#dsmp writing prompt

[hopalongfairywren]

Death

cErynPromptWeek Day Two: His powers.

Eryn liked to think he was a normal person. As normal as one could be on a SMP full of Gods, political leaders, ghosts and eldritch beings. But even among a land full of strange misfits... He was off. Anyone could tell, just by observing the demon hybrid for a few minutes.

And that was what Badboyhalo was doing. 

“Nobody else is that weird around the hole.” Bad muttered, as he and Skeppy watched three new arrivals gawk and stare around the historic runes of L’manhole. It had become tradition at that point, to show the newer members the site. If not to warn them of the dangers of TNT, then to plead with them; Don’t make the same mistakes we did. So Bad tuned out the embellished tales Quackity, Sapnap and Tommy told the trio, instead focusing on each individual.Tina and Boomer were more than happy to watch with wide eyes as the three took turns explaining the legends of L’manberg, and they stayed close to Sapnap. Eryn meanwhile was off a couple of blocks, staring straight into the deep ravine, occasionally nodding his head when Tommy prompted him. If Bad didn’t know any better, he’ed think the other was contemplating jumping.

“What are you talking about, Tommy comes here practically every day-” Skeppy began to argue, lazily swatting a fly from his partner’s shoulder.

“No. I mean-look. Just look at the kid. He’s looking like George when he wakes up from naps. And this is his first day here!” Bad pointed, swishing his tail.

The younger demon hybrid’s eyes were glazed, his ears pointed straight up. Men, women and children a like fled from this place. Now lifeless smoldering ruins, then bright with the wrath of the Gods themselves. No other beings could bring so much devastation to a land. A decaying obsidian platform was the only visual remaining of the day TNT fell from the sky like rain. A masked man had stood from above, watching the carnage. Wolves chased the stragglers who remained in the valley, ripping and tearing at flesh. Withers roared, and spat their deadly poison onto any untouched ground.

“So strange.” Bad shook his head, before guiltily looking away.

“My shift at the prison starts again soon.” He muttered, turning away. Bad could not shake the weird feeling from him, as he left the hole swathed in obsidian, and reeking of human suffering, and went into a building of obsidian not too different.

#dream smp #dsmp #eryn cyberonix #c!eryn #cerynpromptweek #my writing #the wren sings #writing prompt #dsmp writing prompt

[dsmp-writing-prompts]

DSMP Writing Prompt | Disparate Times & Desparate Measures

It's 1982 and Tommy wakes up one day to find a handwritten note in his letterbox. A warning to stay away from a certain house at the edge of town, near the woods. Unsure who sent it, as it even lacked a stamp to begin with, Tommy packs his things and drives his bike to the given address, surely nobody can tell him what to do, right?

It's 2022, Wilbur wakes up to the sound of his alarm clock, mail thrown in his face by his more-often-than-not grumpy landlord. One crudely handwritten note draws his attention, as the cry for help urges him to visit a certain address near the edge of the city, by the abandoned car park.

The home, seemingly abandoned, has guests for the first time in many years.

After settling the unusual confrontations, they realise the note Wilbur got appeared to be written in Tommy's handwriting. What was most unsettling was the fact that it was dated 1982.

Something would happen soon, something that bound their fates together forever and this house would hold the key to it all.

#dream smp fanfic #dsmp writing prompt #writing prompt #dream smp #free to use #tommyinnit #crimeboys #dream smp au #crimeboys au #dsmp writing idea #inspiration #writing inspo #writing inspiration

[bleue-flora]

Ok, I recently wrote an essay [here] talking about the definition and duties of civil engineering as well as the ethics because of the brain rot @swordfright gave me with calling Dream Sam’s ultimate engineering project. So, because I actually am a civil engineer I took it upon myself to design the title and summary of quantities sheets just like I do at work for roads but with Dream as the project instead. And in honor of angst day sponsored by @sixteenth-day-event, I figured I’d share it because I feel like it kinda works for the prison of the mind prompt.

“Sam’s “ultimate engineering project” he deemed too damaged like a bumpy road or crumbling building that wasn’t worthy of patching and filling in the cracks or reinforcing, that’s too eroded to be fixed and preserved. So, Sam strived to tear him down to the bedrock so he could remake, remold, and reengineer Dream according to his design for the common safety, public health and well-fair.”

{These are very similar to the actual sheets I make day to day, which I shall not share for the sake of doxing my location, but yea pretty much everything has a significance. Some of it doesn’t necessarily make sense but that was because I was more so taking inventory of what we see in lore (so you know I counted ;) lol)}

#sixteenthdayevent #AAANNNNNGGST #Ah and now you see why I’ve been digging up all the prison lore and inventories ;D…. my brain rot is too powerful #still never got wardens torment enchants though :( did for the shovel and how which I’ll now have to write torture scenes for… #so ummm stay tuned for that in Misery Loves An Idiot… Dream going to have lots of fun I’m sure >:) #c!dream #dsmp #dreblr #dream smp #dsmp dream #dsmp analysis #dsmpblr #prison arc #dsmp art #pandora’s vault has a singular purpose #pandora’s vault #c!dream fanart #blue does art apparently #ah Sam… such a good engineer… if only he realized Dream was a person not a condemned structure oof #if y’all are curious enough I might share a irl work example with different numbers and stuff but didn’t want to bore you XD #happy angst day :)… wait isn’t that everyday? lol #can we talk about how I’ve done all of these prompts as descriptions of metaphors and stuff kinda funny #civil engineering

[dingbatnix]

Oof, poor Punz. Eventually he'll figure out that it's probably safe : )

Also, if Punz really was against Dream and the others were accusing/attacking him, Dream wouldn't defend Punz, because the others would be diverting the attention on Dream. Doing this proves that they're working together, buuuut none of the others have really stopped to think about it. They're too much in shock : D

Taglist: @brick-a-doodle-do @i-am-beckyu @da3dm @kayla-crazy-stuffs @local-squishmallow @skullsnbruises @giant-tiny-squid I'm putting you here cause it's your ask, technically:)

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #giant!dream #mcyt vore #g/t #tiny!punz #im not tagging anybody else cause there only there for one panel #sfw vore #safe vore #soft vore #it was supposed to be a writing prompt but i vibed while drawing #staged duo noms #g/t staged duo #staged duo g/t #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #dsmp vore #bat's art #ignore the fact that dream is grey my color filters were kinda whack #and im too lazy to fix it #mouth #mawshot #yeeee #teeth #i greatly appreciate teeth

[rebelpeas]

The first day Ranboo M. Beloved brings his car into the shop, Tubbo gains two impressions of him. One, he has what might be a contender for the world’s ugliest expensive car. Two, he’s definitely getting his money from something illegal.

-- tubbo is a mechanic, and he's pretty sure the new regular at the shop is mixed up in, like, the mafia or something. silliness ensues.

4k, tubbo-centric, complete. a gift i made for @misotofu as part of the fic in a box exchange! :]

#my writing #dsmp #dsmp fic #beeduo #tubbo #i think this was my favorite gift i made during fiab. it is SO silly to me and i had a great time with it #big shoutout to miso for being the giftee (AND GIFTER?!??!!!) EVERR his prompts were so so so fun they made the creation period such a joy #also the fic they wrote for me goes CRAZY you guys should read it

[midnight-stormm]

Stop! I'm seeing all these c!sapnap prompts about how he's the only one who survived the nuke that killed everyone and that he wanders the server trying to find where everyone is at and it just proves further how c!sapnap is such a tragic character😭😭

And it's strange because everything still looks in one piece but he does see pieces that are blown up and he can't tell if this is reality or hes hallucinating. He can still smell the smoke in the air and certain areas he wander, he can still hear the happy laughter and see the fond memories that was shared. What if he's acutally dead but is in limbo.

I'm done!!

#oh man #now I feel like crying #even i want to write some c!sapnap #you guys and these prompts #dsmp #c!sapnap #dream smp #and now im adding my two cents into it

[gascansposts]

ALRIGHT. IM OUTING MYSELF

I used to be super into dsmp, WHICH IS IMPORTANT FOR CONTEXT

Anyways Dpxdc au and Danny is slimecicle, Jason Todd as Quackity, and everyone else being filled into the other roles. Idk just, Danny being Todd's ghost in the walls and them becoming weirdly codependent on each other to the point it's probably unhealthy and then whoever replace Purpled fucking kills Danny to try and take down the Red Hood empire and Todd going insane trying to bring him back y'know?

Anyways Inspired by the throwaway line in a dcxdp among us au "he's apparently more goop than boy"

(maybe TimKon Tim being ranboo and Kon being Tubbo so that we can have "totally humans" duo frfr, maybe Dick being Wilbur, Damian is Tommy, Jschlatt is... someone... Bruce being Technoblade (this one I'm set on) and maybe superman being Philza? Could be interesting. Ummm Sapnap, Karl and Quackity is Kor'i (?) Oli (??) And Jason yeah? Is that the ship? Uhhh whoever is your fav toxic ship should be Badboyhalo and Skeppy, idk who capt. Puffy should be neither rose or dream or anything but then again this was totally just a throw away joke)

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dcxdp prompt #dpxdc prompt #dpxdcxdsmp #dpxdc au #dsmp au #prompt #writing prompt #literally someone take this from me i just have an obsession with silly men #slimecicle... slmccl. #gillion tidestridee danny phantom and co. pavitr uhhh #i have more but can't think of them off the top of my head #rapheal #(rottmnt usually) #its... bad

[bagelrites]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Sam fires Bad from the prison for his involvement with the Egg

Pink Slip

While working a weekly shift as a prison guard (or glorified cell-cleaner, really) Bad finds that the prison walls seem to dampen the effect the Egg has on his mind.

Eventually, it gets him fired.

My fic for @sixteenth-day-event

(also on AO3)

If you asked Bad whether he liked working as a prison guard, the answer would be complicated. There are some things about the prison, and especially about the Warden, that unnerve him, yet oftentimes, being in the prison helps clear Bad’s mind. It’s like a breath of fresh air, stepping beyond the obsidian maw into the dark, cloistered halls. Not that the air in there was fresh—it was quite stagnant and hot, the sort of the stillness that makes sweating an useless defense of the body against the heat. But he felt it inside, like a glass placed over a fly to dim the buzzing. That’s what it did for his head. It made things clearer: less fogged.

He had a feeling he knew why. That these walls kept things not only in but out. That for the hours where he patrolled and cleaned, his mind was his own, again, or at least more so than it had been.

Maybe that’s why he was willing to do some of the dirty jobs around the place, just to keep himself employed there. That, and if he had to guess, he was the only guard who’d ever changed a diaper. (Thanks, Sapnap.)

So his duties looked like this: patrol the halls, report anything suspicious or damaged to the Warden, then at 5 o’clock sharp, when he was to bring the prisoner his evening meal, he cleaned the bedpan, along with anything else that had gotten soiled in the cell. If anything was damaged or dirtied beyond repair, he was to confiscate it and report it to the Warden to be replaced. He’d only done that once, in regard to a hairbrush with a broken handle, but he’d never seen the prisoner get a new one.

Now his hair was long and matted, and his bedsheets had holes worn through them, and Bad was too afraid to report the damage, lest he return to find the prisoner sleeping on a bare mattress. 

(He’d complained once about the conditions in the prison. Expressed concern that the prisoner ate his weekly meal from Bad like it was the only food he’d been given in days. Expressed further concern about leaving the bedpan unwashed for so long—and not just for the sake of his nose. The Warden reminded him what the prisoner had done. Said Bad seemed too sympathetic. Asked if his prison should be run like a hotel. If the prisoner should be treated like a guest.

Bad said no.)

Maybe that was why he brought the new sheets. Tucked into the bottom of his supply cart, just a simple white sheet and a matching pillow case. The blanket would have to stay, it was too bulky to sneak in a new one, but it wasn’t as though Bad was concerned about the prisoner getting cold in that sweltering box.

The hardest part was convincing him to stand up so Bad could change the sheets.

“You need to what?” he asked, looking up with filmy eyes. 

“Change your sheets. Can you stand?”

The prisoner looked down at his legs like he didn’t trust them, then back up to Bad with much the same feeling.

“You’ve never done that before.”

“The Warden wants me to change the sheets,” Bad lied, and at last the prisoner seemed to understand. His expression turned blank, resigned, and he nodded, shuffling to the edge of the bed so he could throw his legs over the side and rise—wobbly—to his feet. Bad ached a little inside watching him hold the wall for support as he moved away, but he waited until he was well and clear of the bed before he started. He’d learned a long time ago not to get too close to the prisoner. He didn’t react well to that.

Bad tucked the sheets around the corners, fluffed up the old, squashed pillow as best he could, and laid the tattered blanket overtop. He put the meal tray on the blanket, since the prisoner usually ate in bed, and when he turned around he saw his expression had changed.

He looked crumpled. Like he would cry, if only his body had enough water in it to make tears.

“Did the Warden really ask you to change my sheets?” he asked.

Bad didn’t answer.

He couldn’t lie again.

…

Something shifted. The prison became an escape for Bad. He walked his weekly route around the halls with a brisk pace, feeling the tension in his joints release, the teeth-grinding bitterness roll off him like steam. He grew more determined, more willful. It was here and only here, after all, that he could exert his own will.

He began to bring a change of clothes with the meal and the cleaning each week. He stole two of the orange uniforms from the supply closet, and snuck one in, leaving it under the prisoner’s pillow. He was clever enough to pick up the hint, and Bad found the old, smelly, tattered one under his pillow the next week, which he threw away. They exchanged the two new uniforms weekly after that: the prisoner would dress himself in the clean one and Bad would take the dirty one away to wash for the next week. 

He wasn’t sure it would work, at first. Didn’t think the prisoner would change in front of him. But he did it mostly when Bad’s back was turned, and that seemed to be enough privacy for him. (Bad still caught glimpses of scars and burns he’d never seen before, but he pretended he didn’t see—both for the prisoner’s sake and his own.) 

Slowly, the prisoner let him get closer. Would occasionally say a few words to him, outside of conversation pertinent to Bad’s duties. Would even let him stand close enough to touch him. 

So Bad got bolder. He brought in a rag and some soap and asked the prisoner if he would like to be clean.

That question confused him. Bad saw in gnawing at him, the confusion in his eyes, the press of his brows.

I don’t deserve to be clean.

“Just let me wipe your face,” he said, and the confusion melted into obedience.

“Okay.”

He held himself very still. He gripped the edge of the mattress, knuckles white and protruding from skeletal hands. Bad moved slowly, wiped the rag in soft, careful circles over the dirt and oil crusted along his hairline. It took awhile to come up. Bad had to rinse and wring the washcloth several times, the water in his bucket turning just as gray as when he moped the floor. But slowly, the skin below revealed itself, pale and flaky over scars and acne. 

The prisoner began to cry somewhere in the middle of the cleaning. Silently, jaw clenched, trembling with the will to remain still for Bad. But he cried nonetheless, and Bad wiped away the tears with the rest of the dirt.

When Bad was done, he remained there—eyes closed, shoulders melted down, face pressed forward—while Bad folded away the damp, dirty washcloth and wrapped the soap in a fresh, dry one.

“Here,” he said, trying to offer the parcel to him so he could clean the rest of himself, later, unobserved. But the prisoner did not open his eyes.

Bad sighed.

“Dream?”

His lashes fluttered, his green eyes wide, suddenly attentive.

“Here.” He pressed the gift into his palm. Dream took in a shuddering breath. He looked scared.

Still, he said: “Thank you.”

…

“What is this?” Bad held the pink paper away from himself like that would make it less real.

“Your termination letter,” the Warden told him. He was standing, arms behind his back, a large, oak desk between them.

“What have I done? I—I’ve never been late. I do the worst job here and I never complain,” Bad argued. “Who’s going to clean the bedpan now, Ant? You?”

“You don’t need to worry about that anymore,” the Warden said. “You are no longer an employee of this prison.”

“But—but why?” Bad’s lips were dry. He almost wanted him to say it. To admit that what Bad had done was wrong. That it was wrong, somehow, to offer human decency to a fellow human being.

But the Warden did not say that. Of course he didn’t.

“You are no longer committed to this cause. Your loyalty lies with the Egg. So leave it there.”

“The Egg?” Bad almost laughed. “This is about the Egg?”

“Yes. You’ve been distracted, these past few weeks. I think we both know why.”

Bad’s lip quivered, his eye twitched. This was the only place the Egg wasn’t on his mind. This was the only place he moved with determination and single-minded focus. This was the only place, in the past year or more, where he felt like himself—if only for a few, small moments in the quiet of that sweltering little cell.

“Do you need me to state it clearer?” the Warden asked. “You’re fired, Bad. And as such, you no longer have clearance to be here. Ant will escort you off the premises.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Bad put the letter back on his desk. “I know my way out.”

#okay so. I took the prompt and said but if it's ironic instead? #like that's “why” he gets fired. but. we know that's not really why he got fired #bbh #c!bbh #badboyhalo #c!dream #c!sam #pandoras vault #dreamwastaken #c!bbh fanfic #my fic #my writing #dsmp #dsmp fanfic #sixteenthdayevent

[mylians]

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#art #pendant #necklace #outfit #landscape #beauty #women #dress to impress #writing prompt #party #advanture #photography #flowers #nature #spring #fashion #floral #concert #my art #dsmp #yippee #explore #style #photooftheday #flowercore #design #jewelry

[auricgold0]

Random ideas I doubt I’ll ever write but I want someone else too #1

-Wilbur finds a dog/ wolf and tames it, rushing around for the day trying to keep the dog in check. The dog's name is Ozi (short for ozymandias) could include Quackity but includes Tommy for help with pets and shit.

-Randomly Wilbur creates and drinks a potion which practically gives him powers. He uses it to his advantage, an inconvenience to Las Navadas ending in a burst of flames or really cute idk.

-Dsmp au or just like au in general where Quackity and Wilbur are like life and death, put together as systematic partners to keep each other in check.

-Quackity and Wilbur (Dsmp) accidently become parents. Wilbur jokingly applies for an adoption paper just to piss Quackity off but when a little girl shows up to Quackitys place havoc reeks. Quackity and Wilbur decide to take care of this kid but stay rivals, the girl going back and forth between them. Romance happens, they both ease up more but they still hate each other cause yk it's them.

-Wilbur puts on eye makeup and is forced around Quackity by like Tommy or something and Quackity is just a mess for him like that so his demeanour is more distracted

-Wilbur sneaks into the library in Las nevadas late at night and Quackity ends up bumping into him while foolish is Discussing renovations to the design, it being too out of place or sum. Wilbur tries to hide from Q but Quackity finds him and asks what Wilbur is doing here. Wilbur goes on about books and Quackity blurts out that he used to have one before remembering it was ghostbur. Angsty shit, Wilbur goes on about Ghostbur and how people preferred him and Q reassures him. Then Q offers to suggest Wilbur some books, asking his opinion on the design.

-Quackity taps into his more nightmare guy and freaks Wilbur out while gambling blah blah idk - inspired by Alastors game

A fic where Wilbur forces himself into Quackitys home and convinces Quackity to let him crash for a few days. Cue arguments and overly clingy Wilbur who tries to hide that fact. Maybe have it lead up to his ending where he says goodbye or they fall in love so like a cute ending. Have them learn more about each other either accidentally or on purpose. A way to know your rival through living with them.

-Book of life au. Wilbur is a journalist travelling to Mexico after years of not being there. Last time he was he met The chief(Schlatt) and the researcher from the place (Quackity or change what he is) he comes back and his love blossoms

-Character them somehow finds fan fiction of themselves and read it (idk)

-They end up in the real world having to adapt to society and try to act normal. Having to buy houses, gambling addiction, laws etc. Wilbur ends up staying or they both go back and have a sweet ending. In the London area. Quackity realising Las Vegas is real, they have to work together.

-People are always claiming how they are the sun and moon . NOPEEE. Quackity is the moon, Wilbur the stars both equally as light and dark as each other. Stuck together because they're both in the dark 24/7. Do something symbolic with that

-Wilbur is like idk questioning his sexuality and stuff so he tries to be stubble and ask Quackity but it turns into a argument idk. I’ll probably actually figure out a plot but I want there to be dancing with Quackity in the lead, teasing Wilbur almost.

-The ‘there’s only one bed trope’ but them. Plot twist they don’t fuck but instead share sleepy secrets or admirations about the other and Wilbur falls asleep for the first time in a while. Why? Because he’s next to Quackity😍

#quackity #tntduo #wilbur soot #dsmp #c!wilbur #c!quackity #fanfic #myct #dsmp fanfic #may write some of these in the future who knows #if u don’t wanna write it give me prompt ideas for the ones you want me too😭 #save a poor writer #writing prompt #writing

[productofaritual]

Today I was thinking, why do God AUs always make Ranboo God of Memory, when his memory is in fact, absolutely dogshit. Like be so fr this is the guy who keeps a journal just detailing everything that happened to him because he can't remember it. Making him the God of memory would end up absolutely catastrophic on day 1

And so another fic idea was born

#if anyone wants to steal that concept FEEL FREE TO #just tag me so i can read it #dsmp #ao3 #fanfic #fanfic writing #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #dsmp fanfic #dream smp #fan fiction #fic prompt #writing prompt #dsmp ranboo

[hopalongfairywren]

Youth

for #cErynPromptWeek. I am getting this done now because I know I will loose my creativity and you gotta write when the moments come y’know?

Day One: First Lore Stream, his origin story.

Eryn still remembers his parents, all these years later. He remembers meeting Tommy for the first time, in the middle of summer. It had been so hot and sunny, it almost reminded Eryn of the Nether. His father had insisted on him coming to the Overworld at least once or twice, just to see what it was like, and Eryn was never one to back out of a challenge. The Overworld was bright and damp and cold, even when the sun was baring down on them, their was still a deep, uncomfortable chill in his bones. Eryn supposed that was the demon side of him.

And as most bored children do, Eryn was fooling around with his father’s bow. It was high quality, made of oak wood and with a freshly polished riser. He knew, deep down he wasn’t supposed to be using his father’s bow, but Eryn had also never been one to follow the rules either. And the bow had Unbreaking and Infinity enchantments on it! You couldn’t blame him for being curious! Besides, the had brought his own arrows with him to practice his aim. 

Eryn carefully tugged back the bowstring, and fired. The arrow landed square into the tree, and made a satisfying noise. And then a not so satisfying noise when a loud voice yelled out; 

“Oi, watch it dickhead, you nearly shot me!” A slightly younger blond boy peaked out from behind the tree. He quickly scrambled forward, continuing to say many cursewords that Eryn wouldn’t dare use in front of his elders.

“Who are you, and why did you nearly shoot me bitch!” The boy said, pointing his finger at Eryn.

“I’m not a murderer, I didn’t nearly shoot you, I shot the tree. What are you doing hiding behind a tree?” Eryn shot back, and that seemed to suprise the kid into backing away and stammering.

“I didn’t mean-I’m sorry I didn’t mean you were a murderer, I just-Hah!” The boy broke off into nervous laughter, extending a bandaid covered hand to Eryn. 

“I’m Tommy, by the way. Can you teach me to shoot a bow?”

teaching him to use a bow, and subsequently learning to swim was a lot more enjoyable than Eryn thought it would be. He didn’t find himself regretting saying yes to either request. To teach Tommy archery or to take a dip with him in the lake an hour later when the blond boy was hot and panting. 

Eryn was never one for a challenge, so even though he wasn’t hot, and the water was cold, Eryn said yes.

He remembers wandering into the Dream SMP with Tina and Boomer, And He remembers the wailing screech of the prison sirens during Dream’s escape. He remembers war, and violence, and anarchy.

“Run boy, run.” A woman, a stranger urged him as she fled past with a bag of her belongings. Eryn gulped, turning back to face burning village. Piglins had raided it, and Eryn had ran from the wreckage with a sprained ankle and bloody nose. But he couldn’t find his parents. His father had been one of the men to grab their bows and arrows and surge forward to meet the invasion head on, and his mother had been at the marketplace that morning.

And so, with little else as an option, Eryn, never one to give up on a challenge, went through the swirly purple portal to the Overworld. He tried to ignore it’s eerie wailing best as best as he could. 

#dream smp #dsmp #eryn cyberonix #c!eryn #cerynpromptweek #getting this out early when I still have time oh yeah #my writing #the wren sings #please reblog this if you like it #writing prompt #dsmp writing prompt #first lore stream #i think #constructive critism welcome

[dsmp-writing-prompts]

DSMP Writing Prompt | The Dreamhoppers

Wilbur and Tommy are two young adults who don’t know each other, that is, until one night their dreams are linked through a supernatural event. The boys don’t know each other in real life, but in their dreams they start going on adventures together, completely under the impression that the other person is merely a figment of their imagination.

That changes when they meet in person one day, where they are awestruck and a little apprehensive to talk about their shared dreams. Over time they grow closer, their dream ventures getting bigger and more epic.

It seemed like a friendship, or even brotherhood, that was meant to be. For what reason? They’re about to find out when they realize that their dreams start turning to nightmares, and they’re not quite alone there either..

#dsmp writing idea #dsmp writing prompt #dream smp au #dsmp au #writing prompt #writing inspiration #writing inspo #prompt #fanfic prompt

[loversj0y]

omg I’ve never done this before (sent a fic request im a bit embarrassed) but hear me out. hear me out. thief!reader accidentally breaking into warden!wilburs house teehee haha

listen i wrote this so quick so it the quality is scuffed i apologize but oh man. this idea is top tier, hc format but if you’d like me to expand, just lmk!!

thief!reader breaking into warden! wilburs house

slight suggestive material! btw :3

wilbur soot x gn! reader

flirty lil shit :33

- okay, listen, in your defense, you didn’t know he was a prison warden

- and its not like you were stupid. this wasnt your first break-in

- you spent a week watching his habits from afar, taking note of when he left for work and came back, keeping track of any variations

- he worked nights usually, so from about 11pm-7am, so you figured you’d have the perfect 8 hour window to sneak in, take some cash, and leave before he noticed anything

- when he left for work that night, you were quick to sneak in

- you quickly started exploring, trying to find something of value

- there were a LOT of lighters

- after 30 minutes of searching, you found a small safe and started working on figuring out the code, not noticing the sound of quiet footsteps behind you

- until you felt a hand wrapping around your mouth and waist, pulling you against his body

- “and what exactly do you imagine you’re doing here?”

- oh fuck.

- he was hot too.

- he moved his hand off your mouth, sitting you down. your heart jumped. partly because of the gun on his waist, mostly because of how gorgeous he was

- he was grinning though, clearly enjoying this.

- “you know, if you’re going to steal, you really have to be smarter about it.” he laughed

- god, his laugh…

- “are you blushing right now?”

- that just made you blush harder. he leaned over you, gently placing a hand on your jaw.

- “i-“ you were a bit of a stuttering mess “i knew what i was doing.”

- “clearly not, love.” he tutted “or else you wouldnt be sat here. but its a good thing you’re cute or else we’d have a much bigger problem on us.”

- what

- “you’re lucky im not actually a warden. i’d have you locked up right now” he grinned

- that didnt honestly sound half bad if he was the one doing it

- he smirked, leaning closer, his lips just barely touching yours

- “what? are you nervous?”

- you absolutely were. however. your close proximity also made you crave his contact

- you leaned forward, pulling him in for a heated kiss

- he returned the intensity, kissing you back and making your head spin

- while you didnt leave with any cash, you did leave with a new potential partner

#wilbur x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #mar writes #wilbur x reader #prompts #asks #anon :3

[luna-lokisdottir]

Music Giant AU

Tallulah is the daughter of the Music Giant Wilbur and stands at 50 ft tall (which is relatively small compared to her father)

One day, a human thief named Tommy ends up finding her cave and hides in there to get away from King Cellbit's guards

What he doesnt realize is that a young giant is staring down at him and watching him curiously

Tallulah gets rather curious about Tommy once he realizes that she's there and eventually starts holding him and fawning over how small he is and how she can't wait to show him to her papa

Wilbur has dealt with humans before and is a bit hesitant about Tallulah keeping him around, knowing he probably has a life to get back too but Tommy agrees to stay considering that Cellbit still has guards searching for him

Wilbur is about 150 ft tall, pretty tall compared to Tallulah

They live in an enchanted forest separated from humans, they aren't the only titans that live there

Tommy doesn't realize he entered a giants cave until the last minute before Tallulah grabs him lol

Each Giant has their own abilities, not sure what Tallulah and Wilbur have, but I do know their powers surround music

#giant!wilbur #giant!tallulah #mcyt g/t #g/t community #tiny!tommy #tiny!cellbit #qsmp g/t #dsmp g/t #been pretty uninspired lately #i can write prompts but cant write full stories #kinda inspired by an OC i had #idk what to put in the tags #luna talks #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #g!wilbur

[cozy-kitty-corner]

SBI Whumptober Day 6 - coughing up blood and “just breathe.” In which Tubbo has Hanahaki disease, and Ranboo finds out. Based off of the characters, never the CCs!!

A loud knocking on the bathroom door startled Tubbo enough that he jerked towards it.

“Yes?” He croaked.

“Tubbo, are you okay? You’ve been in here for an hour and you didn’t answer my first five knocks.” That was… Ranboo. Yes. And- Tubbo had been in here for that long? It only felt like a few minutes.

He looked back at the toilet in front of him, studying the bloody petals filling the bowl.

There were three flower types now. Before there had only been two. He needed to look up the meaning once he got out.

Tubbo snapped towards the door as a *bang* rang out and the white painted wood slammed into the wall.

Ranboo stormed through, and visibly paled.

Tubbo couldn’t exactly blame him, with the way the shorter looked.

(Blood dribbling down his chin, half sightless eyes with eyebags on his eyebags. Flower petals and twigs strewn down his front.)

The masked man rushed forward, gently lifting Tubbo out of his awkward sprawl on the linoleum.

(Distantly, Tubbo realized that he had lost all feeling in his legs.)

That wasn’t anything to care about though, because Ranboo was holding him up. Ranboo’s hands were touching Tubbo’s back, Ranboo’s arms were tucked around Tubbo, Ranboo was *so close* to Tubbo.

His brain shorted out as Ranboo leant over the shorter’s shoulder, black and white hair tickling Tubbo’s forehead as Ranboo gasped and pushed just far enough away to see Tubbo’s face.

“Tubbo, why are there flowers in that toilet. Do you have *Hanahaki?*”

Tubbo froze for just a moment, before slumping and nodded defeatedly.

His heart broke as Ranboo pulled Tubbo back close to him again. “‘M s’ry.” He mumbled into Ranboo’s shoulder, ignoring the rapid fire pace of his heart.

“Tubbo, don’t apologize. Who is it? Cause we need to get you to tell them, or you’re going to *die.*”

(Would that be such a bad thing, at this point? He’d rather die than ruin what Ranboo and him had.)

“It’s.. someone.”

Ranboo sighed, then bent down and scooped Tubbo up, ignoring the other’s yelp.

(Oh my Prime oh my Prime oh my *Prime!* Ranboo was holding him so close, and burying his face into Tubbo’s curls, and Tubbo wasn’t breathing.)

As Ranboo lay Tubbo down onto the couch, the shorter took a gulp of air, immediately doubling over and hacking so hard he thought his organs were all going to fall out.

Ranboo was back at his side in an instant, one hand rubbing Tubbo’s back, and the other shifting him up to lean against the bicoloured boy. 

“You’re okay, you’ve got this. Just breathe Tubbo, *don’t stop breathing.*”

Panic bled through his calm tone in thick blotches, and a stab of guilt shot through Tubbo.

After a few moments, he slumped back into Ranboo’s side, freeing himself of all weight.

(Except for the weight of his heart, of course.)

When Ranboo spoke again, his words were significantly more urgent.

“Okay, who is it Tubbo? I need you to tell them. I can’t lose you, okay? You’re my best friend.”

And, despite the exhaustion flowing thick and syrupy through Tubbo’s veins, that sparked anger.

“That’s why I can’t say anything!” He shoved away from Ranboo, barely even feeling guilty for the bewildered look on Ranboo’s face.

“W-what do you mean, Tubs?”

“I mean that I can’t confess because that could ruin everything I have! You’re all I have, Boo.”

Ranboo’s confusion just grew, and Tubbo sagged, the anger washing away just as quickly as the tsunami had filled his veins.

“I can’t confess, because we’re *friends.* And that’s all we are.”

He watched, ruined, as it slowly dawned on Ranboo. As his very *soul* slowly realized everything that he meant to Tubbo.

Then, he turned, and stumbled away as fast as he could.

He didn’t even stop when Ranboo reached out a hand to stop him, only wrenching his shoulder away with adrenaline fueled strength and closing the door to his room.

All five locks went on, and Tubbo collapsed onto the bed.

By the time that Ranboo managed to break in, his best friend’s eyes were already sightless.

#dream smp #fanfic #dsmp #ao3 writer #writers on tumblr #sbi whumptober #tubbo #ranboo #beeduo #cranboo #ctubbo #cbeeduo #angst #whump prompt #whump #whump writing #whumpblr #emetophobia #tw vomit #tw emetophobia #hanahaki