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ze-maki-nin · 2 years

Note

ooo what about wilbur comparing hand sizes with a girl as a way to flirt! i think it'd be a cute drabble!

Pairing: CC!Wilbur x Gn/F?!Reader

A/n: Hope you like it ^^

Event

Wilbur let out a little giggle, his hand resting on yours as he looked at them in aww.

“You’re hands are so small~” He cooed, fingers fitting into the spaces between yours before pulling you closer to him.

“So small and adorable~“

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sioster · 1 year

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

The titan observed, and saw.

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

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

The immortal flexed his emaciated fingers.

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

The half god breathed.

His name was Dream.

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oldflyingraven · 2 years

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I’ve woken up alone so many times

The first time she dies is during the ritual of ascension. It’s not by her own choice. She was always fine being a mortal. But there she is, tied down on a pedestal while the masked figure stabs the sword laced with poison into her chest. Its agony like she’s never felt before. It steals away her voice. She dies in a puff of smoke and to the sound of low humming.

She wakes up a demigod. Surrounded by dead people crumbled on the floor. Withered away by her power. Alone. Not a single soul alive in the room. Not a single soul alive in the realm. Except for her.

The first time she dies as a demigod leaves her frozen in bed for days. Choked by the memories of her ascension she so desperately tries to forget. Killed by a fearful mortal who’d recognised her for what she is. They left her to bleed out on the floor. She died alone and she wakes up alone.

Dying stays horrible for her. She forgets how many times it happens. Loses count when she’s around 50 years chronologically. A part of her hates how she doesn’t look a day older than the day she ascended.

The first time she dies while knowing Totem she wakes up alone again. But for once she doesn’t stay alone. Her demigod friend shows up only seconds after she opens her eyes. He looks so calm, so casual. “Took you a while to respawn. I was worried about you.” he says.

She opens her mouth to respond but only sobs come out. The paralysing fear clutching her chest once again.

Totem’s face falls, and he quickly sits next to her and wraps his arm around her. “Hey! It’s okay! You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m here.” he says. It’s clear he didn’t expect this response.

“Don’t leave me alone!” she sobs, clutching onto her friend. “Please-”

They sit there for what feels like hours. It very well could be hours. Finally the tears dry up. It’s the quickest she’s ever calmed down after a death. It surprises her. “I’m sorry.” she says quietly.

Totem runs a hand through her hair. “No need to apologise. I-” he pauses, weighing his words carefully. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through if a simple death causes this.” he ends up saying.

“I didn’t chose this. Becoming a demigod. My first death was when I ascended.” Eret says quietly. “I woke up alone surrounded by death.”

She feels Totem’s gasp more than she hears it. He squeezes her tighter. “You won’t wake up alone anymore. I’ll make sure of that.”

She finds it hard to believe, but the post respawn exhaustion and brain fog makes her nod anyway. “Promise?” she asks anyway.

“Promise.”

If you enjoyed this you can check out my bigger Eret AU on ao3! It’s called The Path to Redemption and it’s an alternate take on Eret’s redemption and his possible backstory!

#Dream smp #Dream smp fanfic #dream smp ficlet #dream smp drabble #Eret #The Eret #Foolish #FoolishGamers #eternalduo #dream smp headcanons #dream smp headcannon #dream smp fanfiction #The Path to Redemption #flyingraven oc #dream smp au

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basilly · 2 years

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candids || mcyts x reader

summary: pictures the dsmp have taken of you two :)

includes: dream, george, sapnap, karl, quackity, & wilbur

gender: fem presenting

dream: "you look so good in my sweater :)"

sapnap: "dream caught me distracted"

george: "sapnap was following us on our walk."

wilbur: "unfortunately i can't be mad at tommy for taking this"

karl: "fine dining with my fine lady"

quackity: "we were tired, okay?"

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stardustluvs · 7 months

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Exhibitionism - Dream X Reader

MDNI || KINKTOBER

Word Count: 890

Pairing: Dream x fem!Reader

Summary: You and the dteam go out to eat, Dream has other plans.

Warnings: NSFW, Semi-Public Sex, Dream referred to as Clay, Sapnap referred to as Nick

Author's Note: Hope you're enjoying! Public sex and Dream just make sense, right?

Requests are open! || masterlist || kinktober m.list

You weren't quite sure when it had started, but at some point today, your boyfriend had gotten so touchy. The two of you had decided to go out with friends, Sapnap and George, to get food.

You decided on going to your favorite restaurant so you could eat in instead of just going for takeout somewhere.

It was even to the point where Clay pushed for Nick to drive the group there just so he could sit in the backseat with you.

The entire drive there he had his hand on you in some way. That could meant it was either holding yours or it was on your thigh, or just somewhere in close vicinity to you.

When your group finally got to the restaurant, you were all seated together in the corner of the restaurant, Clay insisting on sitting beside you with George and Sapnap on the other side of the table. You smiled as he took the outside of the table, resting his hand on your thigh again.

You didn't think too much of it, getting used to his sudden touchiness. That was until he started sliding his hand up closer to you, causing you to shift a little in your seat.

Was he being serious? Here, and now?

It honestly was more of a turn on than you would have wanted to admit.

His hand met your clothed area, rubbing his fingers against you.

It took everything in you to not push up against his hand as you continued to talk with your friends, trying to act as though everything was normal.

Of course Clay was the type to get off on wanting to get caught.

You bit down on your lip softly, hoping it was subtle enough to not raise any questions. You moved your foot over to Clay's rubbing it against his leg. Mostly as a warning, but he just smirked to himself and pressed his hand against you more roughly.

"I have to go to the restroom," You said suddenly, cutting George off from a story he had been telling. The two men in front of you seemed to nod as they let you get up, Clay silently agreeing he would follow you, to also use the restroom.

You were about to object but then as soon as the coast seemed clear, he dragged you into the family restroom.

"What are you doing?" You asked him as he pushed you against the door after it shut.

"What do you mean?" He asked, playing stupid.

"Babe, you know what I mean," You said under your breath as his lips met your neck, starting to nip at the skin gently.

He laughed softly against your neck.

"We could get caught," You objected.

"Then you better just stay quiet. Wouldn't want George or Nick to figure out our little secret, hm? Or maybe you'd like them to know that as you guys speak, you're falling apart inside over my fingers," He teased.

You left out a soft whine. Fuck, maybe he was right. Maybe it was hot.

"We should head back to the table, hm? And remember, don't get us caught," He said, backing away from you to allow you both to leave.

By the time you both were back at the table, your food had arrived. Surely Clay would let you eat in peace, right?

Wrong.

His hand closest to you was at your inner thigh again, only this time, his hand slipped under the waistband of your pants and into your underwear. You felt as his middle finger met with your clit, starting to tease at the entrance, pushing his finger in and out slowly.

It was getting you so worked up, so quickly.

It took everything in you to not allow any noises to slip from your throat, trying your best to focus on eating as your boyfriend began to finger you right in the middle of the restaurant, especially in front of his best friends.

It only became worse when Sapnap had tried starting a new conversation with you directly.

He asked for your opinion on something that you didn't even really take the time to pay attention to, and when you only responded with mostly confusion, Clay interrupted.

"Oh, come on now, you know what he's talking about," He said as though his fingers weren't buried inside of you right now.

His fingers seemed to go deeper as you apologized softly to Nick for ignoring his question.

"Sorry, I'm just not feeling well," You lied.

"What's the matter, baby?" Clay asked you, playing innocent.

You glared at him slightly.

"Nothing, think I jus' need to lay down for a while I think," You answered, your speech slurring together just a bit, starting to get lost in your pleasure.

His fingers curled inside of you slightly, fucking them into you as hard as he could without being noticeable.

You closed your eyes for a moment, praying to God that nobody would question you. your breath caught slightly, Clay's fingers finally hitting that spot deep inside of you, causing your orgasm.

You came all over his fingers, trying to stop your hips from jerking into his hand..

It took you a moment to calm down again once he pulled his hand from your pants.

You couldn't wait to repay him once you got home.

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt x reader #dream smp #x reader #smut #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken #dream smut #dwt x reader #dwt smut #dwt x reader smut #dsmp smut #mcyt smut #kinktober #drabble #x reader smut

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elmhat · 5 months

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// dsmp rp

How to make a hell into a home:

Secure the perimeter. Seal off old exits and conceal the new ones. No one should see you enter or leave, but that's not a problem if you never leave.

Evict the current resident. It's a transaction: an eye for an eye, an eye for a year. A year for a fortress. You've won the trade. He won't talk.

Don't go back to your old room. It's empty now, but sometimes it doesn't feel that way.

Ignore the mining fatigue. It's easy to get used to it again, given time. To encourage this endurance, never travel more than ten minutes outside the bounds of its effects. Endurance builds strength.

Look elsewhere for food. Potatoes are inefficient; try golden apples instead. Magic is a valuable substitute for nutrition.

Dispose of the gifts that get left by the front door. They seem to be coming from the mansion nearby, little baskets of breads and cheeses and bandages. It could be poisoned. Throw it into the sea, and make sure he sees you doing it.

Don't go back to your old room.

Decorate. A bed, some chests, armor. Weapons. No need to remove the stalactites; most of the building is redundant. Plants look nice.

Did you ever leave your old room?

Quackity, Las Nevadas, Purpled, Quackity. George. Quackity, Quackity, Quackity.

Get out. (Quackity.)

Fail.

Run.

Don't leave. Quackity will see if you leave. Quackity will come. Everything you need is in here; it will become your world. The outside isn't dangerous if there is no outside.

Go back to your old room. You think you've always known that it's where you have to die.

#this Totally isn't inspired by my current fic or anything #dreblr #c!dream #pandora's vault #dream smp #lore thoughts #drabbles #my writing #elm fics

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lookinghalfacorpse · 1 year

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pushing my agenda of c!dream’s chat as butterflies

-fully clad in netherite armor, stalking forward with long proud strides and his chin up. dream is almost completely covered from head to toe, a mask on his face and his hood up. trailing close behind him is a fluttering cloud of butterflies. one has landed on his shoulder, another on his wrist. one will fly off the blade of his axe as soon as he raises it. he’s so used to them he doesn’t seem to notice.

-they gather when he sleeps, perching around his bed and resting on him. flying above his face, riding on his gentle breaths. george used to watch them, wondering how their little feet didn’t wake him.

-when they’re upset with him, they ram their delicate bodies against his mask. the constant tink tink tink is distracting, and once or twice it actually did direct his attention away from whatever nonsense he was trying to pull. “i know, i know,” he’ll tell them, “i can’t see when you do that, c’mon.”

-sam found one in the prison lobby once. he’s not sure how they keep finding their way inside. quackity will tear its wings off if he sees it.

-they land on techno’s arms, grasping the fur on his forearms. he talks to them in a low voice, the way he talks to all the other animals.

-a hoard of butterflies on his shoulders as he limps through the forest, holding onto the thin and near-ruined prison uniform. their wings flap in intervals, as though trying to keep him upright. if he collapses, they ram his face until he wakes.

-quackity sees a beautiful, shimmering, blue butterfly resting against the facade of the casino. it’s alone, which is odd-- usually there’s a whole kaleidoscope of them when he’s nearby. maybe he’s trying to be discreet. quackity crushes it under his thumb, slowly and deliberately. if he’s being watched, he doesn’t want to look afraid.

-a purple one lands on sam’s finger as he’s jotting down notes for a new machine. he watches it, stretching and shifting the digit below it to watch how it moves with him. there’s an empty cup on the desk beside him-- he thinks about trapping it underneath.

-(he does, and he keeps it there for a while. it flutters around inside the glass and its wings catch the light-- it’s distractingly pretty. he releases it outside.)

-a purple butterfly returns back to dream and lands on the tip of his nose. jokingly, he scolds it for taking so long. he isn’t surprised that the blue one hasn’t come back, but he knew this one might.

#:)#cdream #c!dream #i might have more to say on this but idk how honestly lol #drabbles #headcanons #dreblr #i'm taking scrapped lore as canon btw if that helps this make sense #dsmp #dream smp #killing butterflies

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rachelsquill · 9 months

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His Gay Ass is NOT Stargazing!!!

Quackity and Wilbur stood atop the Las Nevadas Needle. Quackity was gazing at the beautiful night sky above them, but Wilbur’s gaze wandered elsewhere.

He found himself observing the man beside him.

How long had it been since they put aside their petty squabbles and were at peace with one another? And what’s more is that for Wilbur that peace had developed into a sort of fondness, maybe even more than a fondness.

Wilbur’s heart tugged as he stared at the man next to him. His beanie that he never seemed to leave home without was crooked on his head. His long hair was darker than the night sky. His golden wings shone brighter than all the stars in the sky. The more he observed the man before him the more his heart ached. He sucked up his pride and rested his hand upon the shorter man’s hand, an invitation for more.

“Wilbur, have you ever danced with someone?” He asked, still gazing at the sky.

Memories flashed across Wilbur’s vision. He recalled dancing in L’manberg beside the fire with Niki, Tommy, and Fundy while Tubbo and Jack sang a song of freedom. He remembered a spark of joy amidst the sadness in Pogtopia when he and Tommy dragged Techno from his potato farm and danced to their heart's content. He thought in fondness about dancing on the beach in Logsteadshire with Tommy. He realized that dancing had always been a time when he felt alive.

“Wil?”

Wilbur snapped from his pleasant thoughts and looked at Quackity, who was gazing at him expectantly.

“Why? Are you offering me a dance?” He asked with a grin.

“Maybe I am…” He extended a hand out to Wilbur. “Only if you’ll have me.”

Wilbur takes the hand offered to him.

The dance is slow and sweet. Wilbur rests his head on Quackity’s shoulder letting him lead the dance.

Wilbur feels alive.

#tntduo #tntduo fic #wilbur soot #quackity #quackbur #dream smp #i don't know what to tag this #i don't typically write things but I wanted to share this lil drabble #also idk what to title it it kinda stemmed from the image in my pinned sooo #rachel writes #< new tag I guess

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athenastudios · 6 months

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Little blurbs i have abt dream!

Dream: "hey love, do you think my shirt collar smells different?"

Y/n: *goes to sniff his collar."

Dream: *kisses her forehead.*

*rizz music starts playing*

Y/n: "oh, amazing."

Dream: "Hows my baby doing?"

Y/n: "Good."

Dream: "Hmm. Now, hows the love of my life doing?" He cradles my stomach

Y/n:"Better."

Y/n: oh i have to go run errands for my mom, i have to go.*grabs jacket*

Y/n: im sorry we didnt get to hang out mu- *as she walks out*

Dream:*grabs her shoulder, trying to get his jacket on* wait for me

Dividers from @cafekitsune

#dsmp x reader #dsmp #dreamwastaken x reader #dsmp x reader imagines #dream x reader #dream smp #drabble #first post

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anon1nn1t · 1 year

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Hiii :) I am glad that you are confident in posting your work on tumblr and I hope that you are good and you deserve a lot of love, I heard that George talks in his sleep, can you please do a post about a whole fluffy convo you and George have while he is a sleep but you are wake. And can George wake up not knowing what he said in his sleep and the reader just laughing about it eventually telling George and they both cuddle back to sleep, ty. Make sure to eat and drink :)

This is such a cute request, omg. :O Also, thank you for being so kind; it means so much !! Thank you for the request as well, of course. <3 * Btw before you requested this, I had no clue someone could actually understand questions in their sleep. 😧 *

Please don’t be nervous to send a request !!

"Baby, are you awake?" you asked while turning over to face your boyfriend, George. "Mm," he mumbled out in his sleep. You, however, took this as a sign he was awake and wrapped your arms around him lazily, nuzzling into his chest. He squirmed slightly, fighting weakly to get away from your grasp. "What’s wrong?" you asked while removing your arms from his waist. He remained silent. "Are you mad at me?" you asked. Again, no response. You scoffed while turning away from him again, wondering why he was ignoring you when you hadn't done anything wrong.

"Y/n," he said groggily. You decided to act petty, ignoring him like just he had ignored you. He whined, and you decided to give him pity, turning around to face him again. "What is it? What did I do?" you asked sincerely. When you still got no answer, you realized something was up. This wasn't at all like George; you hardly fought, and when you did, he never ignored you like this.

That was when you remembered a conversation you had had with him before. You, him, Dream, and Sapnap were all on a call together when Dream told you George talks in his sleep. You laughed at his "joke," and he laughed back, so you just assumed he was trying to embarrass George for fun.

You decided to test if he was actually asleep by standing up. If he was truly awake, he would not let you get up without a fight. He would whine and pull you back down into bed, cuddling up against your back. He, however, didn’t move, and that’s how you knew he was still sleeping. You nuzzled back into his chest, realizing he meant no harm and probably didn’t even know what you were doing. But that was when he asked you a weird question…

"Hm, how are you?" he asked. You furrowed your eyebrows, giggling softly, now knowing that he was sleep talking. He snored quietly, and you had to try so hard to fight the urge to laugh. "I’m great, how are you?" you answered back jokingly. "M'good," he answered. "Baby?" you asked, confused. Could he understand you even though he was asleep?

"Pretty," he murmured. "What’s pretty?" you asked, confused as to what he was talking about since he was asleep. "Y/n," he responded. You formed a downward smile, your heart melting and your stomach filling with butterflies at the fact he still thought about you in his sleep. Not only did he think of you, but he was fully aware of the fact that you were his girlfriend. Your eyes started to water as you played with his hair with one hand and gently rubbed his cheek with the other. "I love you," you whispered. "I love you too," he said back.

He jolted upward, making you jump away from him slightly. "George?" you asked, concerned. "What?" he asked with a yawn. Now that he was fully awake, you burst out laughing, making him tilt his head in confusion. "Why are you laughing?" he asked with a pout. "Nothing, nothing," you giggled out. "Y/n, tell meee," he said while gently shaking you. "I didn’t know you actually talked in your sleep," you said while trying not to laugh. "Oh my god... " he breathed out, embarrassed. You couldn’t control your laughter, laughing harder than you ever had before.

"What did I say?" he asked with genuine curiosity. "You asked me how I was..." you started. He let out a relieved sigh, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "AND YOU CALLED ME PRETTY!" you yelled out. " Oh my god," he said while burying his face into his hands out of humiliation. "AND YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!" you said, crying with laughter. He ran his hands through his hair as he shook his head into them. "You’re crazy," he said. "You’re the one that said it," you said while wiping your tears. After you both had calmed down, he decided to speak up.

"Well, I mean, it’s true," he said. "What’s true?" you asked, confused. "That I love you. And that you’re pretty," he responded with a shrug, scratching the back of his head. "Are you still sleeping?" you asked half-jokingly, surprised at how honest he was being. He was never this straight-forward with you, ever. He laughed at your joke before gently grabbing the back of your head and pulling you back into his chest. He ran his fingers through your hair, resting his chin on top of your head. "Goodnight, baby," he said. "Goodnight," you yawned, falling asleep in his arms.

#dream smp #georgenotfound #georgenotfound smut #georgenotfound fluff #georgenotfound x you #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound drabble #gnf #gnf x you #mcyt smut #dsmp smut #gnf drabble #gnf x reader #gnf x you smut #gnf x reader smut

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caged-crows · 8 months

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c!techno is probably living in cave somewhere. probably a lush cave or something. there are some axolotls in the river, he feeds them raw cod he gets from the surface sometimes.

he misses phil and niki a lot. sometimes he takes out his emerald, and and just stares at it, or just hold it close to his chest.

he can't go back, though. not yet. not until he finds a way to get ranboo back. if techno gonna come back, it wont be alone. he refuses to let it happen, stubborn as he is.

#dream smp #dsmp #technothepig #technoblade #the syndicate #ranboo #{ drabbles.#sort of lol #philza #niki nihachu #nihachu

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chrysalizzm · 1 year

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on killing butterflies (for @lookinghalfacorpse)

x

phil watches, sometimes, fingers laced under his chin and elbows braced on the sill, as dream holds out his hands and laughs through the cloud of colors that smothers him. even though dream doesn’t need the constant surveillance anymore, at least this pair of eyes is one he doesn’t mind showing his back to, even if it’s off-putting at times. techno made his opinion on the butterflies clear; phil’s centuries older than him and has insect-eaters for company. not that dream would begrudge phil’s beloved flock a snack, but the proximity between chats is a little worrying at times.

“they’re lovely, mate,” phil offers once, shooing a curious crow away from the horde with a searching look.

dream hums. “they are,” he replies, emptying his voice deliberately, because: this isn’t a matter of loveliness, or even of preference. his butterflies carry his messages and watch his server. their beauty is one that predicates survival, blending into thickets and splaying owl-faced among the branches. though he may not have chosen them, they’re his now, and they folded down into his prisoner’s garb, his pools of blood, his oversized netherite chestplate. they melted down sam’s body for him.

phil’s eyeing him again, feathers rustling against the cold, like he knows what he’s thinking. dream lets a bright green butterfly crawl imperiously all over his face and bolts his mouth against his smile.

#dream smp #dream smp fic #drabble #killing butterflies #itwall #i kind of interpreted them as being from adjacent verses #which is why phil is here #c!dream #c!techno #c!phil #mild body horror tw #chrys writes

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basilly · 2 years

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dad ! pt 2 || mcyts x reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ summary: what they would post with their children | pt 1 here!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ includes: dream, sapnap, karl, quackity, george, + wilbur !

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ pronouns: none mentioned

dream: "pattycake is going well"

george: "totally didn't almost drop him"

sapnap: "can't wait to show them the rest of the world"

quackity: "hands full"

karl: "can't wait for one of my own"

wilbur: "showing him how it feels to be tall"

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stardustluvs · 8 months

Note

Helllo! This is my first ask, asking from your page. But could you do a reader (any gender or gender neutral) doing their best to suprise Punz and make him smile.

Like reader tries to do anything, even if its something random or just in the middle of nothing. But they try to make him crack a little smile?

Im thinking of a little wholesome today :>

Let Me Love You - Punz X Reader

Word Count: 633

Pairing: Punz x gn!Reader

Summary: After a bad day, gn!reader just wants to see their boyfriend smile again, wanting to take care of him and make him feel better.

Warnings: Punz referred to by his real name

Author’s Note: I saw this in my requests and literally could have melted! This was so cute to write! Also, I know this is probably a tad different than you intended but I think it works just as well!

Requests are open! || masterlist

Today was so off, you couldn’t even put your finger as to why. Well. Maybe you could. Luke had only come out of his bedroom maybe once today and it sounded like it took everything in him to even say a simple “hello” or “good morning.”

You stared at the staircase from the kitchen, debating on going to check on him. Normally he would’ve made more conversation or invited you to come hang out in his room with him or something, but today? Nothing.

You practically lived here now, having spent nearly every day at his house for the past year you’ve been together, so you understood if maybe he wanted his own space, but this felt like something he would’ve said if he felt that way about.

Another moment went by before turning on your heel to go check on him without another thought. As you approached his bedroom door though, you hesitated suddenly.

If he wants space, it should be respected.

The conflicting thoughts battled in your mind but you refused to let it get in the way. What if something was wrong?

You knocked on the door softly, but loud enough he would hear it from inside.

You were about to enter when nothing but silence followed until you could hear your boyfriend’s voice telling you to come in. You frowned softly at the realization his voice didn’t seem…him.

As you opened the door, you peeked your head into the bedroom, glancing around until you found him on his bed, staring down at his phone.

“Are you okay?” You asked him, stepping into the room completely, shutting the door softly behind you as you made your way over to the bed to sit next to him. He was sat up against the headboard of his bed, mindlessly scrolling on what you could only guess was Twitter or Instagram.

He didn’t answer, not unless a soft “mm” counts, and to you, it did not.

You rested your head against his shoulder, watching him scroll. Silently, he laid his head against yours, turning his phone off and setting it in his lap.

“What’s going on, Luke?” You asked him softly, moving your head to look at him.

“Just a shitty day. I had a horrible stream last night and I also barely got any sleep afterward, and I just feel…bleh,” He sighed.

You frowned softly at his answer, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He grabbed your hand softly, rubbing his thumb against it gently, “You don’t need to worry about me, you have your own shit going on,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re literally crazy, come here,” You said, pulling him into a hug.

He hugged you back with a sigh, “Sorry I’ve been so absent today.”

You pulled away, shaking your head ‘no.’

“Don’t apologize for having a bad day,” You said, “here, lay down with me,” You added.

You lay down on his bed, pulling him down with you, throwing the blanket over the two of you.

“Don’t we have stuff to do today?” He asked, after laying down reluctantly.

“Yeah, nap,” You responded with a small laugh, kissing his forehead.

For the first time all day, he smiled softly at you, and it gave you a familiar feeling of happiness.

“I missed your smile,” You told him softly as he rested his head next to yours, facing you.

He hugged your waist as he buried his face into your chest.

It wasn’t often he let himself be the one to be taken care of, but he was always the sweetest when it happened, and you enjoyed getting to return the love you felt for him.

You watched as he drifted off to sleep, running a hand through his hair softly, falling asleep yourself soon after.

#punz x reader #x reader #drabble #blurb #mcyt #mcyt x reader #dsmp #dsmp x reader #punz #dream smp #minecraft #punz x y/n #punz x you #kit’s requests

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elmhat · 1 year

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// dsmp rp

A Protege Tommy AU Drabble

This was inspired by @the-final-sif — you can find the original post here!

~

“What’s that?”

Dream didn’t need to look to know where Tommy was pointing. Crossing these waters in the dead of night, with the moon shut away behind thick storm clouds, there was only one structure big and bright enough to make out.

Still, Dream decided to play dumb. “What’s what?”

Tommy gestured wildly. “What’s the massive fucking box in the middle of the ocean? It looks like a prison.”

“It is a prison.”

“What the fuck?” Tommy leaned over the boat, threatening to topple it. “Why’s there— fuck. You could fit the whole of L’Manberg in there.”

Dream’s grip tightened around the oar. “Yeah.”

Rowing for this long was exhausting in more ways than one. Tommy was pushing him. Tommy couldn’t be pushing him. This conversation had to be stopped, right here and now, or Dream might do something he would regret.

Of course, it didn’t. “Wait, are you going to fit the whole of L’Manberg in there?” Tommy probed.

They were almost at the mainland. Only a few minutes until he could drop Tommy off with Punz. Dream could stay calm for a few minutes. Not long at all.

“No, Tommy. Don’t be dumb.”

“Don’t be dumb, ooh, I’m Dream, I’m so evil that I won’t even tell my own friends about my evil plans—”

Dream’s head snapped to him. Though he knew the boy couldn’t couldn’t see his face, Dream could certainly see his—glowing amber in the light of the prison, all amusement wiped clean like waves on sand.

“Sorry. Sorry! I— I’m genuinely sorry, Dream, I didn’t mean it.” He held his hands up placatingly.

Behind the mask, Dream rolled his eyes, turning back to his destination. “This is important, Tommy. I have— I do have plans.”

“So who’s it for?” Tommy lit up again. Dream wanted to throw him out the fucking boat.

“Someone… important,” he said instead.

“Someone in L’Manberg? Like Tubbo?”

A pause.

“Wait— It’s Tubbo? Seriously?” Tommy was looking to him like a lost puppy, eyes wide and searching for a reassurance that Dream would not give him. What he gave Dream, on the other hand, was an opportunity.

“How would you feel about that?”

Doubt flashed across Tommy’s face. “About Tubbo? I mean, it’s not— I’d— I’d do whatever we need to do?”

A question, not a statement. Dream sighed, and Tommy rushed to elaborate. “I don’t wanna betray him, b-but I’ll go along with what you say. Whatever’s the right thing.”

“It’s not betraying him if he betrayed you first,” Dream pointed out.

Tommy’s voice was suddenly very small. “That’s true, I guess.”

The boat finally hit land, and Dream set about docking it. All the while, Tommy was silent, knees pulled up to his chest and gaze somewhere else. Dream sat down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You can’t be having doubts now, Tommy. You need to be all in. Right?”

“I’m sorry, I know. I’m all in.”

“Are you sure?”

Tommy looked up at him with steel in his eyes. “I promise,” he declared, with all the confidence of his glory days.

Dream knew it would never be enough.

#c!dream #c!tommy #c!discduo #dreblr #protege tommy au #dream smp #dsmp #dsmp fic #my writing #drabbles #elm fics

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lookinghalfacorpse · 2 years

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/dsmp /rp tw for mentions of violence, death, war, medical details

the various skills of philza minecraft and where he learned them. a collection of the half-lost memories of an immortal.

basic medical procedures. he was around 350 years old when he stumbled to the doorstep of a village doctor. a polite, patient woman who wore shawls and long dresses. she wrapped his wounds, gave him tea, and they hit off well enough that philza spent the next 5 years with her. he watched her operate on soldiers, on children, on mothers and fathers. he learned how to amputate a limb after a pre-teen boy crushed his hand during a cave exploration, and while he lay half-conscious and drunk on pain pills, his remaining hand grasped philza’s sleeve. “how do you keep from falling in love?” he asks the doctor. “i don’t,” she replies, “i just let it happen.”

(her home is targeted by a clever army. if you take down the doctor, you eliminate the chance of recovery. philza uses what he learned to try to save her-- tourniquets, cpr-- but it isn’t enough.)

herbal mixes. he spent around 80 years with a commune deep in the mountains-- a collection of folks who needed a home and found it within one another. they built beautiful structures and gardens where they grew herbs to mix into teas and pipes. he outlives all of them and their children.

carpentry. his foggiest, most distant memories take place on a farm. he’s a clumsy young boy following his father around, holding candles for him while he worked, learning about different woodworking terms. years and years have passed, and he can no longer remember his father’s face or name, but he’s kept many of the lessons.

flying. everyone has to start somewhere. phil trained with an old elytrian-- a man who has taught many, many children over his years. when phil first approached, the man thought he was another hunter seeking to slice his wings from his back and sell them, as humans often did, but philza showed him how his wings were attached to his back and explained that they were a gift from death herself. the elytrian’s training methods were harsh. birds drop their children from the nest to teach them, and similarly, philza found himself tossed into the void with no option but to save himself. his lack of other bird-like features made things interesting. With no tail to steer or talons to grasp a perch, the old mentor had to adjust his ways when he worked with phil. they stayed together for 20 years before the elytrian left him, as he did with all his children before.

handling panic attacks. after a village is burned to the ground, the survivors ran away together and tried to restart. philza joined them for a while. many of the villagers break down into tears and tremors, barely breathing between sobs, and phil watches a young mother help them. she coos, she traces fingertips along their skin, she whispers compliments and affirmations and confident declarations that they’ll be safe. an earthquake destroys their efforts, and as a little boy suffocates under the ruins of his new home, philza talks to him. coos. traces fingertips along his skin. whispers to him, with confidence, that he will be okay.

playing guitar. he travels, briefly, with a warden hybrid. being born in darkness and sculk, the hybrid has an easier time navigating cave systems than the airborne philza, so phil elects his help when he makes a journey underground. the man is blind, and he uses music as a way to pass the time. phil can only play basic chords, but it’s enough to help him teach his son later on. philza doesn’t realize the man has died until he visits his home many years later to ask for his aide again, only to find the structure long abandoned.

braiding hair. a talkative young woman at a market stall offered to teach him, insistent that he’d look lovely if he tied his long hair back. he only wanted to buy some wool off of her, but he left with a new skill, a blush on his face from all the compliments she gave, and a discount on the wool.

(he tells kristin later, and she laughs and laughs and laughs)

leatherworking. he pays a woman very handsomely to teach him. she has strong, muscular arms and eyes that tear through him, and she isn’t patient with his mistakes. her voice, heavily accented and deep, is frightening when she raises it, but philza enjoys her company regardless. he’s been spending many years alone, and her commanding presence is a stark contrast to the silence he’s been enduring. he likes finding ways to make her laugh. when he returns later, hoping to ask her about a saddle he’s struggling with, he finds the shop flooded and destroyed, no owner in sight.

there’s a nerve in the spine that, if sliced, can turn the strongest of men into drooling vegetables. philza cut it once, reducing a bloodthirsty warlord to a mindless lump of flesh within a heartbeat. phil doesn’t talk about it, but he was 22 years old at the time, and although thousands of years have passed he still remembers the emptiness in that warlord’s eyes. he scared himself. he felt more aware of the consequences of brutality, of the frailty of the human body, of what vengeance can lead to.

(who could ever deserve this? for all that he’s done, is this justice?)

archery. escaping the violence (and the demands for his head), philza spends some time in the nether. befriending the piglins comes easily, and they don’t really care about his past. they do, however, care very much about how small he is. his bones snap easily, a shove from one of their shields can toss him across a field. they insist that he learns more long-distance techniques, and he undertakes archery. he masters it, and he lies in wait until the overworld forgets him.

horseback riding. he learned this from technoblade. having lost his ability to fly, he needed new ways to travel quickly, and horses were a good option. sitting atop a horse felt like a defeat, like a loss, like a demotion from the angel of death that he’s been for centuries, but techno taught him with a smile.

playing patty-cake. he’s walking through a distant village when a boy, no older than 5 years old, takes a fistful of phil’s feathers. the child is wandering alone, and when phil asks him where his parents are, he answers with questions of his own. why do you have wings, mister? why are you wearing a hat? phil takes him by the hand and leads him to the side of the road, away from the horses and travelers. the boy doesn’t seem frightened, which could be a good sign, and phil sticks around in hopes that his parents will show. he pretends not to know how to play patty-cake as the boy teaches him. he messes it up in exaggerated, humorous ways (smacking himself in the face, using a foot instead of a hand) to make him laugh. when his mother returns to retrieve him, her face a deep red, he tells her that she has a most lovely son.

(philza would say that patty-cake is one of his most important skills. and blowing raspberries on a baby’s stomach, and planting rapid-fire kisses on a toddler’s cheek until she squeals and blushes. how do you keep from falling in love?)

#:')#drabbles #cphilza #c!philza #i'll make a mastertag for stuff about phil's past #dsmp #dreamsmp #dream smp #cphil #c!phil #immortal

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