons #dream smp headcannon #dream smp fluff #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #quackity x reader #quackity headcanons #quackity fluff

[faebriel]

thoughts on c!rocketduo?

i like em a lot!! they're the perfect mix of tragic melodramatic and silly

something i find really interesting about them is that they both kind of started from the same place (l'manberg, as the peacetime entries) and yet they weren't super close during that time of peace. i mean everyone was friends (and i might be remembering wrong) but i always think of niki's social circle being more centred around fundy and eret and wilbur, while jack spends more time with tommy and tubbo. it's not until the shit hits the fan that they really click with each other. not quite the same until they start burning the same way! insert that softer place quote about how you have some friends on good days and some friends on the Really Bad Days. you need both

and i like that they have this kind of testy relationship where they have that shared history but they still don't quite trust each other, even when both of them hold the keys to secrets that could ruin the other. they're both at their fucking worst but they can't quite lower their defenses enough to find comfort in each other. and........ they never do. they never quite get each other. niki gets out of that hole, but jack doesn't come with her. after all they planned together, after the hole they kept fucking digging together, wouldn't that be like having a piece of you missing? and what of jack, who sits in the hole drinking himself to a lonely death? so what if niki is in the snow now, while he's still burning? WOOO we love tense allyship and friendship (?) and resentment

this is all entirely Incidental Aspects Of Improvised Storytelling but i think their wildly diverging relationships with death on the server are really really interesting as well. like niki survived her entire story with her three lives intact, whereas jack died thrice and dragged himself back from hell... especially with their partnership really taking flight after doomsday, after jack's third death and self-imposed resurrection. and then, niki is the one who ends up saved and safe in her nether home while jack burns in the centre of the server's fiery death. that is fucking tragic. and entirely accidental. but so compelling

i would love to write them more. one day, c!jack manifold, i will be funny enough to write you accurately

#thanks anon!! :D this was a busy week so sorry for the answer delay but i do love a chance to ramble and chat :] #feel free to share ur thoughts in the inbox and such. rocketduo hot take week or what have u #asks

[tjodity]

Didn't realize that until today lol! Thanks @10piecechickenmcnugget

🏳️‍🌈 A sexuality headcanon

I headcanon Niki as pan! I think Puffy was her only attempt at an actual relationship, but I think she occasionally had ambiguous feelings for c!Wil (both of them wanted to just stay friends though, and then things kind of went to shit anyways.) I think she has a fem lean and would probably crush on some of the gladiator/sports women from things like Bedwars or Hunger games when she was younger!

🎶 A headcanon about music

I don't think Niki would make much music on her own, not at the start. She wrote a few pieces to play on his guitar. They were short, repetitive, and upbeat, typically using a lot of patterns of notes overlapped. Tommy would occasionally get her to sing with him, but it made her somewhat embarrassed. After Wilbur's death hearing almost any music filled her with grief as she mostly associated it with him. Technoblade stored away his violin after she joined the Syndicate. It wasn't until she somewhat came to terms with Wilbur that she felt okay with it again. Deep in the end, she carved herself a flute out of flamed chorus tissue and taught herself how to play it. It helped her get through long journeys in the empty void and reminded her of home.

🔪 A headcanon relating to fighting/violence

Niki was never exactly a pacifist, but due to her joining after the war of independence she didn't have any formal training with weapons for a while, being most comfortable with her fists and non direct tactics such as vandalism. Once she joined the Syndicate Technoblade began mentoring her in fighting, with some of his style passing onto her, such as automatically going for killing/maiming blows, using an axe instead of a sword, and employing withers when in a large fight. There are several differences, however. She packs much less than him, preferring to stick to only a few very reliable weapons and armor. Her axe is enchanted with Lure and Sharpness, essentially dragging anyone within the near proximity towards the blade, whose edge will slice even through something like metal or stone. Her crossbow is enchanted with Multishot and Punch, knocking back anyone in front of her several feet. Her gauntlets are enchanted with fire aspecte, which I think explains itself (no handshakes while she's suited up). The rest of her armor is enchanted with Mending and Unbreaking, which are both to keep it intact as long as possible, while being enchanted with Fire Protection, Blast Protection, and Soul Speed for assistance in handling Withers (due to the soul speed her armor is basically powered by the souls of the damned while the Wither powers up.)

😶 A random headcanon!

Niki was L'manberg's dyer! (there has to be a better word for that) All of the original uniforms were dyed by Wilbur (besides Fundy's) but after Niki joined she dyed her own and began coloring the flags Tommy sewed! This hc comes mostly from the fact that anyone who is dying their hair that much in a place that is essentially the middle of the woods clearly knows how to make pigments and effectively dye things!

#nihachu #howdyfolks' headcanons #howdywrites

[alliluyevas]

one thing I keep finding in my polygamist-family-photos-hunting that intrigues me is that photographs of men with a large number of their daughters seem to actually be significantly more common than photos of men with their sons. In general, group photos of daughters (with or without parental accompaniment) seem to be more common than group photos of sons. example photos of what I’m talking about, in chronological order:

George A. Smith and four of his daughters, 1860s.

Hiram Clawson and daughters, c. 1880.

Joseph F. Smith and his oldest daughters, early 1890s. (Note: this is also a real girls-who-look-like-their-dads collective, isn’t it?)

Thomas Chamberlain and daughters, c. 1910. (Them all being lined up in height order reminds me of a more extreme version of those instagram fundie-lite mommybloggers who line their kids up in age order like stepstones. The more things change, I guess.)

For most of these families, I can’t find equivalent photographs featuring multiple sons. (The Clawsons are the only exception, there’s a photo taken around the same time of Hiram with several of his oldest sons, though the age range is not as wide as in the picture of the sisters. For the other families, there are family pictures with mixed-gender siblings and pictures with only girls, but none with only boys.)

I also noticed this when I was compiling photos of Brigham Young’s children: there are several photos of groups of daughters, both as adolescents and adults, but none to my knowledge that are only of sons. None of these photos include their father, so it’s a bit different from the above examples, but for reference:

First picture is 1860s, second is 1890s.

I have some thoughts about why this might be, especially because several of the pictures feature only adolescent daughters, so the pictures might have been sort of a coming-of-age commemoration. More pictures might have been taken of only girls because physical appearance and dress was considered more important for them than for their brothers. Also, in terms of adult daughters seemingly being more likely to pose for group photographs--these are all wealthy families where grown married daughters may have had more free time to get photographs taken compared to their brothers who were employed outside the home, women’s social circles may have been more limited to family members, and they also might have been more likely to still live close to their parents, enabling them to return home for photos like the one of Thomas Chamberlain and all of his daughters.

#mormonposting tag #i dont wanna be like they took pictures of teenage mormon sisters in groups bc they were preparing to basically #put them on the courting market but...maybe so

[forksandchaos]

An Introduction...

There is a statue that has fallen to golden ingots and a glitched out, half-empty server which Drista stands in.

A server reset that would fix it all. She would forfeit her memory, lost to the other Gods whose memories may have persevered, and she would rewrite her story.

Things could be right again. She focuses all of her energy, and she resets.

connected to @drista-the-parity-goddess , a continuation of her story (though knowledge of the previous blog is not needed to understand this blog)

Where am I? Who am I?

This is a c!Drista-centered roleplay blog run by @theghosttownn member Philippa. It is connected to the 'resetverse', in which stray blogs come together under a server reset to make a reset server of their own! With the server reset being done by a chaos goddess, some blogs/characters have complete memories of their lives before, some have no memory of anything which happened before, and some are... spotty.

Note: The mods of this blog understand & recognize that Drista in this universe is a character filling the role of a Chaos Goddess. We do not claim to be Drista nor is this RPF.

Who do I know?

The Mortals

Tommyinnit - @waxwingedboy

Tag: still turning out [tommy]

Tubbo - @tubbos

Tag: pro tools and a mic and a big idea [tubbo]

Ranboo - @ranboounderscorebeloved

Tag: the truth is that i'm screwed [ranboo]

Fundy - @foxsized , @little-champion

Tag: i like vintage dresses [fundy]

Nihachu - @phoenixchick

Tag: you just bleed you and i'll stay with you [nihachu]

Captain Puffy - @papa-puffy

Tag: can we do christmas in june? [puffy]

Technoblade - @rusted-blade

Tag: you cannot rush what can't be timed [technoblade]

Wilbur - @sootsunrise

Tag: i hope i made you smile (that's all i ever wanted) [wilbur]

Quackity - @fowlblackjack

Tag: and if you're just as hopeless i wish you well [quackity]

Phil - @eternalelytra

Tag: just a skyline and a view [philza]

The Pantheon

Dream XD - @areyouawakexd

Tag: fit the whole song in three-thirty [dream xd]

Callahan - @silenthooves

Tag: i wanna go home [callahan]

Kristin (Lady Death) - @hergoddessofdeath

Tag: don't give a damn if i'm bleeding out [death]

Nemesis (Lady Revenge) - @nemesis-goddess-of-revenge

Tag: when did all our problems get so small? [nemesis]

Zone (of Music) - @musiczonewilbur

Tag: our song plays in the produce aisle [zone]

What resources do I have?

- @drista-the-parity-goddess has all past interactions which drista has had! she has no memory presently of any of this, but if memories do restore, it will be explained in the roleplay threads what exactly their history is (with links to the posts they have historical connections to.)

- lore doc coming soon!

- playlist coming soon!

#drista #dream smp #roleplay #rpverse #resetverse

[fundieshaderoom]

Fundie Families and Adjacents I Follow: Baird

Michael William Baird- 1961

Heidi Marie Mick- 1959

They married on December 18, 1982. They share 8 living children, 6 children-in-law, and 9 grandchildren.

1- Michael William Jr.- February 16, 1984

2- Kristen Marie- January 7, 1987

3- Bethany Lynn- September 13, 1988

4- Stephen Hans- October 11, 1990

5- Ellissa Mershon- August 20, 1992

6- Timothy David- October 30, 1996

7- Rebekah Hannah- June 16, 1999

8- Suzanna Faith- August 4, 2002

9- Matthew Paul- July 25, 2005, d. July 25, 2005

Michael married Jamie Humpal. They share 3 daughters. Michael has come out against his parents and how they raised him.

1- Girl

2- Girl

3- Girl

Kristen married Zachary M Clark "Zach" (May 3, 1988) on June 18, 2011. They were both 23. They struggled with infertility for years and adopted their two sons.

1- Caleb- May 2010, adopted in 2021

2 miscarriages- 2013

2- Christian- May 2014, adopted in 2021

miscarriage- 2019

Bethany married David Jonathan Beal Sr. "Dav" (March 29, 1994) on October 14, 2018, at ages 30 and 24. They share 2 children.

1- David Jonathan Jr. "Davey"- February 15, 2020

2- Audrey Lynn- December 23, 2022

Ellissa married Andrii Petrenko (October 23) on January 9, 2021. They live in Andrii's home country Ukraine. The share a daughter and a son on the way.

1- Emiliya Heidi Andriyivna- March 19, 2022

2- Iliya Andrii- August 2, 2023

Tim married Laura Elizabeth Cornelius (July 8, 1999) on April 24, 2020, at ages 23 and 21.

Rebekah married Daniel C Gill (October 18, 1999) on August 7, 2022, at ages 23 and 22.

#families #Baird Family

[totallynotbat]

Special thanks to @otomiya-tickles for the Tickly Alphabet game, decided to do this:

Philza 

A: Aftercare | What is their aftercare like after a heavy round of tickling?:)

Appreciates it, if it’s Kristen it would be a hug and kiss session. Or some light chirps.

SBI? Attempting to calm himself down, with small curses slipping out.

C: Chase | What are their chances in a chase, both as a lee and ler?

Lee- 50|50, Kristen could easily grab him. 

Ler- 100 percent can catch someone.

D: Death Spot | What is their most ticklish spot?

Wings, where his wings meet his back can turn him into his avian form (Like Origin SMP)

E: Expression | How do they express their wish to tickle/be tickled?

To tickle - Smirking or teases

Be tickled - Fluster but not easy.

F: Fight | What is their behavior in a tickle fight like?

Tackles, or glomps will use his wings 

If his ler gets revenge, he’ll attempt to escape but fail really easily

G: Gentle | How do they react to gentle tickles?

Chirps and tweets in between light giggles but attempts to muffle it, it’s fucking adorable! 

H: Habits | As a lee/ler or both, do they have specific habits when it comes to tickling?

Lee - 

Wings flapping

small hiccups Hiccupza!

squeaks! Fucking Cute!

attempting to cover his mouth or bite his tounge, don’t let him! going for his ribs or sides will break him. 

I: Interrogation | How well would they handle a tickle interrogation?

Fundy and Ranboo did it after Tubbo shot Phil with an arrow, leaving Phil with an injury on his upper shoulder. 

Phil actually appreciated it, it helped cheer him up after awhile. Granted Fundy and Ranboo did go light on him but they took him home quickly before Tubbo found out, he never did.

J: Joy | Their absolute favorite thing about tickling?

Making his friends laugh. 

K: Killer Move | As a ler, do they have special skills to use against their lees and drive them crazy with?

Use his wings. There hell for his lees! 

L: Laughter | What does their laughter sound like when they are tickled?

Loud, loud enough to bounce off the walls, Kristen likes it!

Q: Question | Their response to the question ‘are you ticklish’?

“Tommy blinked. “Are you ticklish Dad?”

Phil placed his face into his hands, a blush appearing on his cheeks, groaning.” - Family of Wings 

Not easily flustered but can respond, give him time.

R: Role | Lee or ler, what is generally their main role?

T: Teasing | Their most favorite methods of teasing their lee/ler?

He can’t take them, he’ll get flustered.

But he does say you are one to talk to their ler.

W: Word | What is their reaction to the T-word? Can they say it out loud or do they get embarrassed?

He can say it. Sometimes.

#mcyt tickle #lee!philza #ler!philza #dsmp tickle