#like fuck. phil telling him that he trusts him and cares about him before forever went to the nether meant the fucking world to him

[rakkuntoast]

i swear if qforever doesnt get a nice and healing reunion with richas and tallulah i am exploding that server myself

#txt post #cw caps #a shit ton of caps in the tags #HOW HARD IS IT TO WISH THIS CUBITO SOME FUCKING HAPPINESS #EVERY TIME I REMEMBER ABT FOREVER CUBITO I FEEL AWFUL MY LITTLE GUY HASNT HAD A BREAK IN SO LONG #MOSTLY CUZ PEOPLE CONSTANTLY GIVE HIM SHIT AND ISOLATE HIM SINCE HE'S THE FUCKING PRESIDENT NOW AND DONT EVEN TREAT HIM AS MUCH OF A FRIEND #ANYMORE AND JUST HOLD HIM AT ARMS REACH. HE FEELS ALONE AND HOPELESS #LITERALLY THE ONLY PEOPLE THAT STILL TREAT HIM LIKE THEY TREATED HIM BEFORE THE WHOLE PRESIDENT THING BULLSHIT IS HIS DAMN FAMILY AND PHIL #AND MAYBE BAGHS TOO I CANT REMEMBER #man feels like no one trusts him anymore cuz hes “part of the feds” when he's not actually as involved as people make it seem #literally the only official mission he has ever done for the feds was the whole go to the nether get lost lmao L bozo #his position in the federation can literally just be reduced to the one who represents the islanders as a whole in the eyes of the feds #like god every time someone refers to him by his actually name instead of “the president” an angel regains its wings #cuz yeah he has to carry the burden of his position but that doesnt mean im not allowed to complain that everyone is pushing him away for i #like fuck. phil telling him that he trusts him and cares about him before forever went to the nether meant the fucking world to him #“phil nailed it down in the minute what was happening. im glad i can rely on him” <- not verbatim but like. cmon

[k0za--k]

dude. DUDE. you don't understand YOU DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND

Ramón loves Fit, he cares about his dad more then anything. HE WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIM. and he's fully aware that Fit really, truly has only HIM. yes there's Phil and now Tubbo too. but Fit didn't tell them about his mission, he doesn't trust them, not quite like he trusts Ramón and they don't care about Fit like Ramón does. i would bet that this kid would willingly give one or even BOTH of his lives if it saved Fit. Ramón just wants to be happy. and he won't ever be unless Fit is. AND VICE VERSA. they both love each other so much. Fit stated multiple times that the mission will not bring harm to Ramón (and Pac), but if it somehow turned out otherwise. Fit would be done for. i'm 100% sure that at this point, Fit would give up his own freedom to save Ramón. even if he had to be thrown back into the hellscape that is 2b. "as long as Ramón is safe, i don't mind never seeing him again. as long as he's safe" [paraphrased]

"i just don't want you to be alone forever" this kid. this kid can read Fit so well. i'm sure he is somewhat aware that Fit has always been alone, how awful 2b is despite all the fascinating bed time stories Fit tells him. he can SEE all the scars on Fit's body, for fucks sake HE IS MISSING AN ARM. THAT SHOULD BE ENOUGH OF A TESTIMONY WHAT 2B IS LIKE and Ramón has EYES. he can see all the involuntary things Fit does. how hard it is for him to trust someone, the anxiety when Ramón is out of Fit's field of vision, the fear of death. his own or anyone else's. Ramón is too smart to not realise these things

BUT. Fit said Pac was there for him. that Pac was his support. FIT SAID HE LIKES PAC. he can see Fit actually likes Pac, that he cares for the Brazilian and Pac is cool! he and Mike hung out a LOT before the whole kidnappings started. and Pac was EXCITED when Ramón called him "future dad". Pac seemed like he HOPED it became truth. "you think so?" he looked HAPPY at the thought and Ramón sees a chance. a little spark of hope. for Fit to be happy. to have a second dad. to have a family. to BE happy

Ramón and Fit only have each other. and they are just a child and a men, both traumatised beyond belief. but they have each other. and they love each other more than anything

#i am so fucking unwell about them #you have no idea #“i would do anything” PEOPLE DIED. #FOR FUCKS SAKE I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THEY MEAN THE WORLD TO ME #qsmp fitmc #qsmp fit #qsmp ramón #qsmp ramon #hideduo #fitpac #< implied

[businessbois]

went back through the wips cuz of the ask game and here’s the opening to the third part of my hair dye series. you can really tell during which era of the smp it was written but it made me laugh

There’s a strange pink thing on the floor in front of him. 

It’s small and squishy-looking and Tommy kind of wants to punch it to see what would happen. He doesn’t. But the thought’s there, wriggling at the back of his mind like a brain worm.

Brain worm aside, the thing is still right in front of him and now it’s making noise. Little, incomprehensible babbles and grunts and clicks when its claws tap across the floor.

It’s a child. And a really ugly one at that.

This is the part where Tubbo or Wilbur or even Phil would knock him upside the head and hiss Tommy like he’s done something wrong, but Big Men value honesty and honestly… the kid’s butt ugly.

Half pink and fuzzy, and half bone white and looking like one of those rag dolls Tommy used to sew during war-times. 

Tommy blinks at it.

It stops its noises. It blinks back.

Tommy makes a face.

A different noise this time. Lighter and higher like little bumps in the air.

He does the face again, pulling his face into an exaggerated mas— caricature of itself. 

It gets louder. 

It’s laughing .

(For a second, his stomach feels something other than gaping emptiness.)

Michael, because that’s his name, Michael Underscore-Beloved, claps twice and promptly knocks himself over because babies are dumb with bad motor control, especially babies who only partially count as living.

Not for the first time since being abandoned in this mansion, Tommy wonders why Tubbo and Ranboo thought this was a good idea. In all reality, they probably didn’t, but really had no choice because Ranboo had a Syndicate meeting and Tubbo had to meet with Big Q about something and everyone else (and he means everyone —Foolish, Puffy, Eret, fucking Sapnap) was busy. It’s okay, Tommy can live with being the last choice, least trusted and most surveilled. He’s more of a danger to himself than anyone else these days. Then again—the brain worm wriggles insistently—sometimes he fails to care about who he’ll take down with him in this state.

Movement snaps him out of his thoughts. A chubby pink hand enters his field of vision. He flinches back, but Michael is surprisingly fast and strong for an undead toddler. The piglin’s fist closes around a small patch of hair at the front of Tommy’s head. Tommy sucks in a sharp breath.

Of course Michael would be curious about it. Just because Tommy doesn’t see it—even forgets about it sometimes—doesn’t mean that the shock of white at the top of his forehead is as clearly a taboo to other people as it is to him.

Michael's grip tightens ever so slightly and Tommy glares at the child.

Don't you dare.

Oh. He dares.

With the nerve of a kid being raised by god-killers, Michael Underscore-Beloved lets out the loudest giggle yet and yanks.

White hot pain blooms from the front to the back of Tommy's skull. He gulps down a harsh breath and digs his nails into his jeans, willing himself to stay grounded. Tubbo probably wouldn’t appreciate him scarring his child forever by having a full-blown zombie boy meltdown in front of him.

Remember what Puffy told you? Remember the breathing exercises you practiced? Remember the obsidian underneath your—

It doesn't even hurt anymore, really. Tommy's dealt with much, much worse than grabby piglin kids, but Prime, his chest feels like it's about to explode.

In the end, it’s Michael’s shrieking, bumpy laughter—something very much absent from that prison cell—that brings him back to the present.

He pries his eyes open, flexing stiff fingers and forcing breath back into his lungs, and stares down into the menace's half-empty gaze.

“Little shit,” he growls in a tone and inflection directly copied from The Blade.

Michael claps (something he seems particularly fond of doing) and parrots back, “Little shit."

Tommy’s eyes widen. The words are leaving his mouth before he even processes it.

“Wait, wait, wait, no, no, no, no,"  the syllables tumble clunkily off his tongue, awkward after years of disuse, almost as if his mouth has forgotten how to form around the foreign language.

"Shit," Michael growls. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit."

 -

yeah so it was a hair dye (which comes a little bit later) fic to go with the theme but it was also an uncle nephew bonding fic with some “tommy knows piglin cuz of techno” hc thrown in

[dr3amofagame]

uhhhh ,, , hi ??

i feel bad bc i havent been here in. LITERALLY forever lmao - hope you guys r all doing good!! ive been working on some stuff but it’s been pretty slow going, and school is also A Thing, so i definitely havent been writing as much as i’d like. 

as an apology, have this? really self-indulgent feel-good syndicate + c!dream centric oneshot bc i felt like writing this so u know. why not. 

tws: implied torture, abuse, self-harm, disordered eating, starvation mentions, prison arc themes - overall everything’s just blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mentions, not too much angst here for once! c!sam and c!quackity critical, sorry guys but we r still in the prison arc and they still r on their “fuck human rights” arcs. 

Dream leaves.

 It’s a surprise - or maybe it isn’t one, Niki isn’t quite sure. She’d never grown to quite trust the man, she knows, and she can’t really tell if the bitter twist of emotion that swells up her chest when Phil comes to her city with the news is betrayal or resignation - what can she say. She’s gotten more than her fair share of broken promises. They don’t exactly faze her anymore. 

 None of them seem all that surprised, save Techno, who entirely fails to hide the worry that flickers over his face when he calls the Syndicate meeting to officially inform them of what’s going on. She shares quick, careful glances with the other members when his back is turned - despite how many times he’s been burned, Techno still seems so adamant at holding onto every thread, trusting all too easily those who would use and leave him behind without a second glance. He can handle himself, she knows. Still, that’s not going to stop her from slapping Dream upside the head for being yet another worthless person to betray her friend’s forgiving nature. 

 Nothing much changes in the next few weeks. Niki has to admit, it’s strange without Dream around - he’d not been an ally, much less a friend before dipping completely, but he had been some sort of constant - and Niki is self aware enough to know that she misses him, a little, the same sort of way you might miss an old routine once it’s gone, if only for the familiarity. She still visits Techno and Phil with various baked goods, knowing that Phil would have his hands full just keeping Techno from running himself ragged - makes sure to check on Ranboo, whose nerves have inevitably returned with Dream’s disappearance. To be honest, she doesn’t worry as much as he does - ally or not, she’s spent enough time with the Dream that had left prison to expect that he won’t exactly be able to get himself very far should he come for the four of them, and doesn’t particularly care about he might pull with the rest of the server - if things get bad, she’s sure Phil and Techno will have it handled. She asks Phil, once, what happened, and he shrugs. 

 “I don’t know, mate,” he heaves a chest to the side, pulling out a stack of stone blocks that Niki gladly holds for him. “One day we woke up and he was just- gone. Everything. Was like he wasn’t ever there at all.” 

 Niki hums. “Why’d you think he’d do something like that?” 

 “If I could understand half of why Dream does what he does, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?” He smiles at her from behind a crate. “Shall we bring these things upstairs and start on dinner?” 

 Niki laughs, knowing that the conversation about Dream is over. “Of course, Phil.” 

Dinner is a welcome distraction; all of them have gotten better at cooking in recent months, between her baking and the veritable library of recipes Phil knows that she’s never even heard of, but Phil is still the only one she really trusts to hold his own behind the stove - Ranboo is still a little too nervous around water, and fire, and much of everything, and though Techno can be a perfectly capable cook, he’s been distracted as of late. She has a strong feeling that left to his own devices, he’d just grab a stack of steak and disappear for another few weeks, searching the server for information. 

 Honestly, she’s a little thrown off by his behavior - he’d not done anything like this with Tommy, if she remembers right, and had hardly seemed affected by Wilbur’s betrayal on the Sixteenth at all (then again, she was a little too lost in her own head to notice if he was.) She tosses her head over to ask Phil, who’s leaning over a few carrots he’s slicing to throw into the stew he’s making, and the man pauses, frowns. 

 “From what I know,” he starts, words slow, careful, “they’d spent three months in there together, and the conditions weren’t exactly- stellar. According to what Techno said, I’d assumed they had come to some sort of understanding.” He goes back to the carrots, expression dipping into shadow and out of sight. “Guess I was wrong.” 

 Niki hums. She can see it, sort of - spending months together with someone, no matter how insufferable, probably would end with some degree of attachment - she thinks back to plotting through sleepless nights with Jack, anger and grief leaving them simmering, crabs in the same pot of boiling water, remembers looking into his dead-eyed gaze and seeing her own stare back - and feels a brief pang of guilt. Besides, Techno is Techno. She’d never met someone so willing to forgive, understand, reach out despite everything that’s happened - for Dream to take advantage of that feels almost too obvious. Of course he would - what were they all thinking?

 “He’s Dream,” she says as if that explains everything, flipping open the oven door and feeling a wave of heat blast her face. Phil hums lowly, understanding. “I hope Techno will be alright.” 

 “He’s tough,” Phil cracks a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “And he has us on his side. He’ll get through.” 

 Niki opens her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the front door slamming open. Outside their quaint little cottage, the wind howls - it sounds like the beginning of a blizzard out there, flurries painting the world in a thick blanket of white. In the door, Techno strides into the entrance with loud, decisive movements, shutting the door loud enough to make the walls shake. Inadvertently, Niki finds her eyes drawn to the small pile of snow that he’s tracked into the house - Techno’s usually so careful to kick it all off on the porch, never liked it much when there was a pile of melting ice and snow dampening the floorboards and soaking into his shoes. He huffs harshly, stripping off a snow-dusted scarf from his face - a long, multicolored abomination that had been the product of her attempting to teach Ranboo how to knit. Phil has reached his side, hands splayed over his upper arms, eyes soft in the corners from concern. 

 “Techno, mate-” his tone is chiding but his movements gentle as he brushes snow off of Techno’s signature cloak, “you’ve gotten snow everywhere. What were you doing, dueling a blizzard?” 

 Techno shakes his head, not meeting Phil’s banter as usual, fur sticking up from the snow melted into it. His voice is gruff and holds little humor - unconsciously, Niki feels her shoulders tense. 

 “Phil, call a Syndicate meeting.”

 ---

 Phil, per usual, is unrelenting, so it’s not until a quick dinner and some hurried messages to their final member later that the Syndicate is gathered in their meeting room, Techno pacing the length of the room as they wait in their respective seats. He looks less frazzled than he did when he first entered the house, in part due to Phil’s sitting him down to eat and picking through his fur to smooth it out of its windblown spikes and tangles - Techno had grumbled at him to stop preening him, but looked a lot more relaxed by the time they were all finished with their food. Still, his ear flicks periodically, twitching toward ssome sound that Niki can’t hear, movements tighter and jerkier than she is used to. He’d always been a little flightier after the prison, but not quite like this - everything here feels like that but dialed up to eleven. Inexplicably, it reminds her of Dream. 

 “Techno?” Phil gestures towards his seat, prompting, and he settles into it with an obliging huff. 

 “Y’know, Phil, the code names are kinda pointless if we never use ‘em,” he says, words carrying no real heat - he looks back at the rest of them, lips thinning into a line. “Anyway. I called this meeting because I found a couple leads on Dream.” 

 “O-oh,” Ranboo stutters, tail lashing behind him. 

 “You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, mate,” Phil reminds him gently, a sentiment that Niki affirms with a determined nod. 

 “There’ve been some reports- rumors, really,” Techno says, calling their attention again, and they all turn towards him, “of increased activity around the prison again. The Warden spending more time on its grounds, movement seen around the walls and around the portal- so I decided to go check it out for myself.” 

 Niki frowns, and watches as Phil does the same beside her - Techno had seemed to avoid the prison if he could help it, save for when he went on the initial mission to break Dream out. It was no secret to them that he didn’t exactly like the place. 

 “We could’ve helped if you asked,” Phil reminds him, and Techno shakes his head. 

 “I know, Phil. It’s just- that place is bad news. I’d rather keep you guys away from there if I can-” his hand goes to his head with a poorly hidden wince. “Sorry, Chat’s a little- worked up, at the minute.” 

 “Sorry, we’ll stop interrupting you,” Niki says, cutting off Phil before he says anything else. “So you went to the prison?” 

 Techno takes a second to gather his thoughts, mumbling quietly in the way that usually means he’s telling off Chat. “Right- I decided to stake out the portal. The rumors were right- Sam has been hanging around there, entered and left the prison four times yesterday. And today-” he hesitates, expression visibly darkening. “This morning, about an hour after the Warden arrived, Quackity came to the prison and went through the portal. He left the grounds about six hours later.” 

 “Quackity?” Niki frowns, eyes flicking over to how Phil has stilled in his seat. “What is Quackity doing at the prison?” 

 Phil ignores her question, reaching towards Techno, something indiscernible in his gaze. “Mate…”

 “He smelled of blood when he left,” Techno says, words sharp, and Niki feels her heart skip a beat. “Warden left about half an hour after, and I came back here.” 

 Ranboo clears his throat, sounding tentative. “Okay,” he drums his hand on the table when they turn towards him, eyebrows drawn, “but what, exactly, does this have to do with, uh, Dream?” 

 Techno and Phil trade glances, one of their bouts of unspoken conversation that Niki’s grown extremely used to. They seem strangely hesitant, she notes internally, Phil looking towards Techno with a question written clearly in the planes of his face. Techno sighs, a long puff of air through his lips as he closes his eyes and turns his face towards the table. 

 “You know how Dream was- injured,” he starts slowly, looking back up at them. Niki shifts uncomfortably - of course she noticed, it was impossible not to - if not the bandages that peeked under his sleeves and the cuffs of his pants, then how skinny he’d been, all skin and bones curled up uncomfortably in a pile at the corner of Techno’s couch. She’d not know the extent, by any means, and had always assumed that they’d been self-inflicted - she’d been in a bad enough place on her own before to know how your head can make you want to hurt, sometimes, how eating food can feel like choking on sawdust and the world could feel so much smaller when focused into delicate pricks of pain. Phil’s eyes are trained on Techno - on his face, then on the pinkish raised skin of a still-healing scar along his forearm, and she feels understanding settle like a rock in her gut. 

 “The Warden had apparently been lettin’ Quackity into the cell to torture Dream for the revive book,” Techno trails off, eyes narrowed and seemingly fixed on a random point of the opposite wall. “By the time I go there, it’d been goin’ on for months.”

 “But wait,” Ranboo’s tail moves even more erratically behind him, “You mean you think he’s back- there? How?” 

 “He has to be back in the prison,” Techno points out. “I can’t imagine anyone besides him that the two of them are goin’ to just start torturin’- Sam had been iffy about the whole thing when Quackity started in on me. It has to be Dream in there again.” 

 “But how did he get in there, then?” Ranboo asks, visibly confused. “Last time it took the entire server to lock him up!”

 “There were no signs of a struggle,” Niki points out, matter of fact. “I believe you, Techno, but I don’t really know how they managed to drag him back so easily. I can’t imagine he was jumping at the chance to go back in there.” 

 Techno shakes his head with an uneasy sigh. 

 “I have a feelin’ of what might’ve happened,” he says quietly. “And I really hope that I’m wrong and he’s less of an idiot than I think he is.” 

 ---

 They set out to investigate - and maybe attack - the next day, Techno and Phil taking on the bulk of preparations as Ranboo stays behind. He’d been understandably uneasy about the whole mission, so they’d left him back by the Syndicate room to set off their pearls in case anything went wrong. (“By the end of the day,” Techno had said, giving Phil a look with the corner of his lip quirked upwards, “don’t be like Phil here and think I meant the end of the month, alright?”) They’d all be supplied with armor and weapons, thanks to Phil, but she’d been handed the bulk of their potions, arranged neatly in her inventory by type in case they’d be needed. She lingers in the back of the room as Phil and Techno chat amiably over the sound of making last minute repairs on their armor, listens to Techno’s ceaseless reminders for Phil to be careful, watches as they make sure that their stasis chambers are properly prepared should they need them.

 (She watches as Phil nudges Techno’s shoulder when he lingers behind a certain chair, empty as long as she’s been part of the Syndicate, the fountain behind it bubbling quietly without a pearl inside. Techno sighs, expression strange. 

 “Should’ve set him up with one,” he says, quiet, and Phil pats him on the back. 

 “You couldn’t have known, mate. We wanted to wait a little before telling him about the Syndicate, remember?” 

 Techno hums, noncommittal. “Still.”)

 They Nether travel to the site of Techno’s lookout, which ends up being a little shambling thing with dirt walls dug into a small hill looking towards the prison portal, having hardly enough space to fit the three of them. Phil looks at it with no small amount of apprehension, and Techno shrugs lightly, wearing an expression that makes Phil turn to him with a look that makes Niki break into giggles. Techno crosses his arms- “in my defense-” and Phil looks up at the dirt ceiling with a long-suffering sigh. 

 “You couldn’t have made this a little roomier, mate?” Phil asks, voice dry as kindling, and Techno raises his hands by his head. 

 “Hey hey, it’s discreet, it gets the job done, it’s perfectly structurally sound-” the sound of the leftmost wall crumbling, along with the cloud of dust that puffs from it and fills their tiny space, undermines the tail end of his statement and leaves him sputtering, Niki falling into another fit of quiet giggles. Underneath it all, Phil sighs again, raising his wings behind him. 

 “...these are going to take so long to clean out.” 

 To his credit, Techno looks sheepish. “Sorry, Phil.”

 They sober up quickly; Techno turns around to the opposite side of the hill, where he’s hidden some peepholes inside the dirt - Niki settles herself by one, leaning forwards to put her eye to it and catch a glimpse of the prison looming over the water. It’s been repaired since the breakout, she notes, the gaping hole in the roof completely gone and replaced with obsidian, as intimidating and undamaged as it had been before, if not more so. Phil makes a considering sound from behind her.

 “Same plan as last time?” He asks, and Techno shakes his head. 

 “They’ve probably reinforced it, and Dream’s blueprints won’t include anything new the Warden’s added. I wouldn’t be surprised if they moved Dream to a different location completely. We don’t want to draw too much attention, either, we were cutting it pretty close during the breakout.” He narrows his eyes. “I was thinking we’d try something a little stealthier, this time. “ 

 He gestures at Niki, who blinks back at him with wide eyes. 

 “You got a couple of invis potions for us?”

 She distributes the potions among them all, one regular and two splash potions of invisibility each, and Techno points towards the prison once she’s done. 

 “The most important thing is to get through the portal,” he says with a grim expression. “Worst comes to worst, once we’re inside we can always blast our way through - but gettin’ through that portal is our first priority.” 

 Phil narrows his eyes at him. “The portal is locked, though. We’ll need to follow someone else inside- and I’m pretty sure Sam uses pearls, so he’s out.” 

 Techno nods. “Which is why I’m bankin’ on the prison gettin’ another visitor today. We’ll just have to wait.” 

 Niki swallows. “Do you mean-”

 “Quackity?” Techno turns away, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m not totally sure, but he’s not exactly the type to just give up on his goals. He’s pretty predictable- an empire needs an emperor, always needs something new to rule- you know the type,” he says, tipping his head towards Phil. “He’ll be mad at Dream for disappearin’ on him and won’t miss the opportunity to prove he has the upper hand again. I’m not sure that he’s going to come today-”

 “-but you wouldn’t really be surprised, either,” Phil finishes for him, eyes steely with cold determination. “I trust your judgement, mate. Just stay safe- from what I’ve heard, Quackity has been...erratic.” 

 “When is he not,” Techno huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, Phil. Just be careful, both of you. Don’t get too close. And if things get messy- which is what we’re tryin’ to avoid, by the way- then don’t do anything too risky. Our priority is gettin’ in and out alive.” 

 “We can handle ourselves, Techno,” Niki reminds him with a small smile. “And Ranboo is there in case anything goes wrong.” 

 “Alright, then. Here’s the plan.” 

 ---

 It takes quite a long time for Quackity to arrive, long minutes that Niki spends fidgeting in the corner of the room, brushing her hands over seams of the netherite plates that Phil had shoved into her hands, back at the Syndicate room. The set is inexplicably light - not weightless, by any means, as it is still netherite, but not nearly as bulky as any set of netherite armor she’s owned or seen in the past. The runes are precise, lines thin and exact, written with graceful strokes of lapis. 

 “Phil’s the best metalworker I’ve ever met,” Techno tells her with a small grin, catching her in the middle of tracing what she can make out as an Unbreaking rune along the metal strapped to her forearm. “But then again, he’s had the time to practice.” 

 “Are you calling me old again?” Phil huffs, and Techno flashes a smile her direction before looking at Phil with a slight grin. 

 “Well, Chat is,” he says, lips twitching when Phil glares back. 

 “You can’t just blame Chat every time you insult me, you little shit,” Phil groans, and Techno only grins wider. 

 “Phil, my ad revenue,” he complains, a dramatic lilt to his voice that has Niki stifling a snort, and Phil’s glare only grows deadlier. 

 “You’ll have more than your ad revenue to worry about if you keep this up,” he mumbles, going back to keep watch at one of the peepholes and stilling as he does. “Shit- Techno, Quackity’s here.” 

 Techno straightens up, hindered slightly by the low ceiling of their room. “Alright- we all know the plan, right?” 

 Niki nods in the affirmative, pulling out a splash invis and letting it settle in her hand, the glass cool beneath her fingertips. She reaches into her inventory and lets her armor fade into it, takes a deep breath and watches as the two across from her do the same. She doesn’t wear armor often, but so close to the prison, feeling mining fatigue settling deep into her bones - she’s never missed the security it offers more. Techno keeps watch, waiting- drops his arm in a signal. Now. 

 Niki throws the potion at their feet, flinching back at the sound of shattering glass and feeling its effects seep into her skin. When she opens her eyes, she can’t see anything but the inside of the room that they’d holed themselves in and the faintest of wisps rising from where their feet must be, curling around the grass. 

 (Please let this work, she begs to no one in particular as they walk towards the prison. And if you can hear me- please keep us all safe.)

 She hardly breathes as they follow Quackity across the path, holding someone’s hand in her own - Phil’s, by the feel of it - careful to muffle her footsteps in the grass and stand still whenever Quackity’s eyes come a little too close. Thankfully for them, he seems focused, hardly stopping or looking around at all as he walks towards the prison’s portal, movements stiff as he walks forward. He punches the button on the wall particularly harshly, and Sam’s voice comes crackling through a speaker a second later. 

 “I’m here for my visit,” Quackity says, punctuating the sentence with a snort of laughter that doesn’t sound particularly sincere. Niki hasn’t seen him in a long while, not after everything that happened in Pogtopia, and she feels a chill worm down her spine - this man looks nothing like the one that had laughed and danced and sung at her birthday party what feels like an eternity ago. What happened? 

 Sam sighs, the sound turning into a sharp burst of static through the speakers. “Hello Quackity,” he says, voice deep and tired. “Please step into the portal after I tell you to and then wait on the other side.” 

 “I know the drill, Sam,” Quackity rolls his eyes. “Just because the bastard was gone for a few weeks doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how this damn place works.” 

 “Just going through protocol, Quackity,” Sam replies, and something about this response has Quackity exploding into a brief fit of laughter, the sound grating against Niki’s ears. She feels her grip tighten on Phil’s hand, air caught in her throat. 

 “Protocol- ha. Whatever you wanna tell yourself, pal.” Quackity smiles, cold and cruel, and Niki tries not to think about how she’d seen that same grin on Wilbur, eyes sparkling from the light of the lanterns hung from the bridges and walls of their ravine, remember how she’d looked into them and realized her old friend wasn’t there, anymore. Quackity disappears into the portal, and after a second, the hand around her own pulls her inside of it too.

 On the other side, Quackity taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms and waiting- Sam’s voice comes through the speakers again, words clipped. 

 “Go through the portal,” he says, and Quackity does- once again, they wait for a second for his body to disappear, then go within it themselves, pressed close enough together within its frame for Niki to feel the warmth of a wing wrap around her shoulders for a quick second before they’re out of the hot, stifling air of the Nether and into a large, neatly made lobby of blackstone and quartz. They duck into a corner, watching as Quackity moves towards the front counter, the Warden waiting there with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks- tired. His movements are slow, footsteps loud against the floor, shoulders tense and back hunched. He walks around the counter, sword strapped to his belt, and Niki feels her breath hitch at the sight of dried blood still stuck to the blade in patches and splatters.

 “He ready?” Quackity asks, holding his hands out - Niki catches a flash of metal as Sam drops something into them, watches as Quackity raises what ends up being a pair of shears, dangerous-looking and gleaming with enchants, to the light. 

 “Yes,” Sam says, side-eyeing Quackity with a small glare. “You know, it’s supposed to be your job to clean those things off when you’re done with them.”

 “I told you, busy day back in Las Nevadas yesterday,” Quackity waves a hand- “I’ll do it, alright? Don’t get all pissy now. What happened to being partners?” 

 “You said we’d be done with this months ago, Quackity,” Sam sighs, and Niki feels a light tug on her arm as Quackity and Sam begin to walk towards the wall to the right of them, breathes in slow and deep as she follows Techno and Phil towards the others. The wall yawns open with the hiss of redstone firing and pistons pulling blocks upwards, opening into a dark hallway that feels like entering the maw of some sort of giant, insatiable beast. They step inside as one, and the door shuts behind them. 

 “We’ll be done soon enough,” Quackity says, and Niki feels hairs rising on the back of her neck. “Trust me.” 

 They stalk forwards through a labyrinth of blackstone, Niki brushing the palms of her hand against her clothes when it goes clammy from adrenaline. Halfway through, she pauses to tip back a second potion of invisibility, careful to keep her movements slow and steady as not to make a sound - the liquid is silvery, cool and light on her tongue, and she lets the effects wash over her with her breath caught in her lungs before moving forward. The tunnels are simpler than she’d expected, bearing little obstacles or checkpoints - Quackity makes a wry comment a second after (“Guard tunnels today, huh? Appreciate the hustle, pal-”) that confirms her suspicions. Despite the potion particles still whirling around their bodies and the sounds of their footsteps, too loud in her own ears, they manage to make it forwards without much trouble, entering a large room with a doorway filled completely with a curtain of lava. 

 “Set your spawn,” Sam says, still stoic, and Quackity rolls his eyes again before doing as told. Niki keeps looking back at the lava flowing past the wall, its heat filling the room and making her already slick palms even worse, and Sam moves to the side to flick a lever, eyes trained on the lava slowly bubbling in front of him. 

 “Give me your tools?” Quackity asks, and Sam sighs before doing so - Niki watches as he hands over a netherite axe, then potions, then a few raw potatoes that Quackity accepts and puts into his inventory. Sam raises an eyebrow once he’s done, hand tight around the handle of his trident. 

 “You bring your own sword, today?” He asks, seeming irritated, and Quackity shrugs. 

 “Sorry pal, I need to make a new one. Guess I’m borrowing yours again.” 

 Sam sighs again, louder, and hands over his sword as well, watching as Quackity swings it a few times experimentally. The blade skims a little too close to her on one swing and she can’t quite help the squeak that escapes her lips as she throws herself out of the way, feels her heart hammer in her ears as she backs up against the wall. Please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that-

 “Quackity, wait.” Sam raises a hand, ear twitching as he looks over in her direction with narrowed eyes. “I think I heard something.”

 Oh fuck.

 “Well, guess show’s up then,” Techno drawls, and both of them whirl towards his voice, giving Niki enough time to pull her armor back on, scrambling to get her sword and shield in her hands as Phil does the same besides her. Pieces of armor appear where Techno is standing, then a bucket of milk- oh, why must her friends be so dramatic- and Techno’s standing there, smiling sharply, with Orphan Obliterator held loosely at his side. “Let’s get this done, then.” 

 As one, Techno and Phil blur into action - Techno moves forward to catch the prongs of Sam’s trident on his blade as Phil parries Quackity’s blows with his own sword- they move fluidly, easily covering each other’s backs as the room devolves into chaos. Niki remembers their guidance as she flits in and out of the fight, scoring quick hits to keep the Warden and Quackity off balance while remaining out of range from their weapons, and it’s not long before both of them have fallen with a spray of items and experience orbs scattered all over the floor. 

 Techno moves over to block off the exposed face of the bed with a block, looking over at the two of them with an uncharacteristically severe expression. “They’ll be back soon- we have to move fast. Niki, you have those fire res, right?” 

 She nods as she reaches into her inventory, finding the potion’s orange-pink glow and smashing it at their feet. They dive into the lava together, Niki scrambling to keep up, her arms struggling to move through the thick lava, loses sight of both until she flails into something directly in front of her and hands are pulling her up out of the lava. 

 “There you go, mate,” Phil smiles down at her as hauls herself to her feet, making a face at the feeling of the lava clinging to her clothes. “Yeah, swimming through lava isn’t exactly fun. You good?” She flashes him a thumbs up, and he laughs- “Niki, you’re still invisible.” She flushes pink- right.

 A few sips of milk later, she gives him a proper thumbs up, and he laughs, loud and bright. She looks past him to where Techno’s crouched over something- someone, she realizes with a start, in the corner. Dream’s back in prison clothes, ragged and ill-fitting, and he’s curled up with his back towards the front of the cell, shaking enough to be obvious even from where she’s standing. Techno speaks lowly, voice barely more than a deep rumble in the air, almost inaudible.

 “You there, Dream?” 

 She watches as Dream turns his head, looking up with wide, bleary eyes. His hair flops in front of his face, and something within her itches to brush it out of the way. “T-Techno?”

 “Yeah nerd, who else?” Techno smiles, and Dream seems to blink awake, drawing himself up with a shuddery breath. 

 “Techno- it’s a trap- what are you doing here?” he hisses, and Techno gives him a look, deadpan.

 “Yeah, yeah, it’s a trap- come on, Dream, we’ve been over this by now, bro. You have to know that their traps aren’t goin’ to do anything to me by now,” Techno rolls his eyes, reaching forward to steady his hands on Dream’s shoulders when the other man sputters and struggles to breathe. “Easy, now. Geez, you wanted to prove me wrong about being homeless bad enough that you came back here? We could’ve just made you a house, you know. You didn’t have to go this far.” 

 “I- they were gonna kill you,” Dream breathes, face twisted up uncomfortably, and his eyes flick past Techno’s face to where Phil and Niki are standing at the opposite wall of the cell. “All of you- they said-”

 “And that’s what I thought you’d say,” Techno groans. “Come on, you idiot, I thought you were smarter than this-” 

 “They were right there, Techno!” Dream fires back, eyes alight. “You- they were right there, what were you thinking, they could’ve-!”

 “And my best friend is a necromancer, remember?” Techno shakes his head. “Come on, Dream- Sam and Quackity? You know we can handle them in a fight, especially when you can just revive us if anything goes wrong. You don’t have to do this whole self-sacrifice thing, bro- there’s only so many times I can break into the same prison, y’know.” 

 “You’re so stupid,” Dream huffs, but he leans in anyway, head just barely settling against Techno’s shoulder. “I- I can’t believe. You’re so dumb.” 

 “Hey, don’t be sayin’ that to the guy that’s breakin’ you out of prison,” Techno laughs, slinging Dream over his shoulder with an easy motion and laughing harder when it makes him yelp. “That’s just bein’ ungrateful. You’re making Chat sad, man, and when they’re sad they don’t subscribe-” 

 “I regret this entirely,” Dream says, voice muffled against Techno’s shirt, tone completely flat. “Put me down- you idiot- I’m staying here. You’re worse than Quackity.” 

 “Rude. Now you’ve really made Chat mad. I demand an apology-” 

 “Boys, boys.” Niki can’t help giggling, watching the way their gazes snap towards her, rolling her eyes as she moves forward with a few potions held loosely in her hand. “Dream, do you want a health pot?” 

 Dream seems to deliberate for a second, before nodding at her, expression slightly strained. “...sure.” 

 “You two can finish your argument after we’ve broken out of the biggest maximum security prison on the server,” Phil drawls from behind her, arms crossed at his chest. “Come on, now, before Sam gets back.” 

 “Isn’t this the only maximum security prison on the server?” Techno asks aloud, an amused expression on his face - one that only gets worse when Phil glares at him with one ice-blue eye. 

 “Shut-” he sighs, shaking his head. “You two are chaotic little shits, you know that?”

 “Don’t compare me to him, Phil,” Techno complains, Dream mirroring his words with muffled protests of his own, and Phil breathes another drawn-out, long-suffering sigh as he rubs at the bridge of his nose. 

 “Niki, give us some fire res please?” 

 She finds the potion bottle between giggles, throwing it to the ground as she tries to choke down the laughter rapidly bubbling up her throat. “Of course, Phil.” 

 She looks back at Techno and Dream before jumping into the lava, the two of them once again lost in some sort of argument, Dream draped over Techno’s shoulder. He’s breathing easier now, she notes, and Techno looks looser too - a little less tense, leaning back with a perpetual quirk to the corner of his lip as they fire insults back and forth. This is familiar, she recognizes with a soft twist in her chest, the same way that Phil and Techno can finish each other’s sentences and look at each other with laughing eyes sharing the same memories of the past, the same way Ranboo watches Techno’s every step as he adjusts his stance and lifts his sword and Techno laughs and calls him a main character in turn, the same way she and Phil will settle together on the porch over cups of tea and sit at each other’s sides for hours. The rhythm between them is one well-established, the road well-worn - she imagines them, huddled in this dingy cell for months together, and breathes in slow and deep. 

 “Come on,” she smiles, making sure to keep it on her face when Dream meets her eyes with wide, startled ones of his own. Dream still isn’t an ally, and isn’t a friend. 

 But - she watches as he smiles back, something inexplicably warm in her chest - maybe, one day, he could be.

#tw torture #tw abuse #tw self harm #tw disordered eating #tw ed #tw sh #prison arc #pandora's vault #tw starvation #c!sam critical #c!quackity critical #my writing :D #> my writing

[onecanonlife]

Wilbur wakes up one morning to find white in his hair. This is—irritating, for several reasons, but that’s all it is. An annoyance. A distraction.

There’s nothing deeper at work here. There’s nothing wrong at all.

(Or, the stresses of the presidency give Wilbur a white streak of hair earlier in canon, and somehow, this serves as the cry for help he can never bring himself to make.)

(word count: 6,249)

(first part) (third part) (fourth part)

——————–

Part Two

He tries to pen a letter to Phil. It’s more difficult than he remembers.

Dear Phil, he starts, and that’s good, that’s fine. All is well here in L’Manberg, he continues, and that’s good too. But from there, he’s stumped. What next? What does he tell him about? This is the part where he’d launch into a cute story, something Fundy got up to, or some trouble Tommy caused. But nothing comes to mind. Nothing recent, anyway. But the last letter he sent to Phil was—a month ago? Two, now? So he needs to write, because Phil’s far from a helicopter parent, but he still likes to know what he’s up to. Will still worry, if he gives him a reason to.

So, he needs to finish a letter. Needs to stop procrastinating.

He could write about Niki’s bakery. He can’t remember if he told Phil about it or not. He probably hasn’t, not if it’s truly been that long since his last missive. So he sets his pen to work, scratching out a few more sentences, and he reminds himself that he doesn’t need to be overly verbose. Phil doesn’t need an essay. Just a paragraph or two to assure him that he and everyone else are well, that he’s having fun, that he’s thriving.

Telling him about the bakery will work for that. Except, then, after a bit, he ends up writing, It eases my mind to visit. Truly, it’s one of the only places I let myself relax, and—no. No, that won’t do. That will make him sound as though he’s stressed, and he doesn’t want Phil to worry about that. There’s nothing Phil can do about it, and he couldn’t stand it if the admission led his father to think any less of him. He’s not going to—to start complaining to him. That would be ridiculous.

So he scratches the line out and continues on, except then, he writes, I worry that I’m shirking my responsibilities, but then, I’m probably doing that anyway, simply by virtue of not being, and he stops before he can finish that sentence, because, no. Simply, no. He is absolutely not telling Phil that.

He bites his lip. He’s already scratched out enough that he’ll probably need to start an entirely new draft anyway.

He sets the tip of the pen to paper.

I’m exhausted, he writes, but my mind won’t allow me to rest. Too many shadows in too many dark corners, I suppose. Too many thoughts circling. It’s like a hurricane in my head, and I should be in the eye, but I think the storm wall has caught me. I’m tossing in the air, at the wind’s mercy, and I’m afraid of what will happen when I fall.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I ever assumed that I did. And I feel afraid, because my inadequacies are failing everyone around me. I have to protect them, have to keep them safe, but sometimes I close my eyes and see everything aflame, or I see Dream and his friends flooding into the Final Control Room. We were betrayed, there. I’ve never told you this, but we all lost a life. Me, Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy. I couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Somehow, I never thought that dying would be terrifying for me, considering who my mother is, but it is. I was so scared, and I still am.

I think I’m a disappointment. I think that if this country fails, it will be my fault, and it will only be right if I go down with it. My people have little faith in me, and they’re right not to, but I can’t bring myself to step down, because at the end of the day, I’m addicted to the power and responsibility. I’m nothing without it. If I can’t manage this, then how can I deserve the trust and faith that others have placed in me?

Most days, I think that everyone hates me. Most days, I think they’re right to do so. I can’t trust anyone. Not completely, not fully, no matter how much I love them. I feel very alone.

He stops writing. Reads it over. Feels his lips quirk up into a wry smile. He’s certainly not sending that.

But the smile fades away after a moment. He supposes that he hoped writing it all out would make him feel better, but if anything, he feels more tired. Drained. Wrung out. Blank.

He fishes around for a new, unmarred sheet of paper.

Dear Phil, he writes, All is well here in L’Manberg. The city is thriving, and my people are well. I really do want you to visit sometime—but not yet, of course! We’ve been having a spot of trouble with creeper holes lately, and I don’t want that to be your first impression. Between you and me, it’s just a little bit embarrassing.

It’s been a while since I last wrote. I do apologize for that; I don’t know where the time goes. There’s always so much to be doing, and I’m more and more thankful for this chance every day. It’s a lot of fun, having a country of our own, and we’re all working to make it as good as it can be. You should see Niki’s bakery—you haven’t tasted heaven until you’ve tasted something Niki’s baked, I swear. She’s a goddess, really, an essential pillar of our society. Baked goods make the world go round.

Tommy and Tubbo are well, and getting into just as much trouble as usual. Fundy grows up more and more every day. I’m so proud of them all.

Be careful of undead infants, and tell Technoblade I said hello, if you get the chance.

All love,

Wilbur

He sets down his pen and rereads. He’s satisfied with that, and more importantly, Phil will be as well. Now all that’s left is to let the ink dry and—

“Hey, boss man,” Tubbo says, opening the door to his office without knocking. He startles, violently. “How’re things coming?”

His heart shouldn’t be racing. It’s just Tubbo. But he came in without warning, which is—irritating. It’s irritating. That’s what it is. He feels himself flushing, just slightly, but surely it’s annoyance.

“There’s a lot of ‘things’ you could be referring to,” he says. “Are you going to be a little more specific?”

“Nah,” Tubbo says, meandering further into the room. But it’s not a regular meander, it’s a Tubbo sort of meander, which means that he’s here for a purpose. He just doesn’t want to reveal it just yet, or perhaps he’s figuring out how he wants to approach it. “Just wanted to know about general things. Big, vast things. Deep things.”

“Deep things,” he repeats, nodding. “Not much of that going on at the moment. Not a lot of deep things in paperwork.” He pulls the nearest sheet of paper closer to him; technically, that’s what he ought to be doing, not writing letters to a father that’s worlds away. He scans the words; it looks like something complicated about trade, something that sets his head to pounding already. The words swim, like they’re dancing, like they’re taking glee in the way he can’t comprehend them.

“I thought there were lots of deep things in paperwork,” Tubbo says, and he looks back up. “I thought that’s why the print is always so small.”

“Maybe,” he says.

“It makes sense to me,” Tubbo says. “Wilbur, is your hair really white?”

He freezes. “What?”

“Niki said that your hair is turning white,” Tubbo says. “Like an old man’s.”

Anger flares. He thought—he didn’t like that she found out about it, but he at least thought he could trust her with it. Thought that she would keep it to herself, that she wouldn’t let it spread to others, to others that might take it and try to use it as a knife to his jugular. But here is Tubbo, and Tubbo is so obviously staring at his hair, eyes flicking across his forehead and around his ears, and he won’t see anything. He double-checked when he arrived at the office; all of the white is under his hat. But he doesn’t like that Tubbo is looking, that Tubbo is actively trying to see, that Tubbo is treating him like some kind of curiosity, and that Tubbo surely must have some sort of opinion and that opinion cannot be anything but—

“Niki said that hair can turn grey or white if a person is very stressed,” Tubbo says, casually. “Are you very stressed, Wilbur?”

Oh—oh, fuck. Is that actually a thing that happens?

“I told her, it was a bad dye job,” he mutters, glancing back down at his paper. The words remain incomprehensible, but he’s not focusing on it. He nudges his pen with his finger, latching onto the light clicking sound it makes as it rolls and then comes to rest.

“Yeah?” Tubbo asks doubtfully. “What, were you trying to dye your hair white?”

He grits his teeth. “Was there something you needed, Tubbo?”

“Nothing I needed, really,” Tubbo answers. “I just wanted to see how you’ve been doing. Seems like forever since you came out of this office. Do you live in here now or something?” He keeps talking before Wilbur can reply, which is just as well, since he might as well live here, considering the state of his room. “And I think I’ve got a new design for a TNT cannon. Kind of streamlined, you might say, if you wanted to check it out. But I think you should just come and hang out with me and Tommy sometime. You never really do that anymore.”

He has a few feelings about TNT cannons. He doesn’t think about TNT too often, because when he does, his mind fills with fire and smoke, and his heart starts beating faster, climbing into his throat, and he wants to run, wants to run far and fast and away, wants to sit and shake until his body can’t move anymore, even when he knows very well that nothing around him is exploding, that his country is secure and his friends are safe. But some days, he can’t so much as smell smoke without a memory rising up to overwhelm him.

Once, he found himself zoning out in the middle of a conversation, a nearby campfire taking him far away from himself, and be barely returned in time to cover for his lapse.

He’s not a fan of TNT cannons, and he can’t bring himself to pretend to be, not even for the sake of Tubbo’s enthusiasm. And—

Hanging out with him and Tommy sounds nice. He misses them, he admits, and some part of him misses the old days, the first days and weeks and months on the server, when it was them and a dream and his fingers dancing on the frets of his guitar, his voice strong and steady and hopes high on the wind, words ready at his lips and Tommy a force of chaos at his back and Tubbo clever and quick by his side, and he just—misses it. Misses them. Misses it all, misses the days before so much was riding on his shoulders.

But he hasn’t the time.

“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” he says, and tries on a smile. “I’m a bit busy right now. Take a rain check?”

“Sure,” Tubbo says, and shrugs. “Later, then. You say that a lot, though, do you know that?”

He winces. Tubbo smiles. He means no harm. Probably. He thinks he would know if Tubbo meant him harm.

And then, Tubbo leaves, and the tension leaves him all in a rush, leaving him—exhausted. Exhausted, and near tears, for some reason, but he blinks those back. That can wait. He doesn’t cry in his office. That’s unprofessional; anyone could walk in on him, and then where would he be?

What was he doing before Tubbo came in?

Right. The letter. He glances it over, scoops it up, and tucks it away in an envelope. He’ll chuck it at the next crow he sees.

---

It’s Tommy who barges in next, a day later, though at least this time, he’s somewhat expecting it. Because if Tubbo knows, then Tommy knows. That is simply the way of the world. He has a difficult time imagining anything ever coming between those two, even information that would be better kept to oneself.

“Why the fuck is Tubbo going on about your hair, then?” Tommy says, with no preamble, and despite himself, Wilbur smiles. That’s Tommy, all the subtlety of a charging bull. And the question is just as irritating as it was yesterday when it came from Tubbo, but he’s more prepared for it this time. He looks up from his work—work that he’s actually doing, at the moment, and he feels rather proud of himself for it—and meets Tommy’s gaze squarely.

“I’ve had an unfortunate encounter with some hair dye,” he says. “The hair dye won.”

“What the fuck?” Tommy says, but there’s already a laugh in his eyes. Good. Tommy is fairly easily deflected, he’s learned. Because Tommy looks up to him, he knows, and that means he’ll willfully look away from any evidence suggesting that perhaps he is not worthy of admiration after all.

It makes him sick, the way he’s thinking about it. Makes him feel like he’s using Tommy, somehow, taking advantage of his affection, when really, that’s the last thing he wants to do. Tommy is his little brother, his little brother by choice, by years spent on the road together, by hushed conversations in the dead of night as the stars bear witness, by all the little intricacies they’ve learned about each other as time continues to pass. Tommy is his little brother, which means it’s his job to protect him, as best he can. He’s done a piss-poor job of that lately. Tommy only has one life left now.

So he can’t fail him again. And perhaps it’s selfish of him, but he doesn’t want Tommy to think he’s failed, either. If it ever turns out that Tommy hates him, he thinks it might kill him.

“Can I see?” Tommy asks, and he prepared for this, too, braced for it. With a long-suffering sigh, he sweeps his hat off his head and angles his face forward, letting Tommy take a good look.

“Satisfied?” he asks.

“Holy shit,” Tommy says. “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“Very impressively,” he says, and puts his hat back on. He’s sure to tuck all the white back under it. It’s a practiced motion, by now. “Or perhaps not very impressively, as it were.”

“Well, it looks sick,” Tommy says, and Wilbur glances at him immediately. He doesn’t seem like he’s lying. He seems almost—impressed? But he sees him looking right away, and immediately backtracks. “Sick as in disgusting, obviously. It makes you look old. Like an old, old man.”

Tommy’s joking, of course, is all bluster and smoke, no fire. But something in his chest stings, and he realizes that the words hurt, and more than that, they hurt because it’s an echo of what he tells himself. He doesn’t like to look in the mirror anymore—though he never did to begin with, actually—but he is well aware of what he looks like. The white hair is just one more symbol of his failing faith, his lack of ability to handle the job that he set himself out to take in the first place. He should be able to do this, and yet, he can’t, and the white hair—well.

After what Tubbo said, it can only mean that he’s weak. Physical proof of his incompetence. That’s really the only way to look at it.

“Shut the fuck up, child,” he says. “Why don’t you go and find a juice box to drink?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Tommy says, and the song and dance is familiar. Tommy rolls his eyes at him—the disrespect in this house is unbelievable—but he turns to go, and that means that Wilbur’s won.

What he’s won, he doesn’t know. Some more self-disgust, maybe. That’s what it feels like.

Lying to Niki. Lying to Tubbo. And now, lying to Tommy. What a stunning specimen of humanity he is. Working through them all like he has a checklist.

And then, Tommy stops in the doorway and looks back.

“Wilbur?” he asks. “You really are alright, aren’t you?”

And that gives him pause. Tommy’s not supposed to ask him that question. If anything, he’s the one who’s supposed to be asking Tommy that.

“It’s just that,” Tommy continues, “I don’t see you around so much, these days. Except for when there’s a problem, and you come out to try and solve it with, with your words and shit. Diplomatic shit, innit? You do that, but you don’t just—you never come to just spend time with us anymore, like how it used to be. And I just sort of miss that, you know? So I was thinking that maybe we could try and do that again, sometime soon? Just, hanging out, like the good old days?”

The good old days.

He doesn’t quite have the heart to tell Tommy that the good old days are long over, that they have been long over since the day Sapnap came to arrest them all for starting a drug empire and the forest around them was set ablaze, since the day they declared independence from the Dream SMP, since the day he in all his naivety declared that all they had to do was ignore the conflict and it would pass them by, since the day he was proven so very, very wrong. Since the day he learned that as much as he values his words, his diplomacy, his efforts toward nonviolence, some people only recognize power in iron and steel.

Since the day he watched his men, his comrades, his family die around him, and knew that he led them to that fate. Since the day Tommy traded his life and then his discs for their independence, and he knew that he couldn’t do a thing to help.

The good old days are long gone. The good old days belong to a different version of him, one that was young and hopeful and stupid, one that had no idea what he was getting into. And he likes to think that he’s still hopeful, that he still strives for a better future, but—

He’s learned. Nothing comes easy, here. There will be no more halcyon summers. The days are getting colder, and there will be no more rest.

“Sure,” he says, and this lie tastes far more bitter than all the rest. “I’d like that.” He gestures at his desk. “I’ve been really busy, but I would like to spend time with you. I’ll let you know when I can, alright?”

And Tommy believes him. He sees it in his answering smile, and he hates himself.

“Sounds good, big man,” Tommy says. “See you later then, yeah?”

“See you later,” Wilbur agrees, and then Tommy, too, is gone. He’s alone in his office, with his duties and his thoughts, and neither of them are kind.

Not that he thinks himself deserving of much kindness.

---

He waits two weeks before visiting the bakery again. It’s not completely intentional; he doesn’t have much time to get away anyhow. But part of it certainly is. He doesn’t want to come again so soon, doesn’t want to know how Niki’s going to look at him, doesn’t want her to poke and prod at something that isn’t important, that is a minor, irritating detail. He doesn’t want to discuss it, and he thinks that Niki might try, so he stays away.

But not forever. He can’t bring himself to take so drastic a step, even if his visits are a bit of a distraction. One that, perhaps, he can’t really afford.

So he steps inside and immediately wants to backtrack, because Niki’s not the only one here. Fundy and Jack Manifold are both sat at the counter, and both of them are looking at him now, having swiveled in their seats to watch his entrance. And that means he can’t leave, because if he leaves without saying anything, they’ll ask him why he did that, and he’ll have to make up something to avoid admitting that he’s been a little bit terrified of interacting with people lately. Because absolutely no one can know that.

Because it’s stupid. Pathetic. He’s pathetic, and he’s become quite accustomed to that word. It seems to live in his head now, like it’s made a nest in his brain, a little roost. Pathetic. Everything he does feels pathetic to him, and probably to everyone else around him.

“Oh,” Jack Manifold says. “Hi, Wilbur. Didn’t expect you in.”

Fundy doesn’t say anything. Just blinks at him, tail swishing. He finds that he doesn’t know what to say. But he needs to think of something, some reason for being here, and if he can manage it, some excuse for extricating himself quickly. The silence has gone on just a little too long, and he’s been standing in the doorway for a full five seconds now, and he needs to come in completely because it’s weird, what he’s doing, and they’re going to call him on it.

And then, Niki pops her head between the two of them, leaning far over the counter, resting practically all of her weight on it.

“Wil!” she says, and smiles. “I’m glad you came! I’m making honey bread, and I know you like that.”

And just like that, he relaxes. Not completely, but to ask that of him would be to expect the impossible. It’s enough.

“I do,” he agrees, and steps further in, letting the door close behind him. “Seems I have good timing.”

The tension in the air—imagined or real? He’s not sure—dissipates. Jack grins at him, raising a glass of—probably not alcohol? He doesn’t think Niki keeps alcohol stocked in here, or at least, none other than the cooking variety. Might be milk. And Fundy still doesn’t say anything, but his tail keeps twitching, and his eyes keep darting between him and the empty stool next to him, and he really hopes that’s an invitation, because that’s how he’s going to take it.

He slides onto the seat, letting his coat fall behind him. His hat, he keeps on. He’s not laying his face on the counter today. Not with other people here. He probably wouldn’t have anyway, tempting though it is. He always feels sleepier in here. It’s probably the warmth.

But he won’t fall asleep.

Niki’s gone back over to the ovens, inspecting her bread. He can smell it on the air, fresh and sweet, and his stomach twists. Has he eaten today? He’s not sure that he has. Though he definitely did yesterday—evening. He thinks. Definitely. A couple apple slices shoved in his mouth, swallowed without really tasting them. But it counts.

“What have you two been up to lately?” he asks. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not too much,” Jack Manifold answers easily. “Mostly been hanging around Tommy and Tubbo. Getting into mischief, you might say. Nothing too serious or anything!” he is quick to add, seemingly remembering exactly who he’s talking to. “Nothing—I mean, nothing illegal, no, sir. Not us. But, you know, it’d probably be best not to share the details.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Fair enough,” he says. “As long as it’s not something that I’m going to have to clean up later.”

“We’ve already cleaned up,” Jack says.

“Good.” He looks at Fundy, and affection blooms in his chest, sudden, almost overpowering. His boy’s grown up of late. He can barely remember it happening. It seems that only yesterday he came up knee-high, and now, he’s a man in his own right. But still his little champion, always. “How about you? I know we haven’t been fishing yet. I’m sorry—you know that’s the first thing on my list when I finally get a bit of time.”

Fundy glances away. “I know,” he says. “I’ve been fine.”

“I’m glad,” he says, and Niki saves him from having to say anything else—though why he thinks of it as a rescue, he isn’t sure—by walking back over and placing some bread on the counter before them.

“Fresh from the oven,” she says, “so it’s hot. Be careful.”

It smells nothing short of divine. Niki smiles, pleased, as Fundy and Jack reach for a piece right away, and he isn’t far behind them. Though he tries to be a little more neat about it than the other two are being. The way they’re digging in, he’d think that they’re starving. Frankly, he can’t blame them for it, not when it’s Niki’s food on the line, but he still tries to have a bit more decorum.

“Niki,” Jack says, mouth full, “you are an angel among mere mortals.” Fundy doesn’t say anything, but his tail is swishing happily.

Niki rolls her eyes, and takes a bit of bread for herself. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she admonishes. “But thank you, Jack.” And then, her gaze drifts to him, and he finds himself stiffening. For no reason. It’s Niki. It’s just Niki. He trusts Niki. She’s basically his best friend, and he’s comfortable here. He is. This is a place of safety, as much as there are such places to be found. Safety, true safety, is not a thing that exists, not really. But here is as close as he can get to it.

Why can’t he let himself unwind?

Is it because Jack and Fundy are here? He hopes not; that wouldn’t be fair to them. They are his countrymen, his citizens, and more than that, Fundy is his son. What would that say about him as a parent, if being around his child makes him nervous? Not just nervous in a I-hope-I-don’t-fuck-up-my-kid way, but in a I-don’t-feel-safe-here way?

But his shoulders are stiff, slightly hunched. He can’t force them down. So he has to hope it’s not too obvious, that the lines of his coat disguise the hard set of his posture, a stance that indicates he thinks there’s a threat, if they know how to read him right. Which they shouldn’t. They shouldn’t.

“How about you, Wil?” Niki asks, and he takes another bite of bread. Small, so as not to get crumbs everywhere, and he swallows before answering.

“It’s as good as always,” he says. “Do I have to say it?” Though it sits heavier in his stomach than usual, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m glad,” she says. “It’s been a little while since the last time I saw you. You are eating properly, right?”

It’s concern, not an accusation, no matter how misplaced. The question shouldn’t raise his hackles. But it does, and all that’s left is to keep it from showing, to keep it from his voice.

“Of course I am,” he says, and before he can get anything else out, Jack laughs.

“Wouldn’t do to have our president starving on us,” he says, and his voice is light, full of laughter, joking. It’s a good thing that Jack feels comfortable enough to joke with him. He’s glad, because—he doesn’t know him all that well, definitely doesn’t trust him, not yet, but Tommy and Tubbo seem to like him, so it’s good that he’s fitting in, that he’s found a place, that he likes it here. Though liking isn’t always enough to stop the betrayal before it comes. He ought to keep a closer eye on him, just in case, but—that wasn’t the point of this.

The point is that, joking or not, Jack is completely right. It wouldn’t do to let his eating habits interfere with his duties. He’s already weak; is he going to add malnutrition on top of that? Never mind that he often doesn’t feel like eating, these days, that he really only has an appetite when he’s here, in the bakery. He needs to keep his strength up so that he can get things done. And he can’t force himself to sleep, so that problem is out of his hands, but he can force himself to eat.

Jack couldn’t have known what he was prodding at, of course, when he made the comment. But he takes another bite of bread anyway. It’s tough to swallow, even though it tastes delicious. He doesn’t know why. He’s never had an issue eating Niki’s food before. He hopes this doesn’t become a pattern.

And he hopes it’s not because there’s other people here. It would be an explanation, at least, but not one he likes. The implications there wouldn’t be—good, to say the least.

“Jack,” Niki says quietly, admonishingly, and he wishes she wouldn’t, because he doesn’t want Jack to examine what he’s just said, to analyze it as anything other than a joke. So he musters a smile, a quirk of an eyebrow, and Jack grins back at him.

Safe territory. Level ground, even footing. Relatively speaking.

And then Fundy pipes up.

“Hey, Wil,” he says, and Wilbur wonders, suddenly, where he picked up the habit of calling him ‘Wil’ or ‘Wilbur’ more often than he calls him ‘dad’. Not that he minds it, but it’s curious. Could it be from him? He himself calls Phil by his name more often than not. Perhaps it’s genetic. But then Fundy continues, “Is your hair actually, like, turning white?” and Wilbur is no longer interested in thinking about little details like that.

He’s tense again. Tense enough now that they can probably see it, even without looking too hard.

“Why is everyone so interested in my hair, lately?” he asks. “It’s just hair. Grows out of everyone’s head. Except for yours, Jack Manifold.”

“Point,” Jack Manifold agrees, but there is a gleam in his eyes, behind his glasses, that says he too is interested in the direction this conversation has taken. Not ideal.

“It’s just that,” Fundy persists, “it’s a little bit weird, right? If it’s turning white like that? Is that normal?”

“It’s not ‘turning white,’” he says, which might be a mistake, because he’s lying through his teeth, now. “It was a bad hair dye incident. Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

Jack laughs. “How’d you manage to fuck up hair dye that badly?” he asks, and the way the question is phrased is irritating; he doesn’t want Jack to start thinking he’s an incompetent fool who can’t dye his own hair properly. But he’ll also take this line of questioning over the other, so perhaps it balances out.

Except then, Niki splays both her hands on the counter. Any earlier levity that she had is now gone.

“Is that so?” she says. “That’s not what you told me.”

His heart is pounding again. He really, really hopes that he’s not developing a condition of some kind. He’d know if he were having a heart attack, wouldn’t he?

“I’m pretty sure that is what I told you,” he says, and Niki shakes her head.

“No, you told me that it wasn’t dye, when I asked,” she says. “And then you said that it was, but you were lying.”

She doesn’t sound angry, which is perhaps the worst thing about all of this. She doesn’t sound angry that he’s lied to her, taken advantage of her trust and fed her a blatant falsehood. Her voice is calm, matter-of-fact, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes that isn’t annoyance or betrayal or any of the other emotions she should be feeling. Instead, it’s concern. That blasted concern again.

He doesn’t deserve it.

“Really?” Jack says. “Huh. Well, what’d you do that for, then?”

He’s changed his mind. The worst thing about all of this is that there are other people present. That he’s not alone with Niki, which would still be an undesirable situation, but manageable. Jack Manifold and Fundy are both here, staring at him, expecting answers that he doesn’t want to give, and Fundy—

Why is his son looking at him like that?

“Why are you all so pressed about my hair?” he demands. “It’s hair. You don’t even see it.”

“I mean,” Fundy says, “like I said, it’s just kind of weird, right? I don’t think hair just turns white for no reason. Not unless you’re really old, which you’re not, I don’t think. So I guess we’re just curious about what the reason is.”

He doesn’t want to talk about this. This isn’t why he came here. This place, this bakery, these people, it’s supposed to be an escape from his responsibilities. The only one he allows himself, even though he knows he shouldn’t. It’s the one place where he doesn’t have to think about his own failings, where he can relax a bit and let himself be, if only for a little while, but here they are, pushing him on this, and he doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want to be reminded of his incompetency. And they don’t know, can’t know exactly what they’re doing to him, but—

He slams his hand against the counter, sudden emotion boiling over. They all jump, the three of them. Niki’s eyes widen, and Fundy’s ears press back against his skull.

“Then don’t be,” he snaps. “Leave it the fuck alone. It’s really none of your business, is it?”

There is a moment of silence. The only sound is the crackling of furnaces.

“I guess not,” Fundy mutters, and he realizes what he’s done.

He’s just snapped, lashed out at his friends, his countrymen, his son, and for what? Because their questions are stressing him out? He should have turned around and left the moment he saw them in here, no matter what they would have thought, because this is worse. This is so much worse than that, and now he feels like an absolute shitstain of a human being. What kind of person gets so fucking upset over questions about his hair?

“I’m sorry,” he says. Too little, too late. “I didn’t mean—” Fundy is looking at him. They all are, and suddenly, he can’t bear it. Not any longer. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I really should be going. Thank you for the bread, Niki.”

It’s painfully transparent, and he is very aware of the fact that it’s the exact same way that he rushed out of the bakery when he was last here. Except this time, there are more people here to witness his shame.

History repeats itself, he thinks, bitterly. History repeats itself, and it only gets worse.

But he’s not staying here. He can’t. He just—can’t. Because he feels very upset over such a stupid little thing, and he’s upset that he’s upset, and now he’s upset other people, and he can’t stay here any longer, because if he does, the gods only know what’s going to fly out of his mouth next.

“Wil, please stay,” Niki says, but he’s already standing.

“Be seeing you all,” he says, and the door isn’t far, but it feels like miles, because he can feel their stares burning into his back as he makes his exit.

“Aw, wait, Wilbur, you don’t have to—” Jack starts, but he’s out the door. He’s out the door, and he lets it swing shut behind him, and the words cut off. He doesn’t have to listen to them. So if Fundy says anything, he doesn’t hear it, and he wonders why that makes him feel so much worse. Worse than he does already, which is no mean feat.

His stomach growls. He’s hungry. How many bites of bread did he take? Two? Three? Not enough to be filling. But somehow, he already knows that if he seeks food elsewhere, it will turn to ash in his mouth. And he can’t go back, not after the scene he’s just made, so he’s going to have to be hungry. Which is fine. He’s fine. He’s fine, even though he’s just fucked everything up, and he rather thinks he might not be able to show Niki his face ever again. So, no more bakery. No more safe place, and wow, he is being a dramatic fuck, isn’t he? But he can’t help himself. He never can.

He should have known better from the start. There is no such thing as safety. No exceptions. He should have tried harder to remember that. And he’s not angry, not anymore, not really, because they weren’t aware of the hornets’ nest they were stirring up; rather, he’s angry at himself, for losing control, for letting himself react, for not being able to handle a simple question with the poise and calm that is expected of him as president.

For being weak. That’s what it comes down to. His weakness. Persistent, and now, persistently on display.

He does a lot of screaming into his pillow that night. It doesn’t help. And sleep, it seems, is determined to continue its avoidance, so the night stretches long, and even his tears eventually run dry.

---

The next day, Niki comes to his office.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #wilbur soot #tubbo #tommyinnit #nihachu #fundy #jack manifold #philza #alivebur #/rp #cat writes fic #long post #cw self-hatred #cw disordered eating #cw ptsd #cw swearing #once again c!wilbur's mental state is just simply not good #so warnings for all the things that go hand in hand with that #but anyway! here's part two!! #part three will be out whenever i manage to finish it #hopefully soon

[totallynotpuri]

i had a lot more points to make but couldn't articulate them well enough lmao. anyway /rp ofc, /nm just in case, and lets get into it

okay so i think the Most upsetting part of today's streams for the audience is that we know more than the characters do. and that means that characters are going to act on their ironic ignorance and its going to be frustrating to watch.

case in point: phil telling tommy to tear down the walls. phil, trying to give genuine advice, tells tommy that his 2 block high walls are useless, trapping him in with his own fear, and need to go. however, phil is unaware of the fact that tommy isn't dealing with some irrational fear of a guy whose kind of scary, his abuser/murderer is actively out to get him and he is battling with the trauma inflicted by that same man. the walls aren't some random offense mechanisms tommy is fixtating on, that he planned to build up to block height and stay holed up inside forever. theyre a coping mechanism, because tommy relaxes when he does small builds and defensive walls made out of those specific blocks are comforting to him. we know theyre an illusion of safety. it doesn't really matter what the walls are going to do, just that tommy feels more safe and in control with them, in a situation where he is completely without control and in danger.

and so people got upset. rightfully so. phil, who knows nothing of dream's abuse and tommy's trauma, told tommy to give up his coping mechanism because he had no knowledge of how it helped to reassure tommy

(also, at what point did tommy out the walls above his friends? when did he claim they were worth anymore than other people? he was a scared kid trying to fortify his house, i don't understand why its regarded as "dangerous" or "limiting" for him to do so?)

Before I start this, know that this isn't a neg against any character, just an overview of how I view them. I don't intend to sound like I dislike a certain character or their actions, this is just an analysis. Also /rp /nm

I think you have many points. Yes Phil doesn't understand the true underlying trauma with Tommy, yes Phil doesn't understand the coping mechanism of Tommy (and honestly, neither do I. I am in no place to deem something a good or bad coping mechanism since I myself do not understand them entirely)

However, I think it's unfair to say that Phil knows nothing about the trauma that Tommy is facing, especially after Tommy's two latest lore streams.

Tommy came running in from the tundra screaming and he was completely ready to shoot and kill whoever was chasing him, crossbow out. Even after he said that he couldn't see Dream, he still told Tommy that he'd shoot Dream if he crossed the border. Phil saying that he trusts and believes Tommy is proof that he knows it's not an irrational fear, Phil saying "the first thing he (Dream) does when he gets out of prison is torment a child. I swear to god, I'm gonna fucking murder this teletubby piece of shit, what the fuck is wrong with him" and agreeing to walk Tommy home is proof that he knows, at least now, some level of trauma that Tommy has that was caused by Dream.

However, the thing with Tommy *thinking* that the walls are going to help is that it puts him in a false sense of security. He says that he needs to build walls around his base when Dream breaks out because he thinks that the walls will keep Dream out and keep him safe. He thinks that if he builds the walls, it'll be safe for him. However, him building walls and boxing himself in obsidian in Tubbo's house prevent him from looking at the bigger picture of it all, which is that there are people out there willing to help him, and he's not going to be able to see them if he keeps building himself in.

I feel like I phrased it bad on my part, when I say "he shouldn't place the walls above his friends", I meant that he shouldn't place the walls on the top of his priorities list, above reaching out to his friends and people who care for him

And building protections isn't bad! I should mention that the concept of building up defenses is good! Tommy building a safe house is good! Heck, the concept of the wall was good! HOWEVER, he was doing it by himself, he was blocking himself in. Now, however, he's asking Sam Nook and Phil and Eryn to help him, he's not going forward alone.

Tommyinnit's greatest strength is that, when he's surrounded by people who support him just as much as he supports them, he's able to conquer amazing things. But when he's building those walls around his base, he's putting up a physical barrier between not only him and Dream, but also him and Phil or Tubbo or Sapnap or Quackity.

Tommy's weakness comes when he is alone. When he builds those walls around his base, that's when he's the loneliest. Dream knows that, and he's *trying* to make Tommy feel alone, he wants Tommy to think that there's nobody to help him and that all he can do is to wall himself in. Tommy needs to break through that mentality and get proper support.

And it's already starting! He's got solid support from Quackity, Sapnap, and Phil. Yes, none of them know the true extent of it all, but they're there to help. Tommy has to realize that, at the end of the day, even if the walls help, the true power he has comes from his friends and allies.

#long post #Dream SMP Meta #Dream SMP Spoiler #Tommyinnit DSMP #Philza DSMP #Dream SMP #what I'm saying basically is that Tommyinnit needs to harness the power of friendship to defeat Dream #the toast box

[calehenituseappreciation]

i hc wilbur made tommy president because he planned to go and press the button while tommy spoke and kill him along with himself

wilbur wanted end all his unfinished symphonies and as the person who raised tommy- he raised him like he raised l'manberg. he doesnt care for fundy- not since he denounced him- so he wanted to end him :)

i need a fic where tommy is the one who goes to stop wilbur and wilbur fucking stabs him before pressing the button saying "it was never meant to be" tommy loses both first and last lives to that phrase

tommys last words are it was always meant to be fucking wilbur survives the explosion and has no one to kill him and now he has to live with the consqunces tommy becomes toast- short for ghost tommy i refuse to write so many letters each time- and immeditly looks for his older brothers and he finds wilbur first :) wilbur is exiled for his crimes and also out of fear- they tried to rehabilate him! they really did but then he freaked out over seeing toast... in a bad way.... and he and toast burned georges house on toast suggest (maybe we should burn something! that always helps me calm down!) this is after wilbur is trusted enough to be not... in a prison... after phil convinced them he needs help and toast tries his best ok- (WHO LEFT WILBUR WITH TOAST!) (I THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME! I WAS ONLY LEAVING FOR FIVE MINUTES! AND RANBOO WAS THERE TOO!) and toast tries to go with but everyone is like "yeah no" and toast is like "whhhhyyy i just wanna stay with wilby!" and everytime anyone tries to tell tommy about the wrongs that have happened to him he screams and clutches his head in pain and everytime he comes back he doesnt remember the convo toast,,, is the most BABY toast calls everyone cutesy nicknames unironcially he calls eret rere toast, chriping happily: TECHIE!!!! tubbo: TOMMY STAY AWAY FROM HIM! toast, in a very lost and confused voice: why? techno, freaking out: tommy? toast: hi!!!!!!! im toast!!!!!! :D techno: lowkey ab to cry toast: NOOOOOOOO DUN CRI! toast: there there techie... i know what will help! tubbo, sighing: arson? toast: ARSON! phil comes just in time to find tommys dead body and l'manberg gone hes not around for the withers neither hes there just to see the crater and wilbur in chains with blood on his hands trying to off himself phil will forever blame himself for not making it in time :> dream: taking wilbur away in boat toast, floating behind the boat: o^o dream do you have any games on your phone .///^///. looks at exileinnit hmmm spins roulette wheel who should i hurt... i picked d all of the above they dont let toast go with him but because he is baby and you can't tell him what to do tubbo: sighs finally now that the exiles done toast can you- tubbo: looks up tubbo: GOADDAMN IT

toast is promptly kidnapped back to l'manberg the next day toast keeps going back tho and no one understands why- he literally killed him! why does he keep wanting to go back! (toasts unfinished buisness keeping him tied was helping wilbur and l'manberg- he loved wilbur even at his worst)

toast vibes around everyone but he stays with wilbur- where ever wilbur goes is where he builds his home

its shitty but its an 'ome Toast, teary eyed: Dad? Why does everyone hate Wilby? Why can't I be with him... Phil, with no idea what to do: niki bakes cakes with niki whenever hes in l'manberg he keeps accidently setting her bakery on fire but hes sMOL AND GIGGLES A LOT AND HE HAS FLOUR ON HE GODDAMN SELF toast is a part of mexican l'manberg i dont make the rules mexican dream: AYYYYYYYYY HOMIE toast, giggling: 'OMIE!!!!!

Toast is wholesome while everyone is literally willing to murder Wilbur while also trying to stop him from khs toast is just a very happy lovely child and cries whenever anyone is mean to 'his big brother wilby!' and so they all constantly glare daggers over toasts shoulder wherenever he cant see em meanwhile Phil is just dying inside because Tommy is a ghost by Wilbur's hands and Wilbur keeps trying to commit suicide and oh god what is he supposed to do- he simply avoids this struggle by avoiding them toast, waddling up to philza: papa do you have any games on your phone? all im saying is that tommy called phil papa before changing to dad or fathercraft phil,in the tired parent voice: tommy please sit down- just for five minutes- at least for 5 minutes toast: sits down and then proceeds to struggle to continue to sit but he must because dad told him to toast is just ADHD incarnate wilbur, trying to end himself: im gonna escape my consequences toast: HI!!!!! :D wilbur: FUCK ITS MY CONSEQUENCES toast,,,, is so baby Wilbur is just not allowed to have anything remotely sharp i like how theres so much angst and im just hyper focusing on ba yby dream uses toast the same way he uses ghostbur! :D toast doesnt realize of course even after wilbur tells him dream is bad but he keeps forgetting!!! Everyone: da baby Dream: how can I profit from this oh dream is manipulating wilbur btw wilbur: suffering toast: i made you a card toast trusts eret wholeheartedly and this hurts eret because she knows if toast remembered he probably wouldnt- they wanted redemption but not like this- not because of death Toast: you look cool Toast: you are friend now Eret: sobs I don't deserve this Toast: what did I do wrong Toast: how can I help friend!!!!! Eret: sobbing more toast looks at everyone says "ah! friend shaped!" if ur wondering wheres the angst toast is the angst- toast is just tommy without any bad memories and hes so different they thought he was happy before they thought he was fine tommy was hurt too but since he internalized it no one cared toast sees wilbur being sad and goes! i know what will help! n-not arson tho people dont like arson when you do it.... BUT ITS OKAY! I BROUGHT A FRIEND! shows friend, the sheep and wilbur just fucking sobs Toast is wholesome chaotic in a perfect mix- toast is tommy but without the 'asshole on purpose as a self defense mechanism" someone mentioned something about Tommy masking insecurities once Toast doesn't remember. and he's fine with that he doesn't have any insecurities toast hurts because in retrospect toast, meeting bad: WOAAAAAAH! YOU LOOK SO FUCKING COOL! bad: LANGUAGE! toast, cringing back, looking at the ground: ..sorry :( bad: ...you can swear toast: :D bad: once toast hasnt sworn since "hes saving it for special occasions" sometimes he accidently swears and immedtly gasps and looks at bad and bad just sighs and is like "its okay it was an accident" bad never would have thought itd take letting tommy swear for him to stop huh... its almost like... hes a child.... and the negetive reienforcement.... was doing more harm then good.... toast: exists in an amount of happiness no one has ever seen him in before everyone: pain how much pain was tommy in before? they thought tommy was happy- was... was he not happy? he's so unabashedly joyful and energetic looking back they can see how forced every laugh felt, every smile- He's not afraid to just talk to people, make new friends he became so much more cautious after Eret, had it really effected him that badly? He's open. He never lies about how he's feeling, never brushes anything away how much was Tommy hiding, how much pain, how much fear- It's chilling. bone chilling. There's no way to fix what's been lost. No way to apologize to who Tommy used to be, to try and make it better. None of them every bothered to see him as anything more than a nuisance, an annoying child or cannon fodder and they'll regret it for the rest of their lives everyone: having a mental crisis toast: GUYYYYSS!! I MADE ANOTHER FRIEND!!!

"Wilby?" Wilbur heard Tommys voice say in an innocent tone.

Was he hearing things? Tommy's dead. He killed him himself.

"Wilby why are you in prison?" The image of his little brother asked, "Did you commit arson without me?" it asked in a pout.

"TOMMY!" Tubbo yelled running into the cell where Wilbur was kept, going through the bars with ease, "Tommy get away from him!"

"But 'ubbo!!!! Wilby is 'ere!!!!" Tommy (?) said with a smile Wilbur hadn't seen since Tommy was a child.

"Tommy, I understand you don't remember anything right now but you need to come back over here!" Tubbo demanded and Tommy flinched

Wilbur was struck with the sudden realization that this isn't just his mind- no no it can't be- but Tubbo acknowledged him he has to- Wilbur reached his locked hands towards Tommy only for him to pass through him. What? No no it was just his imagination that makes sense.

"Oh sorry Wil! I'm kinda dead! I don't remember how i died... but i think im a ghostie!" Tommy said plainly, floating off the floor. Wilbur looked at him in confusion. Whats happening?

the first time toast sees the crater toast srceams in intense amount of pain- its so loud you can hear it all over the smp- and just dissapears for a few days before reappearing with no memories of what happened toast saying things tommy thought but never said- he calls eret "big brother" and eret fucking d i e s toast cals all the l'manbergians older siblings He's far too honest for anyone to handle tommy was always honest too but he learned from experince that honesty only lead to hurt Tommy was like an enderchest, you could never see beyond the exterior, everything inside was exclusive to him and him alone Toast is like when someone dies and all their fuckin items explode onto the ground. you just see everything and most of it was  pain and everyone feels bad because they thought he was the only one uneffected that nothing had ever put a damper on his happiness and energetic smile- at what point had that smile became fake? also for angst reasons the last memory toast has is before the elections toast has uwu boy vibes but more chaotic toast goes to dream smp from logstedshire purely for sam nook toast starts making his hotel since he sees nobody has a home (including dream LMAO) (and he wants to make a safe place since everyone keeps saying something about war) and wants to make one and asks sam for help since apparently hes good at building and sam lets him pay after he finishs the hotel and sam nook is there since day one because i dont think i could handle a world without sam nook toast: biting everyone tubbo: wHY DO YOU DO THAT?????? toast: once techie bit all the cupcakes and then said it was his cuz he bit it so im biting everyone to show their mine!!!!! tubbo: i- tubbo: i am both flattered and disgusted everyone, remembering how tommy used to bite everyone upon meeting and then everyone would get mad at him and yell at him until he stopped biting people on meeting: sadly whips and nae naes hes a BABY toast deserves the fucking world also i havent talked ab it but there is wilbur and fundy angst here fundy confronts wilbur also not that fundy is angry about not not not getting murdered by his father but also why does he consider tommy his unfinished sympohny and not him? he raised fundy too- maybe he just only ever loved tommy (based off his insecurity of how close wilbur and tommy are based off wilbur raising tommy and wilbur only being there for fundy by the time he was older and also using hybrid age go nyoom for this dream manipulates toast during wilburs exile along with wilbur and toast realizes both of them were being used by him and fucking screams lourder than he ever has before and dissapears for a week and then shows up at technos house (he got lost and he didnt know why he was at logsted shire- he doesnt remember the place) on the day of the excution and tries to help technoblade but keeps forgetting that everyone is trying to kill techno the butcher army is hesitant when "hey why are you all attacking big brother Techy-" "HE SPAWNED WITHERS IN L'MANBERG!" "he did?" toast asked tilting his head in confusion "YES! HE DID! AFTER YOU DIED! NOW WHERE IS HE TOAST! WE NEED TO CAPTURE HIM!" whenever tubbo talks ab how theyre planning on excuting techno or how there was no trial toast has flashbacks to tubbos excution but hes never able to hold on to the memories just leaving him feeling bad toast sees anything traumatic and just makes the blue screen noise toast has to reboot every time anything truamatic happens and when he does he doesnt remember what happens after

toast hurts on a "THE FUCKING IMPLICATIONS OF THIS" level just.. everyone trying to make up for not noticing tommys hurt and trying to be good to toast when its already too late... far too late glatt is also here because whenever ytoast dissapears after something trauamtic he bounces back to the land of the dead for the bit and sometimes he drags glatt out to the land of the living with him only works bc toast has unfinished buisness so he can freely go between and just stays in the land of the lving until he can finish his unfiinshed buisness ghostbur and toast wouldve been good friends if they ever met anyone yells at toast and he immeditly starts sobbing

basically when everything is calm and peaceful and everyone is happy together after dream is in prison and toast is like "oh... this is what ive always wanted"

"toast?" tubbo asked, confused toast smiled softly, "i think its time for me to go" "what?" wilbur asked his pitch unusually high due to the fear lacing his voice "i think... i think this was my unfinished buisness... this is the last thing i wanted when i was alive, the reason i stayed... i think its finally my time to go now" toast said smiling tearfully "no! you vcan't go! we just got you back!"

basically when everything is finally ok, when things finally calm down toast fades back to the void/afterlife thing

#dream smp #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #dream smp hcs #dream smp au #dsmp

[dykeza]

can u tell us more about the c!Philza headcanons for like age and shit bc im very interested in your thoughts

Finally someone asks the important questions.

I think his story starts when he dies, like well over 600,000 years ago a guy who loved life got wrecked by a baby zombie. He wakes up in Deaths Realm (home of his future wife aka the hottest woman he’s EVER SEEN) and is like “fuck shit dick and balls I don’t want to be dead I didn’t get to do this thing” and so the Goddess of Death is like “I’ll cut you a deal because you’re so respectful and also cute: you can become an Angel, and after training for however long you need to, you will go back to the land of the living and Live Forever. Or you can just die and go fuck around in the fields of forgotten souls since you didn’t know many people and spent most of your life doing Goddess/Me knows what in the forest.” Mind you, NO ONE has accepted this proposition since becoming an Angel is Painful and Long and Awful. But Philza Minecraft is two things: 1. Batshit insane and 2. Loves being alive. So he’s like “yeah okay lol. Sign me up for Angel training.” <- clueless.

Angel training is like… excruciating. 50,000+ years of non-stop training. And when I mean Non-stop I mean NO REST. For 50,000 years you have something to do. Like Sisyphus and that damn boulder. Always got to roll it back up the mountain. No matter how much you wish to rest, you are Not Allowed That and if you do it gets Worse. But at the end you get sick ass wings and immortality and a cool outfit and in Phil’s case, a hot goddess wife. Because he’s a chad.

He goes back to the land of the living and then from then till Now, he does whatever the fuck he wants. Can’t die, can fly, not a care in the world. Certainly goes through some hardships and survives a lot of terrible circumstances but he’s alive and that’s what he wanted. He wanted to live, he wanted to do everything he could, get all he could from the life he was given, which is everything. Along the way he meets many people and does many things.

One of these things is get wrangled into the Piglin colosseums, which is my own headcanon lore all on its own. He fucks around killing people for a while, tries to settle down, his family dies, tries again, his family dies, and he slowly realizes that the price of living forever is that he can never have a simple life. Everyone he loves will eventually die, and he can Never Join them. Ever. Trust me he’s tried. Sometime 500 years before the dsmp happens the Antarctic Empire happens so that’s fun.

Other small headcanons is sometimes he wakes up with no organs, Angels don’t have gender so that shit just changes based on the day. Sometimes he has blood and other times he’s hollow on the inside. He suffers frequent hallucinations of Wilbur’s dead body damning him to a hell he knows he can’t go to, but the pain is enough. He likes cooking and botany. He sews Wilbur’s sweaters and makes him a quilt each year to celebrate nothing in particular. Sometimes he wakes up and his whole face is torn to shreds and bleeding and other times his teeth fall out one by one but then he blinks and he’s normal again. He can sense when people can die, very vaguely, and he tries not to physically touch people because he can feel when their heart will stop.

He has boobs. Refer to the syndicate post for shirtless cPhilza propaganda. Phiddies :)

#ask #I HAVE SO MUCH

[zombiekillerky]

{Reassurance Gone} Dream SMP Fanfic, pt 2 of Reassured

{Based off of Tommy’s last stream everyone is devastated about. Sorry everyone who reads this if I bring back bad memories. WARNING : Abuse, Blood, Manipulation}

"It's no problem Tommy, I'm always here for you"

Tommy thought long and hard over those words as he sat in the cell all this time with his worst nightmare. Time was almost slowed as the hours no minutes went by. He felt the walls caving in around him, it was so hard to breath, so hard to concentrate. He sat as far away as he could from that nightmare he shared a cell with. The man that had eyes on him with his devilish grin that seemed to never fade. His hands would shake, fingernail imprints dug in to his skin from how hard he would press his fingers against his palm to distract him. His body would quiver even though the lava that dropped from the outside was a few feet next to him. He was terrified of many things, he wished this was a nightmare. He begged that it was so he could wake up and pretend nothing ever happened. But sadly it wasn’t, it was all to real and that was what pained him day by day as he sat in the cell with his worst enemy.

"It's no problem Tommy, I'm always here for you"

Sam had told him before he gotten himself in to this mess, the creeper hybrid was so set on helping him. He was so concerned with him and his mindset, standing right by his side and made sure he was comfortable with everything. Sam had him keep his mindset on something instead of thinking about the bad times he had previously. He truly cared about him didn’t he? He wasn’t using him like almost everyone else seems to. The blonde broken boy screamed out his name, cried for him to come to his rescue. He even screamed for Phil, the man he trusted with most things in his life. But nobody came, he felt his hope fading slowly. Knowing no one would come to his aid at this rate, he would have to tough this out and play the waiting game he hated dearly. But even a thirty minute visit with the villain he hated most made him sick to his stomach. He wanted to see Sam.....he wanted to see Phil, he wanted to see Tubbo. He wanted freedom again that he longed for, for what seemed like eternity.

Days had pasted for what seemed like a month went by, the blonde was so tired from trying to stay up in the nights he stayed. The light of the lava being his only light in the darkness that surrounded him. There was no trust in sleeping around the homeless man as Techno would like to call him. At this point in time he wanted to claw his ears off after listening to the nightmare talk about his stories and his past life before he had met Tommy. To try and pass the time as Dream says. Even after the blonde shouted at him to shut up several times, singing to distract him from his words but nothing would work. He was surprised that a fight didn’t break out sooner between them both. There were few arguments on some things. Like Dream telling him to give up, that no body was coming to save him. Or how Dream left Sapnap and George, that he didn’t care at all for them even int he beginning. They both knew ways to toy with each other’s emotions, yet Dream knew exactly where to stab in order to get the right reaction out of him. But at this rate Tommy was feeling himself go mad as the hours went by with him.

“Sam! Sam let me out Sam! Please!” Tommy yelled as he heard Sam’s voice coming closer to the cell. He was excited once he heard his voice, relieved that he was finally done with the torture of staying in the box with Dream. He wanted to leave, he wanted to see Sam and hug him tight. He wanted reassurance again, he wanted to know that he was finally okay and away from the prison forever. He would leave and never look back ever no matter what would happen to him. Yet once he heard Sam and his reply, his happiness dropped at an alarming rate. His smile faded once he heard his words,

“Tommy I promise you I will figure out what is wrong and I will get you out of there as fast as I can. I promise you okay and don’t you forget that. I’ll make sure you come out as soon as possible but I have to make sure there is no possible way of Dream escaping again” Sam shouted through the lava in order for Tommy to hear him somewhat. The blonde just stared at the lava with his mouth slightly open in a confused stare. He thought he was done, he thought his time in here was now over with. He was done, he was supposed to be free from the hell he was living him. He needed to leave now, he couldn’t bare another second of this madness. Tommy clutched his shirt tightly, his breathing was becoming short and heavy like something was on top of his chest. He could feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes. His wrapped hand quickly wiped them away, he shouldn’t show weakness at this moment. He didn’t want to cry in front of Dream over this, Dream would most likely use that against him now wouldn’t he. Tommy bit down on to his bottom lip slightly as he tried to calm himself down. 

“B-But why Sam....you said a week” Tommy barely spoke, holding back his anxiety and sadness as he spoke toward Sam behind the lava. It was to hard doing this for a week and now there were extra days added on to it? What was Sam thinking? What was he doing, he knew Tommy’s fears, he knew what Dream had done to him in exile. So why was he not understanding that he needed to be let out now.

“Tommy....I-”

“SAM FUCKING LET ME OUT! PLEASE SAM! I”M BEGGING YOU....please....please just get me out of here....I-I can’t do t-this anymore” Tommy whimpered as he fell to the floor on to his knees. Tears slipped down his cheeks with a sizzling sound of them dropping to the floor near the lava. The smokey smell filled Tommy’s lungs as he sat only a foot or two away from the burning lava. His eyes clenched as he tried to hold back his sobs, he was grown up. He shouldn’t be crying over this right? Yet he felt it was the right thing to do at the moment since there was nothing else to exactly do.

“Tommy you can stay in there for a bit longer I know you can....Tommy you’re strong, you can stand a couple more days in there....Don’t give up hope now alright, I promise I’ll get you out of there soon. Just trust me on this, Dream can’t be let out of the prison. Many lives depend on that Tommy, I’m sorry I know how terrible this is for you and I want to get you out of there I do”

“It’s kind of hard to do when you told me I’d be stuck here for a week Sam...7 DAYS! 7 days is what I was told and now you’re telling me MORE! I KNOW MY RIGHTS, I KNOW WHAT I SIGNED IN THAT BOOK SAM” Tommy shouted to the point where he started to cough. Blaming it on the nuclear reaction to Tubbo’s rocket crater. Sam covered his mouth, noticing the strain in Tommy’s voice as he shouted across the lava barrier that separated them both. The creeper hybird hated himself so much as he heard him yell over and over again for him to let him out. He wanted to open up the lava barrier and bring him out so badly. But this was protocol, he couldn’t bring himself to even do it. His hand hovered over the button that would remove the lava and bring the path over for him. Hesitation was all he felt as his shaky hand went over the button several times to try and press it. After swearing that he would protect him so much he couldn’t even bring himself to open up the gate and bring him out. He wanted to just grab him and tell him everything was gong to be okay. The idea of Tommy being stuck with the server’s number one dangerous person made him sick to his stomach. He made a promise to him and here he was breaking it....what was he doing? What was he thinking?

“Sam.....you know...I-I don’t do well in small areas Sam....this is worse then exile sam....this is way worse the exile...please let me out...I don’t like this.....I-I can’t do this Sam *sniff*....I need out....I need you....I-I can’t be in here with him anymore *sniff*” Tommy cried as he wiped his eye with his palm, trying to calm himself some what. Attempting to do the breathing exercises Sam had taught him when he would panic like this.

“I-I know it’s not the best but I can’t let you out Tommy....not now....just a couple more days-” Tommy clenched his hands tightly, his breathing was not easing up as he sat there. His fists pounded the floor in anger, why couldn’t he just understand what he was going through.

“FOR ONCE STOP BEING SUCH A PUSSY AND SHOOT HIM IN THE FACE! LET ME OUT! PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU SAM” There was a long pause after Tommy screamed at him. For a second Tommy thought Sam was actually gong to listen and bring him out like he wanted. But the silence was just because Sam was speechless toward Tommy and what he screamed. he has never heard him scream like that before. Even when TechnoBlade and him were yelling at each other during the festival.

“I promise you you’re gonna be out soon, you just need to stay strong Tommy” Tommy’s face fell once he heard Sam utter those words to him once more. Like a broken record on replay over and over again. No matter how much he pleaded Sam wouldn’t open up the doors. He probably wouldn’t if Dream was hurting him either.

“j-just....just fuck off” Tommy replied as he covered his eyes with his palms that hurt from him hitting the ground. Sam held his hand out toward the direction Tommy was in. Clenching his fist as he retracted it back, replaying the words the boy had said over and over within his head. He sounded so terrified and so hurt. Same hated himself for turning around, his feet were slow as he basically dragged them while walking away. He couldn’t bare looking at the lava that contained the prison cell anymore. He couldn’t bare thinking that Tommy was in there suffering because of him. 

Tommy sighed as he stood up from his spot on the floor, his head turned around slowly to find Dream simply smiling as he stood up against the side of the wall.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad Tommy”

“It is and I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, you’re ugly!” Tommy shouted as he walked back over to the wall next to the chest that contained their books they shared. He wanted to sit and be alone with his thoughts that seemed to just be bad. Yet the masked villain didn’t seem to know anything about alone time now did he?

“Yeah yeah I know you say the same thing every 10 minutes I get it., I get it don’t you worry” Dream held his hands up in defense, his sly smirk never faded from his face as he stood there. He enjoyed watching Tommy fidget and yell in his anxious state, he didn’t need to write anymore to keep busy. All he had to do was watching him and his comedy act he played. Tommy’s blue orbs darted over to him as he stood up against the wall. He rolled his eyes as he hugged his knees tighter to his chest. Calming himself down from achieving a bigger panic attack that would soon come on. He hated Dream so much, he hated Sam for not coming to help him, he hated himself for even coming here in the first place. He wanted to go home, he wanted to go back to his hotel he just finished. Why was it so hard to achieve happiness, why is there something always in his path when he finally get’s something he wants. Life couldn’t be more unfair to him then it was right now. He was just so done with everything, and yet his mind kept telling him not to give up hope like he wants to dearly.

“Tommy....hey I have an idea okay hear me out....why don’t we break out together huh, you get what you want and I get what I want?” Tommy stared at him for a second as he watched Dream push off of the wall and walk toward him. What was Dream trying to do now to him, he told himself never to fall for anything he says ever again.

“what...no because then you’ll be out with me and I don’t want you to break out. You deserve to stay in here Dream for everything you have done, I don’t” Tommy replied shyly, resting his head back down on to his knees. Dream just stared at him, his eyes squinting as he tried to read Tommy’s facial expression. He knew he wouldn’t be able to manipulate him any longer, the boy had grown smarter since the last time he played with his emotions. It would be harder to take advantage of him this time. But he was up for the challenge, it was always quite fun to have something new. Dream sighed as he turned his back toward him, watching the lava fall from up above where the entrance is.

“Fine....I’m gonna get out....and you...you just motivated me *points towards Tommy*. You motivated me all this time you know that. Seeing how dedicated you are....” Dream smirked as he watched Tommy’s facial expression change to irritation and anger. He was going to escape, he knew he was, he just needed to right plan and the right moment to do so.

“I’m going to get out....and when I do I’m going to have my revenge.”

“what the....what the fuck does that mean?....W-What does that mean Dream?” Tommy stuttered as he lifted his head up from his knees, slowly making his way up against the wall as he watched Dream. Tommy could feel a shiver go down his spine as he watched him. He was enjoying this he knew he was, this was all just a big show to him and nothing more. He was just trying to get a rise out of him. What was sad was it was working and he hated it. He shouldn’t let Dream get a hold of his emotions but it was so hard not to listen. 

“It means I’ll get my revenge Tommy, What do you think that means”

“on who....oh OH ON EVERYONE WON’T YOU! YOU’LL GO AND YOU’LL KILL...you won’t kill everyone won’t you...you wouldn’t kill anyone......of course you would wouldn’t you you bastard.....you sick sick bastard do you fucking know that!” Tommy muttered underneath his breath as he turned away from him. Dream was a sick human being, human being if that. He would take the chance to kill anyone if he was given it. He used Tubbo against him to give him the disks back. Everyone is just another pawn in his grasp that he plays to get what he wants over all. He has said it before, he doesn’t care about anything he just wants power. Even if it meant him hurting the ones he used to care about.

“You’ll kill Tubbo won’t you?”

“Tommy.....I’ll get revenge on who ever wronged me” Dream chuckled as he watched Tommy boil with rage. His fist came forward and was met with Dream’s jaw line. Dream took a step back and held where Tommy had punched him. He seen Tommy clenching his hands tightly as his teeth grinned against each other. His rage was taking over his body at the moment, the show was just ow getting better for the prisoner. 

“YOU WILL NOT KILL TUBBO!” Tommy yelled as he came forward and punched him again once Dream stood up. All Dream could do was laugh to himself as he spit to the side. Feeling blood drip from the cut on his lip. His steady fingers reached up and touched his bottom lip. Seeing the red on his finger tips as he pulled his hand slowly away

“Stop hitting me Tommy, you really don’t want to do that now”

“No....fuck you...fuck you Dream!”

“Fuck you Tommy...aww you’re so...I’ve sat hear, listening to your bullshit this whole time you have been in here with me!....You’re whining and crying about how this is worse then exile out int he middle of fucking no where. This is soooo terrible, you’re sitting in a box-”

“YEAH, I’M CLAUSTROPHOBIC...A BOX....A SMALL BOX AT THAT YOU FUCK. THIS IS THE WORST THING ANYONE COULD DO TO ME!!”

“I’ve been sitting here for a hundred times longer then you! *pushes Tommy back roughly* And you sit there and tell me that it’s so horrible and so bad..But we have each other to talk to don’t we. You keep pushing me away like that is going to do anything. I’m used to the silence here, I can handle myself just fine. But you on the other hand, it looks like you need someone to distract you from this sticky situation you’re in” Dream replied pointing at the blonde boy across the room from him.Tommy showed his fangs as his upper lip raised to scowl. He hated him so much, he was his enemy not his friend. He was the man that tortured him in exile for weeks, the man that turned his best friend against him and made sure no one would come to see him. The man who made his life a living hell and made him think of jumping off in to lava in the nether several times to escape the world he lived in. 

Tommy laughed slightly as he walked forward toward Dream, he wasn’t going to be scared of him. He put him in this prison, he was the on that took two of his lives away from him and he could take away the third as well.

“You don’t have me....you’ll never have me....WE don’t have each other alright.....I am me and you are just t-this loser who goes around manipulating people. LYING to get what he wants.....you are a fucking no one man, you’re just a sick excuse of a human being you know that? huh..You truly are, I don’t know what George and Sapnap seen in you....You make me sick” Tommy chuckles softly as he runs his fingers through his messy hair, trying to read Dream’s expression as he stood there in front of him.

“You might have a favor, who is it TechnoBlade? Is he going to struggle to get you out....No no no TechnoBlade doesn’t like governments, he likes self gain....*laughs* Do you really think he wants to piss off the owner of the most powerful building on this entire land Dream?  The Blade is smart....he wouldn’t go out of his way for someone like you even if he does have a favor he owes you. I know Techno better then that, he knows how and when to play his cards right and you aren’t in his plans” Tommy smirked as he remembered his times with the Blade out in the snow where he used to stay. The good times they shared of chaos, yet calming times by the fireplace for dinner in the evening Phil would cook for them. Those were times he missed dearly, times he wished he could earn back with the Blade. Sometimes he goes back and thinks about what would have happened if he didn’t betray the Blade back then. Maybe he would have been by his side right now and protecting him against Dream like he used to.

“But I do know something he might want....He likes knowledge right?” Dream asked with a smirk as he watched Tommy slowly stare at him in thought. Tommy was getting even more irritated, the blonde reached forward and pushed Dream again. Dream knew Tommy’s relationship was still a touchy subject even now, he would use that against him if he was going to act this way.

“Shut up” 

“He likes being a couple steps a head of people....I know how he can think, he is good with strategy....just because I am trapped in here doesn’t mean I have lost my knowledge Tommy! You know how grateful he’ll be once he see the book of reviving, he wouldn’t have to worry about Phil holding him back with his one life-”

“SHUT UP, YOU DON’T KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HIM!” Tommy yelled as he punched Dream in the arm as strong as he could. Yet it seemed like he wasn’t even fazed with him. Dream only laughed slightly underneath his breath as he fist came around. The wind was knocked out of Tommy as Dream’s fist landed right in to his stomach. Tommy clutched his stomach in pain as he tried to catch his breath. A coughed fit started as tears formed in the corners of his eyes. But before he could stand up, Dream’s fist came around again and again. Spit was coughed up on to the flooring as Tommy crouched down. Trying to catch his breath in his coughing fit he was having. Suddenly his hair was pulled back tightly, making him look up in pain as Dream pulled his hair to make him look up forcefully.

“Even though I’m in here I’m still more powerful then you are when you’re outside..It’s always been true and you know that....You should fear me” Dream smiled widely, but soon frowned upon Tommy’s unfazed look on his face.

“Stop fucking talking *coughs* for once in your god damn obsessed life.....I fucking hate you.....I hate you so mu-” Tommy’s face went to the side as Dream’s knuckles met with his cheek. A pop was heard as blood dripped from his nose. Yet Dream brought his head right back up again, noticing the blood that gushed down his lip.

“Says YOU? You have been ANNOYING ME ever since you have gotten here. EVERYDAY non stop whining! Whining about your fears, Whining about getting out and going to your Hotel. Whining about EVERYTHING” Dream shouted as he punched him again across his face. Bringing his head back up all over again so he could look at him. Tommy spit across the floor, blood mixed in with his saliva from his cut lip and oozing nose. His vision was hazy as he sat there, his eye must be swelling from his broken nose already.

“r-right now I could just kill y-you....and the only reason I’m not is because of my friend Tubbo....because we need that revive spell book or whatever the hell it is Schlatt gave you that you talked about.....you’d be dead already if you didn’t have that book” Tommy replied, spitting on the ground yet again to avoid the iron taste he hated dearly. Dream’s grasp left his hair as he took a couple of steps in front of him. His crazy laugh was something that couldn’t be forgotten. Tommy slowly reached up and wiped his nose of the blood that seemed to keep falling. His bandaged hand was now red from all the blood it gathered up.

“I am never using that revival book to help you....or ANY of your stupid little friends that you have....I am NEVER....NEVER EVER going to use it, on you, on any of your friends that you have and will make. I will never use it to save any of you and that’s a promise I will keep. SO just kill me, go a head come on....it’s not like I’m useful for anything, hell you’d be doing me a favor. Being trapped in here sucks, I’d be free if you’d kill me so DO IT” Dream yelled as he held hands arms out wide. Watching as Tommy stood up from the ground shakily as he clutched his stomach with his left arm. His eyes were wide as he stared at him in confusion, almost like he believed Dream would help him in the first place. He should have known Dream wouldn’t have helped him, but the look of shock was to priceless too pass up for the villain in the smiley face mask. Tommy glanced toward the ground, he couldn’t be serious right? He needed that book to revive Wilbur, he needed that book to help him and his friends now and in the future.What was he going to do now? He didn’t know what to do, what to even say next to the man in front of him. He was terrified of what to come next, he wanted to call out for help, he wanted back up but no one would come to his aid. He was all alone with a person so blood thirsty, he couldn’t even protect himself against.

“Once Tubbo dies, you’re just going to come crawling back to me. BEGGING me for that book....and I’ll simply say just let me out....But that won’t ever happen and Tubbo will just be dead for ever and it will be all your fault, all because you wouldn’t let me go.....it’s simple really, once he dies that’s all it will take for you to come and see me again for the book.....and I’ll asked the same thing every time you do...let me out”

“What to you mean when Tubbo dies?....What do you mean”

“If Tubbo dies” Dream corrected himself even though he already meant what he was going say. Once he is let out that will be one of his first targets to go after. The pawn that got in the way of so many of his plans in the past. The pawn that was supposed to die a long time ago and yet his death never came. Tommy turned his head, his hands were starting to clench once more as he thought about it. Thought about what Dream would do if he was let out in to the world yet again. All the damage and destruction that would come in his path once he leaves the prison. No one would stand a chance against him out in the world. Everyone one that sided against him would all be dead in a matter of days wouldn’t they?

“I’ll get out eventually, because either you’ll let me out or people will be dead....You need me....you need this book and I come with it whether you like it or not” Dream said as he crossed his arms tightly to his chest, almost like he was starting to pout. Tommy glanced to the side, trying to ignore the pain in his face from getting hit to many times already. The blonde started to shake his head ever so slightly as he was in thought. Dream raised his eyebrow underneath his masked that covered his scarred face. Confused as to what the boy was thinking as he stood there weakly. Tommy slowly met with the drawn on eyes of Dream’s mask. Wanting to see his full expression as they were arguing just to see what was going on inside his head. He was just so done with everything, he was exhausted and just didn’t want to argue anymore. Yet his brain begged him for the answers that Dream was keeping from him.

“The revive book.....it isn’t real is it?....it’s not fucking real....because from what I recall in exile all you do is lie to me....You lie to me and then you unveil this at last moment!” Tommy shouted as he pushed Dream back once more, to show he wouldn’t back down from him. But all he could see was his smile on his face as he stepped back. Tommy chuckled lightly as he wiped away the blood going down his chin.

“When we went down in to your pit.....here’s what you tell me *proceeds to point at Dream* Oh it was me that reorganized your beach party, it was me that blew up the community house. Basically framing me for every wrong thing you have done to make people hate me even more” Tommy replied in a frustrated tone, he knew he was stepping in to dangerous territory. But he was going to make he point whether he was injured or not. He was not going to back down from Dream any longer, at least that’s what he told himself. Tommy stepped forward, closer and closer toward his enemy that stood still patiently. Tommy pointed toward him, poking him in the chest as he came right up in front of him. So close he could tear off his mask right now with ease.

“You are a clinical manipulator.....a PSYCHOPATH if you will.... For all I know this revival book that you keep doesn’t even exist. Your little card that Jschlatt gave you to play. Jschlatt was just a big fucking drunk mad man alright! He wasn’t some powerful guy that had access to this kind of bullshit! He literally died from a heart attack or a stroke I don’t even know, but that man was not powerful in anyway....Do you really expect me to believe that he had that book? Fuck off man” Tommy replied as he pushed Dream back some more. His back was now up against the wall, yet he cold expressionless face seemed to never change. The boy would admit this was terrifying standing so close to him. He has been afraid the moment the explosions went off and he had to stay in here with him. Maybe even before that, yet he wouldn’t admit it to himself. As Tommy stared at Dream he finally faced him. Trying to think of what words he should say to him at the moment. There was a long pause before he continued,

“I’m NOT lying, Jschlatt gave me a revival book before he died” Dream replied, now pushing Tommy away from him so he could get some space away from the wall. The blonde didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth from this point on. Why should he when all he has been told were lies coming from him.

“How about you revive him then....revive him right now!” Tommy stubbornly replied, his arms out wide as he stared at Dream. The masked villain knew non of his words were getting across to him in this moment. Tommy was really irritating him at this point in time. 

“WHY WOULD I BE LYING ABOUT THAT HUH” Dream yelled loudly, scaring Tommy as Dream came forward and punched him in the gut again. This time Tommy wasn’t ready to defend himself. He just took the blow to his stomach once more. A whimper came out of his mouth as a few tears fell down his bruised cheeks.

“Oh what? To save my own skin or something? Is that what you think happened huh. I’m not afraid of you or any of those people out there?” Dream asked as he came forward and grabbed Tommy by his hair. Tommy whimpered in pain as he looked at Dream.

“e-exactly, because you’re a liar....you’re a big fat fucking liar.. Through your armor and skin you know what I see?” Tommy coughed as Dream hit him in his stomach once more. Bringing him back up to face him, every time he tried to speak Dream’s fist would collide with one of his body parts. His bottom lip busted and bleeding down his chin as blood flowed out from his broken nose. He could barely see out of his left eye at this point in time.

“a-all I see is a sad little man....w-who is insecure about how this world has gotten so far a head of him....a-and that his only little power in this world is gone from his grasp.... I see a sad little man alright.. You are a nobody Dream, you are NO ONE!”

“Tommy...don’t you realize that your life is literally in my hands....does that make you mad? Does that make you sooo mad?” Dream asked as he watched blood gush out from Tommy’s nose. The bruising underneath his eye was starting to get worse and worse.

“I know you won’t kill me Dream....you said it yourself back at your bunker....You can’t say shit to me” Tommy spit to the side, wanting to hurl from how much blood was in his mouth. The taste of iron was overwhelming on his taste buds as it mixed in with his spit. Tears still fell from his cheeks and on to his shirt.

“You can’t kill me Tommy......but I CAN kill you!” 

“I could kill you right now if I wanted to” Dream’s leg clashed behind Tommy’s knee sending him to the floor. Tommy rolled over and attempted to kick Dream back. He escaped his place on the floor and tried to run for the other side of the room. But once he got up he was pushed back down to the floor in a matter of seconds. Tommy flailed as Dream held his ankle in place, the boy kicked and turned but he couldn’t shake his grasp he had on him. He couldn’t give up, he shouldn’t. If his friends and family has taught him anything, it was to not give up.

“And yet you won’t even try to kill me, you’re running away from me in this small cell like I can’t just catch up to you.....you’re so stupid to think that there is a way you can escape me.....do it....do it if you want to...I know you want to kill me Tommy....After everything that I have done to you! DO IT!” Dream shouted as he punched Tommy again and again in the face. Hearing him cough and spit blood on to the flooring beside him. 

“n-n...no....I-I’m leaving soon-”

“You know you want to kill me Tommy....so come on!”

“Stop it ....STOP IT” Tommy struggled to pushed himself away from Dream on the floor. His vision was getting hazy as he pushed himself back as much as he could. All of his energy was gone as he sat there, watching his enemy come closer to him as he sat with his weight on his elbows.

“LOOK AT ME!.....the only reason I’m not going to kill you is because you are locked up in here....and and I’m going to be let out soon and live my life outside of these walls. Knowing that you’ll be trapped in here all alone for the rest of you life.....if I killed you, that would take away all the suffering that you deserve for hurting so many people” Tommy managed to spit out with a laugh as he watched Dream stop right in front of him as he sat there. The blonde weakly tried to push himself back up in to a better sitting position. He was about ready to stand when he slowly raised his head to look back up at Dream standing there in silence.

“I don’t believe the revive book is real Dream.....Schlatt is fucking dead and he should stay that way...I’ve seen his grave....his corpse is there inside that coffin he doesn't deserve....Big Q ate his damn heart for Christ sake....that book isn’t real Dream....so just give up the act alright” Tommy said as he stood up, his knees buckled as his whole body shook standing there. His breathing was uneven and shaky as he watched Dream stand there with no expression on his face. As Tommy slowly started to limp back over to their chest right by the sink to wash the blood off from him he heard footsteps behind him. His body ached as he bent down as best he could to splash his face with water. But once he felt cold hands on his neck he knew what was about to happen next. Dream pulled Tommy away from the sink and banged his head on the side of the edge. Blood dripped from the corner as the gash on Tommy’s forehead opened up wider.

“Then why don’t you go and join him then?” Dream suggested in a monotone voice that sent chills up Tommy’s spin. The frightened boy tried to escape from his grasp around his neck. No matter how hard he struggled Dream’s grip seemed to tighten around his neck. Making it hard for him to breath after a few seconds. Dream slammed Tommy’s head up against the wall this time. Blood smear as his face met with the rock that couldn’t be broken easily by their mining fatigue. BANG,

-----

“Tubbo....do you think we will ever make it big some day?”

“How do you mean Tommy?”

“Like...become well known hero’s or something?” Tommy asked as he fixed his sitting position on the bench that had his name carved in to the side of it along with Tubbo’s. The blonde glanced over at his best friend as he sat there. The sun set shined upon them with orange light as they watched it fall together. Tubbo chewed on his bottom lip in thought, a regular habit he has always had since they were young.

“Yeah”

“You really think so?”

“I think we could in the future.....we’ll become the best known hero’s in the world I tell you Big Man” Tubbo replied with excitement in his voice, even though his was getting hyped up on the thought. Tommy had a rough time believing that that would actually happen. The thought was nice but he felt as if it was to unrealistic at the moment. The blonde brought his hat around and stared down at it. The dream of him being a hero with his best friend by his side was amazing. But how would they even get there, where would they even start. They aren’t even adults yet and they are already fighting in a war. That’s when the thought of their deaths struck him, what would happen if they died and couldn’t return.

“What’s wrong big man?” Tommy jumped as he was brought out of his thoughts by Tubbo’s question. He hated that Tubbo knew him like the back of his hand some times. He didn’t want the brunette to worry about him, he wanted him to worry about his own needs. But Tubbo being the selfless guy he is would always care even if Tommy pushed him away. The blonde set his hat down in his lap carefully before answering. Looking back up at the boy with light shining on his left side.

“What...”

“What’s wrong, you’re doing that thing where you fidget with something as you’re in thought”

“Oh ah....it’s nothing Tubbo”

“Promise?”

“Yeah...I promise...it’s nothing”

“If there is something you know I’m here for you Tommy, I always will be if you forgotten that already”

“I know I know Tubbo....thanks” Tommy replied with a smirk as he seen Tubbo’s grin on his face before he turned to watch the sunset once more. The chill breeze that flew by as they watched it slowly fall below the tree line.

“It’s no problem Big man...I know you would do the same for me”

-----

Blood spilled on to the ground as Tommy cried out for help. His voice was broken and hoarse as he called at for Sam over and over again as his head was banged against the wall over and over. Tears spilled from his eyes as he cried out in the cell. Coughing on his own spit and blood as he continued to scream. The camera in the corner of the room still worked didn’t it? Sam would come to his aid right? Sam promised him he would be protected, that the creeper hybrid would protect him of this foul monster hurting him right now. Was all he said a lie? Was it just to comfort him and that was it? BANG went his head again against the cold wall, blood dripped over his eye from the gash widening on his forehead.

-----

“Wilbur wait up man!”

“Tommy you’re to slow hurry up now we need to head to the tree before sun down. You know how concerned Phil get’s when we aren’t back by 7″ Wilbur yelled back as they ran out toward the tree he claimed with with his initials in the bark. Wilbur had insisted on showing Tommy the sunset that day after watching it himself. The blonde boy was super excited to see what his brother had to show him. He didn’t even care that he didn’t have a jacket to keep him warm in the cold summer breeze.

“We’re almost there, come on Tommy!” Wilbur shouted as they ran up the hill. Finding their tree at the top where no other tree stood. The brunette soon came to a stop, hearing Tommy coming after him as fast as he could. The young boy gazed at the tree, the bright yellow and orange light shined through the leaves down upon them. Tommy laughed as he ran toward the tree after staring at it for a couple of seconds. Wilbur soon chased after him as he ran closer.

“This is AMAZING WILBUR....We need to show Dadza...I want to show Tubbo and Techno. Can we can we please!!” Tommy begged as he held on to Wilbur’s arm. Making the brunette laugh slightly, his hands ruffled up Tommy’s hair before reaching up on to a branch. Wilbur pulled himself up higher in to the tree. Leaving Tommy amazed on the ground as he watched him sit up higher. Wilbur smirked as he held his hand out, meaning he wanted Tommy to join him. The mischievous child smirked as he took a couple of steps back. Running full speed toward the tree, his shoes caught the trunk on a piece of bark as he grabbed a hold of Wilbur’s hand. Having the brunette pull him up to his height and sit down nest to him as they watched the sunset fall.

“We can show them tomorrow if you want to Tommy”

“YES! Thank you Wilby!” Tommy shouted, not even realizing he used his nickname for him. WIlbur laughed softly as he fixed his spot on the tree branch he sat upon. His hand reached in to his pocket and pulled out one of Techno’s knives he used for target practice back at home. He held it out for Tommy to hold, watching his light blue eyes widen in amazement.

“Go on...Write your initials in the tree like I did over here....we’ll get dad and Techno to do it as well” Wilbur replied as he watched the blonde move closer over toward the trunk of the tree. He steadied his hands as he carved a T and an M in to the wood next to Wilbur’s W and M. Except he added Big T underneath his name like he always does with his signature. Th boy looked back at the brunette who smiled at him warmly. A yawn escaped his lips slightly as they sat and watched the sun for a few more minutes in peace.

“Wilbur”

“Yes Tommy?”

“What do you think id going to happen to our initials when we grow older. Will they disappear?”

“No...when we grow older, the tree grows older too. The bark will grow over if we didn’t cut our names deep enough in to the tree”

“Oh......Well I hope when we come back here that they will stay and we can carve them out again” Wilbur smiled softly as he ruffled up Tommy’s hair yet again before jumping back on to the ground. His arms were out wide and waited for the blonde to jump down. Tommy caught what he was trying to do and jumped in to Wilbur’s arms. Not afraid if he was going to drop him or not.

“I hope so too Tommy. This is our own special thing”

“Yeah it is!”

-----

BANG! He was desperate, calling out for anyone. Tubbo, Phil, Techno, Sam, Ranboo, he just needed someone to help him. Some one who cared for his safety, his hope was not all forgotten in this moment. He tried so hard to get out of Dream’s grasp as he held on to him tightly. Leaving bruising from how tight his grip was. No matter how many times Tommy tried, he failed to escape from him. He failed to protect himself all this time, he wasn’t confident in himself fighting Dream. He was much rather terrified then anything else. That’s when his vision started to blur, black dots started to surround his vision around the room. BANG!

-----

“Are you sure Sam if it’s okay that I take a couple minutes for a break” Tommy asked as he walked beside Sam on the path leading to the brand new hotel that had opened up for everyone. Sam smiled softly as he reached over and ruffled up Tommy’s hair slightly. Something Tommy would only let the creeper hybrid do and no one else really at the moment.

“Yes of course I’m sure Tommy, you can always take a break if you need one. I’m not going to make you work if you are tired....Now speaking of breaks, we should probably take care of your hair....Don’t you think it’s getting a little long?” Sam asked as they made it to the front of the hotel with ease. The blonde boy chuckled slightly as he rested his oak logs down by the front he was planning on using later. His wrapped hand reached back and grabbed a hold of his blonde his in a small pony tail. He hasn’t had a haircut since staying at Techno’s house from Phil a couple months back.

“I kind of like the new look Sam....But I probably could have a inch or two cut off....it is starting to get a bit to long for my liking now that I think about it”

“It’s you decision on how you want it Tommy....let me go and grab some scissors real quick so I can help you alright”

“Will do Sam Nook” Tommy smiled softly as he watched him quickly run toward the community house that was rebuilt. The boy sighed softly as he sat down on a chair in the lobby of his hotel. The blonde was so tired of working all day, but was so happy Sam was generous enough to let him rest. He couldn’t have asked for a better mentor and friend by his side. He would never say it but he needed his comfort or else he wouldn’t know where he would be with out him.

-----

“p-please s-stop dream....p-please” Tommy choked out, preparing himself for another blow to his head that came soon after. BANG another time his head was bashed against the wall. Tommy tried as escape once more as he choked on his loss of air. His legs weakly tried to kick Dream in order to break free from him. Yet all the masked villain could do was laugh at his pain and misery as he attempted this plan. Dream took his foot and smashed Tommy’s leg up against the wall forcefully. Breaking the skin on his shins and knees.

-----

“Phil....are you sure that it should be brewd this way....I thought it was with fermented spider eye?”

“Nah mate...in order to make a potion of healing you need nether wart which we just did, glistering melon and glow stone dust to make it a healing potion 2 which I believe is better then a regular one” Phil replied as he pulled out the bottle from the brewing stand and sniffed the top of it. Make sure it was fully brewd this time instead of the last batch he thought was done. Tommy nodded his head slowly as he added the glow stone powder Phil handed him earlier. As he slowly added it in he heard footsteps coming from up stairs. His head jerked to the side and found Techno placing his chest plate on to him self before he slipped his cloak on.

“And where do you think you’re going mate? I thought you were going to take it easy today?” Phil asked without even looking up from his work.

“Going out on a small hunt Phil, shouldn’t take more then an hour out there maybe a bit more. We are running a small bit low on meat and I’m getting sick of eating golden carrots all the time” Techno replied as he rested his cloak on top of his shoulders. Fixing his golden crown on top of his head.

“Can I come too?”

“You want to go hunting? With your loud mouth you’ll scare everything away”

“Oh come on Blade, I’m not that loud”

“There was a spider in your room the other day and you screamed as loud as you could and begged me to kill it”

“T-That is different....I’m not that loud!” Tommy replied, his cheeks red with embarrassment since he knew Phil had no clue about what had happened that night. A nervous laugh left his mouth as he stood there, hearing Phil’s chuckle from behind him. But soon his hand went to his shoulder,

“Come on Techno....I tell you what, you both go hunting and I’ll start making some dinner alright. If you catch anything we’ll add it to the menu. Sound good?” Phil suggested, seeing the look on Techno’s face change. Tommy glanced over at him as he stood by the door, Techno slowly glanced to the side as he rolled his eyes.

“Fine....but I’m not slowing down for you, so you better hurry up before I leave you behind me” Techno replied as he grabbed his boots by the doorway. Smiling softly to himself as he heard Tommy scramble up the stairs behind him to go and grab his gear he needed for the journey.

“He’s growing on you isn’t he?” Tommy could hear Phil’s voice from down the stairs as he was fixing his own chest plate.

“Shut up Phil” Was all Techno replied, making Tommy’s smile grow twice as big then before. It was just like when they were younger again.

-----

BANG.......BANG....The cries soon became quiet after each hit. Tommy’s wrapped hands fell from trying to remove himself from Dream’s grasp around his neck. His arms fell to his sides as his legs gave out underneath him. His body limp as Dream let go, watching his body fall to the floor with a satisfied grin on his face. The message boomed in chat as the notification went wide to everyone that was on or near the area.

Tommyinit was slain by Dream

"It's no problem Tommy, I'm always here for you" Was what the boy thought in the beginning of this madness that surrounded him. His happy thoughts were fresh in his mind as he felt his consciousness slip away from him. Death came knocking at his door in a way he never thought would really happen. He was finally free of the pain that surrounded him, yet unsatisfied with his outcome. He didn’t die a hero, he died a victim that couldn’t do anything to prevent his death. What would everyone else think upon seeing his dead corpse. Yet all of his thoughts were now away from him as darkness surrounded his vision. He felt himself be stretched as he was in the void, a place no one was familiar with. He turned his head back and forth to see if there was anything around him. Anyone for that matter, was he dead? Was his final life taken from him? Tommy sighed as he started to walk forward, with one last turn of his head he stopped and just stared. Stared at the brunette he hasn’t seen in forever. He thought fear would be gone, but it only returned with anxiety as he seen him. Him and his worried and confused stare.

“W-Wilbur?”

“Hello Tommy”

#sleepy bois inc #sleepyboisinc #sleepy bois au #sleepy bois family #dream smp tommy #tommyinnit #tommyinit mcyt #dsmp tommy #awesamdude #awesamdude dream smp #awesamdad #awesamdude dsmp #dreamwastaken #dream smp #dream smp au #dream smp angst #wilbur soot #Wilbur soot mcyt #tommy and wilbur #technoblade #technothepig #technoblade mcyt #philza #tubbo #tubbo mcyt #dsmp wilbur #dsmp fanfic #dreamsmp fanfiction #sam nook #awesamfam

[square-blunt]

Even though you're never there I didn't feel you disappear.

WOOOOOOOOO I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN THREE DAYS LET'S FUCKING GO WITH A MUMZA & MR. TOMMY DANGER CAREFUL KRAKEN INNIT FIC WITH A THEMES OF REGRET AND CLOSURE WIHT A SPECIAL APPEARANCE FROM HAPPY GHOSTBUR AND FRIEND BC WILBUR SOOT CAN SUCK MY FUCKING DICK LETS FUCKING GO

Tw- a slight bit of a panic attack, but it doesn't last long at all, only a line or two, uh, death mention, Tommy's normal 'I love women' humor, I've taken the liberty to add some of my own hc about how this whole thing works and it's better than what ever Soot (derogatory) could come up with bc i say so. Wc: 4200 (lmfao 420 lol haha) AO3: here

-

Tommy regrets a lot of things. He doesn’t realize how much until he’s walking back from the hotel one cold, windy night. Nothing he would admit, oh no, he would never do that. It was only a way for people to target him more.

‘Talk less, smile more,’ Wilbur would say, ‘everything you say can be used by our enemies.’ And Tommy took that to heart… later than he should have. After Exile to be exact.

‘There’s a reason you never told Techno about what happened,’ Puffy had said, ‘you were scared he would use your trauma against you.’ And she was right… to a point. All this 'would say', 'had said', it didn’t matter to Tommy, it couldn't matter less because what’s done is done, what’s said is said, and who’s gone… is gone. Forever. There’s no point in fighting the unfightable. Battle, person, there was no point. The last time he reached to try and change anything he got killed- he was abandoned, again, and left to die. He knows his situation isn’t fair- Puffy’s told him so, Eret’s told him so, Ranboo’s told him so- but that doesn’t change the fact that it is. It is unfair that he can’t… have things, people. As soon as he makes something for himself, people try and take it away from him, as soon as he finds something that makes him happy they get snatched out of his hands, as soon as he finds people who are willing to help him, unapologetically, no strings attached, they are murdered in front of him. It isn’t fair, and no one else seems to see it. That’s something he regrets. Letting it get this bad. Because if all of this is happening to him, is being blamed on him, there must be something wrong, right? Ranboo doesn’t remember things, so maybe he did something awful and just… doesn’t remember. He burnt George’s house down, and if that warrants Dream’s abuse for months then he could have done anything to deserve everything else. To have almost everything and everyone he loves to be taken away from him time and time again. He couldn’t show emotion about it either, because he would be punished then, too. His best friend got blown up and he- he fucking- says something about how that’s not fair and then- he gets beat to death in a fucking box- for the crime of- fucking, what would that even count as, questioning the great Technoblade?

‘Oops- sorry- you enjoyed your music a little too much I’m going to kill your best friend and throw you in the prison for it, shouldn’t have done that, Tommy, c’mon now you now better-’ It was fucking ridiculous. He can’t understand why his consequences are so extreme compared to everyone else- Schlatt still got a grave for fuck’s sake! He has no fucking idea if anyone ever made him one- he knows Tubbo did, but Tommy and Tubbbo- Tubbo is the only one who actually gives to fucks about him at this point. Ranboo might be another, but with his memory shit, it’ll only be a matter of time before all he knows of Tommy is what other people tell him. Puffy’s only doing therapy for him because she feels guilty about losing Foolish, Eret, as much as he cares about her, is really only by his side because she feels she has a debt to pay, he’s the one following Wilbur around, fuck what Sam used to be to Tommy, Quackity was only going to get worse, Jack and Niki tried to fucking blow him up- anyone else who has unapologetically been by his side has been killed right in front of him. Everyone who has ever stood up for him has been killed in front of him or almost been killed in front of him- maybe that’s why. Maybe that’s why no one wants to be on his side because they’re afraid of the trouble he brings.

He’s a liability. They don’t want to die- so they’d rather let him die than risk anything.

He’s not a kid.

He’s something to avoid like the plague, and anyone who even remotely cared about him caught it. He feels tears sting his eyes. He hears a big gust of wind shake the trees before it whips around him- carrying a voice. A familiar voice. It whispers in his ear and settles in his mind, soft, like a blanket, he can hear it clear as day, asking if he needs anything, asking what his favorite thing in the world is, crying- crying out that he’s scared- asking with tears burning his face if it’ll be alright, ‘You promised I’d be ok!’

He regrets failing Ghostbur the most out of everything. He regrets not spending enough time with him, he regrets not telling him how much he meant to him- he sprints the rest of the way home. The digs through all his chests, his ender chest, not stopping until he finds-

“Blue, blue, blue, where is it- fuckin- please tell me I have some left, no- fuck where is it? What happened to it- please tell me- oh thank fuck- thank fuck-” After combing through the same two chests multiple times, he finally finds a few handfuls of blue left. Choking back a sob, he sees what's left of the clear turn blue and grow heavy in his hands. Ghostbur remarked that any blue he gave Tommy turned blue on contact, that it was odd, because it only happened with a few other people- Phil and Eret. People with towering regret. Phil must have regretted killing Wilbur… Eret, well, Tommy knows all too well their regret. Tommy was never able to place exactly what his regrets were.

He knows now that his regrets have only grown to encompass everything he knows.

Fuck, he feels so guilty about Ghostbur- it was Tommy's fault, wasn't it? He blamed Sam in the moment, but it really was… he was the one who told Ghostbur what to do- he was the one to use him to get into the prison in the first place. And he had to try and- calm him down- his fear still haunts Tommy's nightmares. Because he did promise. He did promise everything would be ok. But it wasn't, Tommy botched it, and Dream- Tommy had to watch- shit, it was his fault. Ghostbur is gone and there's nothing he can do to bring him back. He doesn't know anything about resurrection, and he- maybe- what if he agreed to let dream out if he got ghostbur back- no, no- no, no that's exactly what Dream wants. He wants Tommy to feel as though he's his only option. So Dream still has control. He… the last thing he wants for Ghostbur is to become a trading point. On the verge of tears, the blue changes in his hands. That never happened before- the blue changing. He looks down, and sees that the blue has turned into wool.

He hears a sheep bleat happily outside his door.

He scrambles up, moving faster than he has in a while, throwing his door open- he's not at his house. He's… not in the server even- what the hell-

It's still nighttime, but the stars are thousands of times brighter than he remembers. Instead of the prime path ahead of him, there's a quartz walkway spanning under tall birch and spruce trees; it seems that the stars are in the leaves, too. He looks behind him, hoping to hide back in his house- but it's not there. Instead, a quartz and mossy cobble archway, with more quartz pathing spilling out behind it. Tommy… might be stuck here. But he doesn't start to panic. He feels a strange kind of calm. Like this realm will let him out when his business is done. But he doesn't know what his business is.

He feels the weight leave his hands. He looks down- and the blue wool has turned clear. It's turned into delicate spindles of… something. Back to its original state. That has… never happened to Tommy before.

He looks past his hands, and the path lights up where his feet are. He jumps around a little, the light disappearing when his feet leave the path, and reappearing as they make contact again.

He laughs.

He dances around, his smile growing bigger.

The stars and the leaves seem to laugh with him.

"Hello, Tommy." a soft voice says behind him. A woman's voice.

Tommy stops, turning around, his grip tightening around the… well, it's not blue anymore, is it?

The woman is standing under the archway, tall, wearing black robes that flow around wings that are tucked neatly behind her, her long black hair almost seems a dark purple when it catches the light. To top it all off, she has a large black hat, similar to a witch’s hat, but Tommy understands that she doesn't want to hurt him. But he can never be too careful.

"Who- who the fuck are you?" Tommy says, defensively.

"Please, don't tell me that's how you greet every woman you come across?" She says, lightness in her voice and laughter in her eyes.

"Only the ones who trap me in weird- what is this place?" Tommy mutters, then asks.

"This is my home," she says clasping her hands together in front of her. "I figured you might need some closure."

"It's very pretty," Tommy murmurs again, looking down at his feet.

"Thank you, Tommy, I-"

"Wait, how do you know my name? I've never seen you before, and trust me, I would remember if I had met you." Tommy says, trying to lighten the small ball of worry in his chest. The woman laughs.

"Oh, you are exactly like my husband-"

"Oh no- You're married? Why?? A woman like you can't be tied down to just one man-"

"Tommy!" The woman laughs more.

"Augh- you're tall- you're so fucking tall and dark and mysterious- fucking hell you're tall- like I'm comfortable enough in my masculinity but still-" Tommy laughs, "and you're wearing all black- who's funeral are you going to?" he adds sarcastically. His face falls as her mood noticeably changes more somber.

"Everyone's- and no one's." she takes a few steps forward, and sighs. "My name is Kristin, Goddess of death."

"...what- i- how can- Wait a minute- oh fuck am I dead again- Wait a fucking minute where the hell were you the first three times I died- or for Tubbo- or for- Wilbur- Ghost- Ghostbur? Mexican Dream? Are they here? What do you fucking mean goddess of death? Is this the afterlife? Why the fuck didn't we go here-"

"Tommy, Tommy, I understand that you are.. allowed to ask questions, I called you here against your will- I will let you go back, I promise, and I'm going to try and answer all of your questions. Shall we walk?" She steps up, offering an arm.

Tommy is hesitant. If she… is actually the goddess of fucking death itself does he even have a choice? He nods and takes her arm. He immediately is filled with a cozy warmth- like drinking hot chocolate on a snowy day, finally getting in bed after working all night, a warmth that feels like home, like rest. Tommy muses if that's what a true, honest to prime death would feel like. When your joints finally stop aching, your breath stops rattling around your lungs.

His didn't feel like rest.

He wonders if he'll have a true death- he wonders if his joints will ever stop aching, because they do already. His breath rattles around in his lungs. Will he ever feel rested? With everything he's been through, with all the guilt he's got, probably not.

"Tommy-" Kristin begins to say,

"Are you an American? You sound-" Tommy tries to postpone the conversation he knows she's about to start

"Tommy-" she sighs, but he knows she's not mad.

"I know, I know, I use humor to cope with my trauma and to avoid talking about it, Puffy's told me this." Tommy quickly says. He feels something light brush his other arm- a feather, Kristin's put her wing around him.

"Puffy's smart, you should listen to her." Kristin nods. "But even Einstein didn't have all the answers-"

"Who?"

"-so you still should ask questions." She waves away his confusion with a motherly smile. "And you've asked plenty. And I have plenty of answers. So, one, no. You aren't dead. I simply realm hopped you to me. Any doorway can become a gateway, and it is quite easy to make one for someone like me. Something that I can't do, however, is help with pre-set death rules. Each timeline we make- just plain old 'live your life and die' got boring, so we shook it up. You all got canon lives, which… are completely not up to me. I do not get to decide which death is canon or not, and I don't get to even interact with your spirits until the third."

"Ok, then I wanna talk with the motherfucker who is in charge of those because I have a few words for them-"

"Tommy, trust me, you don't. While you are of great interest to them, and they do like you a lot, they are not going to budge on things. They are stubborn as hell- but they're a storyteller."

"Well, they're fucking stupid whoever they are."

"Although, something they- any of us really- didn't plan for was Dream having the revive book- or the revive book getting stolen from my husband in the first place. I can't tell you how many meetings I had to sit in to try and convince the others not to smite him off his earth- but that's a story for another time. Because of Dream knowing… the contents of that book, he was able to hold souls from coming to me, and he was able to place them wherever he liked. He didn't do Wilbur's soul correctly, however. His soul slipped through the cracks and got placed in… he called it limbo? That caused some issues for Dream that I'll tell you about later, but he messed up again, placing Mexican Dream in a limbo of his own, but those circumstances allowed me to save his soul from Dream-"

"Wait if you could save MD then why not-"

"Wilbur, like I said, slipped away from Dream and fell into his limbo. But, because Dream had no hand in actually directly placing Wilbur there, I wasn't able to save him. Not to mention, the manner of his death…. Nevertheless, I was able to save Mexican Dream from his limbo. In hindsight, I maybe shouldn't have, because Dream learned from that and you… you were placed somewhere I can't even access-"

"The void," Tommy whispers. He doesn't want to think about it, he shifts closer to Kristin, holding tighter to the fluff in his hand and onto Kristin's arm. She, in turn, holds him closer with her wing.

"There's an in-between life and death, and an in-between here and the limbos. Pockets of emptiness, waiting to be filled. More people find themselves there than you think, but even fewer who find their way out- you, and one of our own. There have been others, but your entire life has been different. Do you remember your life before the SMP?" she asks, softly. "You don't have to answer, but it's something to think about."

"I just want- Wilbur said that his limbo was awful. That he was there for thirteen years and that it was awful, and now because of me Ghostbur is there, too…" The black hole in his past is the last thing he wants to think about, so he changes the subject- guilt radiating off him.

"Remember the reason why I couldn't save Wilbur?" she asks, a twinkle in her voice.

"Because Dream didn't put him there- you can only save people who got put somewhere they weren't supposed to be?" Tommy looks up at her, hope tingling in his chest.

"Because Wilbur's soul fell… as naturally as it could have, Dream had to find a soul to replace Wilbur's with- with you, there was no need to find a soul to replace, because he had your soul in his hand, but for Wilbur, it was a… natural resurrection. With a missing soul, the entire continuum would collapse. So, he swapped Wilbur with Ghostbur. He placed Ghostbur somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. I was able to save him. Would you like to see him?" she smiles down at him.

"Wait he-" Tommy stops, his head spinning. Kristin stops too.

"He's safe. He's safe, and it's actually because of you. Because of that book- you can only place a soul in the void once. That was you. He had to put Ghostbur somewhere I could get him, or else his plan falls apart. Now… I can show you where Ghostbur is. But, I can't let him see you, or let you talk to each other. It's a precaution we have to take-"

"No, no, that's fine I just want to make sure he's- that he's- that I'm not-" Tommy shakes his head, trying to clear his mind, he feels like a vice has been released- one of many, but it's one. He takes a long shaky breath and nods his head. "I want to make sure that he's happy."

"Alright, come with me." She leads Tommy off the path and into the trees. Tommy hadn't lied when he said it was pretty. He has lighter steps now, and his smile is bigger than it was when he got here. They walk a little ways, Tommy sprinting when he hears the sound of familiar laughter, bright and carefree. He peeks out from behind a tree to see a clearing with a small house, mossy stone bricks, wood, and- and cobblestone. And, one semi-translucent ghost sitting behind a wall, in a garden of blue and yellow flowers, giggling. He's got a new sweater, still yellow, but there aren't any stains on it- blue or red. It's just… yellow. Pure yellow.

"I also pulled a few strings after that Skeppy incident," Kristin says, coming up behind Tommy, and Tommy perks up as he hears Ghostbur laugh again, this time a blue sheep running around the wall and up to Ghostbur.

"You found me! Good job, Friend!" Tommy hears Ghostbur say. Tommy feels a sting in his eyes, and then a hand on his back.

"You promise he's happy?" Tommy whispers.

"I swear," Kristan answers. Ghostbur stands and says something to the sheep, who bounds away. Ghostbur begins to count- backward from 10. Tommy doubles over, clutching his stomach.

"Tommy?" Kristin crouches down next to him, rubbing circles into his back.

"Counting down from 10 is not a good thing, I've decided," Tommy says, looking ahead, as Ghostbur laughs his wonderful laugh and disappears around the wall. His throat becomes dry, he doesn't want to cry in front of a goddess.

"It wasn't your fault." Kristin stands next to him, Tommy straightening up to meet her.

"Wasn't it?" he feels a tear run down his face, as he stares at the spot in that gates where Ghostbur was just moments ago.

"It was Dream's, as are so many others. Just because he punished you, doesn't mean it wasn't his fault, to begin with. Chances are, it was his fault more than anyone else's," Kristin says, her hand still running Tommy's back. He sniffles. "Are you ready to go?"

"No."

"I know, I'm sorry." Kristin's hand leaves his back, and it takes all his willpower to turn away from the small cottage and follow her. They make it back to the path, and she stops, "Oh, he gave this to me, but I don't really need it, so here. Have some blue."

That's when Tommy cries.

She's holding out a handful of light blue wool, he opens his left hand to show his one wool, now a dark blue. He reaches out, quickly, snatching it out of her hands, and he sobs out a sorry. The blue, once again, turns dark blue on contact. Then it turns clear- and then immediately turns dark blue again. It fluctuates between clear, and every shade of blue, as more and more tears fall from his face. He blocks out Kristin's words on habit- Wilbur would be telling him to suck it up by now. He tries to stop the tears, to stop sobbing, to regain composure, but he can't.

"I- I- I've- I'm a murd- I murdered pe- people- I'm not- a good p- person- why- did he tr- eat me like- I was- he treat- they tre- treated me like- like- like- like a human- when no- no one else- did- and- look at- look at where that got h- him-" Tommy turns his face into Kristin's side, and she hugs him close, closing her wings around him too. He holds the blue up to his face, letting the tears catch in it.

"Tommy, there's a reason they chose you. It's because they saw what you could be- who you could be. They wanted to help you. They knew, under all that doubt and hurt and regret was a boy who loved his friends. And they love you, too. I swear on it." She keeps rubbing circles into his back, letting Tommy cry. "I know all about sorrow, Tommy," she says, kind, "I understand that you will hurt. There's no bringing back who you lost, and it will hurt for as long as you live- but that hurt is proof that you care. It's proof that you are a good person. You are a good person."

Tommy breathes in a long shuddering breath, and lets it out, moving his arms to hug her back.

"Thank you, mom- oh wait I'm sorry-" Tommy pulls back, absolutely mortified at his slip-up, Kristin just laughs- not at Tommy, no, no, it's happy… motherly.

"No, Tommy, I can be your mother if you'd like!" She smiles.

"Yeah, because Puffy is kinda my dad because Phil didn't really do a good job." Tommy looks down at his feet.

"Oh, of course, I think my husband would be fine with adopting another kid. Although, considering what happened to the first one- I'm kidding, I'm kidding, he could have turned out worse," Kristin laughs, holding Tommy’s face and wiping away the tear marks.

"Wait- wasn't I flirting with you a few minutes ago-" Tommy smiles, laughing too.

"Oh my-"

"Welp, you're still my mother now- that makes you a milf, you're welcome!" Tommy doesn't mean anything by it, of course, he's just pointing it out.

"Tommy!!" Kristin laughs harder, and Tommy's smile grows bigger. "We should get you back anyways, you need some sleep."

"But moooooooom-" Tommy complains, joking, of course.

"Now, now, Tommy, I am your mother, I know what's best," Kristin says, picking up the bit.

"My stomach hurts, do I have to go to school tomorrow?" Tommy jokes, walking back towards the archway.

"Oh dear," Kristin tsks, walking next to him, putting the back of her hand up to his forehead, "You don't seem to have a fever at the moment, we'll see how you feel in the morning."

They laugh and joke around until they reach the portal, and she reaches up to pluck a feather from her hat and hand it to Tommy.

"A token for my son. Something you can flaunt around. Also- can you do me a favor?" Kristen smiles.

"Oh, of course!" Tommy gingerly takes the feather and spins it around in his fingers.

"When you get back, can you just tell my husband I said hi? He'll see it." She looks through the empty portal longingly, and Tommy wonders who this husband is.

"If he ever hurts you I'll kill him, " He says, completely serious.

Kristin laughs, "I know you will, Tommy, I know you will. Thank you." She snaps her fingers and the archway leads into his house. She ruffles his hair, and Tommy playfully swats her hand away. "I'll see you again, be safe, ok?"

"I will. Tell Ghostbur, if you can, that…. Tell him that I'm sorry, and that I miss him?" He says, one foot through the gateway, before stopping and looking back.

"I will. Good luck, Tommy.” She smiles, and Tommy can’t help but smile back. He steps through the portal, and looks back one last time- and it’s gone. He sees those oak doors, the prime path outside, he hears Shroud above him. His smile stays.

/msg all: Hey, Kristin’s husband? She says hi.

He laughs.

/msg all: She also adopted me so I’m your son now, good luck L kekw

With that, he closes his communicator and lets the chaos ensue. He spins the feather in one hand and holds the blue- back in its original... substance? He opens his ender chest, placing the blue somewhere he knows he’ll find it, and lays the feather next to his discs.

“Thank you. I’ll do you proud.”

#im so fucking mad #i posted this without a fucking title #and you can't go back and add one? #tumblr wtf????? #anyways i might do a second chapter of this from phils pov directly after this one takes place #so lmk if yall would be intrested #anyways #gremfics #c!tommy #tommyinnit #dsmp tommy #c!mumza #mumza #dsmpmumza #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp writing #ghostbur #friend the sheep #panic attack tw #c!tommy pod #c!techno crit kinda? #also c!phil crit if you squint #so #c!techno crit #c!phil crit #uhhhhhhhhhh #death threat tw

[izzy-is-chaotic]

Okay so I saw this HC that Grian was related to Philza, but no one knows how.

SO NEW HEADCANON TIME BABY!!

All watchers are related to matter what. Not by blood, by power. The more servers watched, the more players participating in the missions, the more players recruited to be trained, the more power. If watchers are killed, then they lose their power, and many watchers get a little weaker. 

Philza used to be a watcher, for a very long time. He rose up the ranks, watched many servers, trained many soon to be watchers, but he wasn’t completely satisfied. There was something missing. He was about to tell his higher up that he wanted his powers taken away, to be a player, but he had one more task. The last watcher in training he was given was different than the others. He was short, had dirty blonde hair, blue eyes that were already tinted purple from being given his powers, and would wear the same red jumper every day. He was also a child (okay okay he was 17, almost 18, but Phil was centuries old, everyone was a child to him).

“You’re giving me a child to train?!”

“Well, yeah. He was the best candidate from the server we were watching. He has unusual power for his age.”

“But-!”

“No buts. Just train him Philza…”

“…fine”

Now Philza Minecraft had to train this child, Grian, to be a watcher. Over months of training, Phil… connected with him. He new they were connected by power, all watchers were, but Grian almost became a son to Phil. They trusted each other, and Grian told Phil so many things he wouldn’t tell anyone else. Phil knew about YHS, how Grian couldn’t age because of TS, about everything in EVO. He was so energetic, but so chill sometimes. So loud, but would keep to himself at times. He was funny, and could be careless, but cared about his friends. It felt like his whole being was a contradiction, and this child filled that void Phil had being a watcher.

But he couldn’t be in training forever. Soon, Grian was done training with Phil, and was going to be transferred to someone else to learn bedrock bending. After their last training session, this happened.

“Will I see you again?”

“I don’t know G. I was never any god at bedrock bending, so you might be assigned to building servers instead of watching them.”

“Are you serious?! I love training with you tho!”

“I love training you too, but you know the rules.” Someone knocked on the training hall door “I think someones here to get you Grian.”

Grian went in for a hug. Once they let go he grabbed his bad and started to the door.

“Well, bye dad, I’ll miss you!”

“Dad…?”

“I mean- shit- bye Phil!” He sputtered out, sprinting out the room.

“I’ll miss you too son…”

Phil finally gave up his watcher powers after that. Grian was the only reason he stayed after all. Years went by, and he did many things that he never got to do, but that he can now that he’s a player. He played Hardcore, fell in love, had a kid, made a life-long friend. So much stuff happened, but that void was back. Something was missing again. He was ready to settle down.

And a seemingly chill server called the DreamSMP felt like a good place.

And while he was there, he saw someone that brought back many, many memories. He was tall, had blonde hair, blue eyes, and wore the same white shirt with red trim on it every day. He was so energetic, so loud, and a little careless. But he could also be so chill, so quiet, and cared about his friends.

“… Grian?”

“Who the fuck is Grian?! I’m Tommy! Tommyinnit!”

“Oh! Sorry, I mistook you for someone else. You remind me a lot of them. I’m Philza. Philza Minecraft.”

“Nice to meet you Philza!

A new child, just like the one from before.

That void was filled again.

#izzyischaotic #I’m not beta reading this #deal with the typos if there are any

[shyrose57]

Brothers anon, sorry this keeps taking me a while to send, been very busy lately.

He only had a hunch at first he was his ancestor but later talking with Karl confirmed it. I have yet to decide, I think he probably will just so I can focus more on the current events and not his past. 

He solely relys on his instincts when around other endermen. Although when around Ran he relys more on his social interaction skills. Though he still does certain things (like no eye contact, he leaves two blocks for Ran as a show of care and harmlessness, and sometimes warbling at Ran) due to his instincts. For other enderman it generally works out well, they mostly leave Ranboo alone anyway. But for Ran, he doesn't care much.

He is aware of Enderwalk Ranboo, mostly cause Phil warned him about it. His interactions with Enderwalk Ranboo are mostly Enderwalk Ranboo entering his room and trying to get close to Ran only for Ran to really full heartily growl and lash out at him when he gets close. Then Enderwalk Ranboo whines and leaves. Ranboo is hesitant but welcoming and open to Ran all the time, mostly because holy shit its another enderman hybrid, he thought he was the only one! And Ranboo can tell the two share a bit of similarities but mostly just thinks its because there both enderman hybrids. 

Karl manages to convince the Artic Commute to leave the two alone and once they leave starts to question Ran. Only to pretty often get cut off by him asking a retaliation question. Ran is angry and desperately wants to know everything, Karl is scared and wants to know everything Ran knows. So they eventually come to a agreement where Karl asks a question, Ran answers then he asks a question and Karl answers that. After a while of this they come to an agreement to wait til Ran is fully healed to start to find a way to get him back. And in the meantime Karl'll explain his timetravel stuff and how Ran got here, hoping to get the Commute to agree to help them find a way to get Ran home. 

A mix of annoyed, angry, relieved, and homesick (cause Tubbo reminds him of Jackie). Bit of both, he wants to know whats going on and where Ran came from, but is also just curious about the other hybrid. Tubbo heads to the Artic cause Ranboo hasn't been over at all in weeks, keeps saying he's to busy and how something interesting happened at the Artic. So Tubbo gets tired of it and decides to head over to find out whats keeping Ranboo from visiting. Ye medic Eret, I was originally thinking of medic Bad but I think I may try to include the Egg in this somewhere so he's not a option. They have a mutual relationship, no one there really has a reason to dislike him or to heavily like him, but they all get along whenever they meet. Eret learns by Phil contacting him for help, cause while Techno and Phil both know some health knowledge they don't know enough to properly treat Ran and make the call to call in Eret to help, both trusting them enough to keep this secret between all of them. Karl learns because of Eret actually, Eret comes to Karl for help to see if he has any enderman biology books and half handly mention how a enderman needs help, leading to Karl asking if its Ranboo or Edward, the no he gets in response alarms him enough to back Eret into a corner and force him to tell him who was there that needed help. All Eret said was a dark enderman with green eyes, which reminds Karl of Ran and gets him panicked enough to go see if its him. Tubbo knows cause he gets impatient of waiting for Ranboo to vist so he vists with no warning, leading to him meeting Ran while looking for Ranboo. Its kept hush hush cause their all unsure of how the rest of the SMP would react to having Ran there, especially when it's revealed he's from the future. 

He did. He's not having fun. Karl used too but not anymore since he's time travled so much he's gotten used to it.

Partially, he understands all common though is only able to speak a medium amount, mostly due to his mouth and vocal cords are just unable to make some words or sounds needed to speak it. When that happens they basically play charades. He is still Technos roommate and is happily helping Ranboo in anyway he can. 

------------------------

They steal anything they can get their grubby hands on. It actually goes pretty well as well shockingly. They mostly steal anything that looks expensive, though they manage to find a bunch of raw material like gold, iron, and even diamonds and steal all of that. And they get far enough no one can find them at first. 

Thats exactly what happened, they make eye contact, hear a ruckus from nearby, make eye contact again, then fucking book it away from the sounds. 

The most trouble the group makes is when Grievous makes fun of Porkums hat and gets punched for it. 

Honestly with all the wars and battles that go on in the SMP he probably doesn't even bat a eye, its probably normal for him. 

First thing Jackie does is complain about everyone being taller than him. I imagine Pogtopia being abandoned for years hasn't left it in a very stable state. So Jackie just steps in the wrong place and gets sent tumbling down, with rocks falling after trapping him. 

All happened after they met Karl, but all happened at different times. So for example, the Wild West where thrown back 3 years after meeting Karl. While for the Haunted Mansion crew, they where thrown back months after meeting Karl. Even though they've all met him before their reactions are slightly different depending on how long ago they met Karl. Again for example Sherman and Jon Jon greeted Karl like a old friend and were happy to see him again. While all of the Haunted Mansion crew greeted Karl with questions as they more recently saw him so didn't feel the need to say hello. Cause Isaac and Karl are both in Kinoko Kingdom, where Karl holds all of his books about the time travel journeys, Karl is able to bring Isaac to the books and show him the City of Mizu Book, along with the others that explain who they people he was with where. Plus Isaac just doesnt really have a reason to not believe Karl as he has never lied to him or anything.

Im guessing you mean after the search party is formed, then its actually Ran found first since he's so close. Karl has to try to convince Ran to join them so they can count him as found and then take him to a holding type area. Ran refuses at first and Karl gives him a ultimatum that he either goes with them and gets to go home or stays here forever. He eventually agrees to come with if he gets to search with them, and reluctantly Karl agrees. Karl does what any of the Tales people joining them on their search, but much to his dismay more people insist on joining them. Ran also actually has information on the Bandits but refuses to give it until they find Jackie, cause he has a bad feeling that something happened to him. Ran actually has his left hand bandaged cause a massive piece of glass went through his hand. Jackie will eventually get his arm in a sling due to a broken bone. Ranbulter and James suffer hypothermia and have to be taken care of by Bad (the Egg doesn't exist in this au). Zack slips trying to get away from the Bandits and twists his ankle. Sherman breaks a finger trying to get out of the ravine. And Benjamin gets a slash on his leg after trying to run from Drowned and getting grazed by the trident. Both sides goals are getting back home. Though it's harder for the Tales cause not all of them get along. Karl gets worn down over time and slowly becomes more distressed and hopeless about getting them home. And all the stress builds up til he just snaps and sadly, quite a few people are in the line of fire when he snaps.

From Future To Past AU:

What led to him suspecting Ranboo to be his ancestor?

Do certain blocks have certain meanings, then? For Endermen?

Enderboo sounds very sad and put-out. How is he generally in this AU, seeing as Phil's aware of his existence at the least? How does Ran feel about his visits, and what are his thoughts on when it happens? Are Ender hybrids rare in general, if he's so surprised to see another one?

How'd Karl convince him? How do the two currently view each other, and what were their previous interactions beforehand, if Ran's reaction to him was so upset, and Karl was spooked? How do they get along after?

How does the rest of the Arctic react to Tubbo's presence, and how do our two Endermen feel about the possible tension-considering Ranboo's closeness to Tubbo, and Ran being reminded of Jackie. What are you thinking, egg-wise? Why does Eret go to Karl for books? Is his library well-known?

So Karl could possibly help Ran out with the effects? Or is at least aware of them? Or no?

Charades with them all sounds like so much fun, honestly. Can you imagine it?? And good! We need more Edward around!

---------------------

Tip Of The Iceberg AU:

Good for them. Do they end up having to return the stuff later, or no?How does it go when Las Nevadas realizes who the thieves are?

Common sense isn't dead! Huzzah! Absolutely hilarious image though.

Good for Porkums, honestly.

That is also true! And really funny image, once again. Eret's just like- 'ah, my window, mysteriously broken. Again. Absolutely shocking. Whatever will I do.' Completely deadpan while they pull out supplies from a chest kept nearby for this exact thing.

Everyone else: Where are we? Are we in danger? What happened?

Jackie: How dare you all be taller than me.

That's not good though. How do they and the others react to that?

Have certain events of the Tales been altered then? Seeing as some of them would be dead otherwise? Or were they revived when they were thrown back in time?

How do all the Smp members react to these random people who popped up seeming to know Karl? 'never lied to him' implies Issac knows Karl a bit more beyond just meeting him now, so what's with that? Is he just naturally trusting of him, or do they know each other?

How does that first interaction go, not just between Karl and Ran, but with the others with them? What information does he have on the bandits, and how did he get it? Similar past as before, seeing as Jackie remains so important to him?

Poor Tales. None of them are having fun, huh? Where are they all housed after this, and what are relationships like as of now? Do the groups stick together from era, or with whoever they just get along with best? How do they interact with certain Smp members?

And what happens both during and in the aftermath of Karl snapping?

#dream smp #dream smp au #tales from the smp #karl jacobs #ranboo #Tip Of The Iceberg AU #From Future To Past AU

[pparkerpoetry]

Face Reality (Part 18)

Title: The Stories All End (but this time, it ends well)

Summary: Ranboo's story comes to a close, because after seeing his family, he's realized that not only is he safe, but he his happy.

Chapter One

Masterlist

Ranboo laughed as he chased Tommy across the countryside. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and they were out of the house, on their way to visit Eret’s castle and all of the people that lived near there.

He overtook Tommy because his legs were so long, which caused Tommy to squawk indignantly. “Oh, that’s it, bitch boy,” Tommy trilled, leaping into the air and flapping his wings to gain speed.

“That’s not fair!” Ranboo called ahead, still sprinting, though his side was starting to hurt.

It didn’t take long for Tommy to get tired too, so they both slowed down to walk the rest of the way. Before long, the colorful building came into view and two figures walked towards them.

“Tommy, Ranboo!” Fundy shouted. “You came!”

“Of course we did, big man!” Tommy yelled back, and Ranboo smiled. It was nice here. It felt safe.

Eret was behind Fundy, and he showed them the castle. They didn’t need a tour, since it had been built forever, but they oohed and ahhed at the restoration. There were flags everywhere, the stone was smooth, and it looked so welcoming.

Fundy was hovering around them constantly, making all sorts of little snuffles and barks.

Eventually, Ranboo asked about it.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Eret said. “It’s just that visiting you guys yesterday triggered his thin day, so he’s been pretty playful. We played fetch this morning.”

Fundy scowled, but his face lifted. “Puffy and Niki are here, I can hear them coming.”

It was true, the footsteps of the two ladies echoing through the halls a little later. They were smiling too, and Ranboo hadn’t felt this at ease since before Phil and Techno had visited.

Greetings were exchanged, and so began the day of relaxing. It was like a vacation, and Ranboo could tell that it was doing wonders for Tommy.

The morning flew by too fast, and during lunch, Fundy couldn’t sit still. He was anxious and twitchy and everyone tried their best to just let it be, since he couldn’t help it, but Tommy just wanted to eat his sandwich in peace.

“Fundy,” he asked, “do you want to go outside?” No one could tell if he was joking, least of all the fox.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Fundy grumbled. “You’re a jerk.”

Tommy made a face. “I’m not making fun of you. Do you want to go outside? I bet I could toss the ball pretty fucking far with my strong arms.”

No one missed the way that Fundy’s eyes lit up. “You’re sure you’re not messing with me?”

“No,” Tommy smiled, “I just want to spend time with my nephew.”

“I’m still older than you,” Fundy teased, but his eyes were still filled with tears from the genuine love from Tommy.

As it turns out, the strong arms weren’t so strong, but Tommy fixed that by flying up before throwing the ball, which resulted in Fundy running some pretty long distances. Neither seemed to mind, because they stayed outside for a good few hours, leaving the others inside to talk.

“So, what made you guys visit today?” Eret asked, adjusting their crown.

Ranboo winced. “Well, Tommy had a bit of an issue with Phil and got pretty upset, so I figured this would be a good break.”

“What happened?” Niki asked, concerned.

His mind went back to the look of pure fear that had been on Tommy’s face. “From what I can gather, Phil asked to preen his wings as a sort of bonding experience, but instead of feeling nice, the preening hurt? Neither one of them are taking it well. Technoblade told me this morning before we left that Philza had been crying.”

Puffy snorted lightly. “Sounds like he’s realizing how messed up his actions were.”

Niki nodded, but looked doubtful. “Has Technoblade made up for everything yet? Because if it were me, I wouldn’t forgive him. Not in a million years.”

Ranboo paused. “I mean, he did a lot of research for me and figured out why I had more than two thin days. Sam told you about that, right?”

“But has he apologised,” Niki stressed. “I want the best for you, Boo. Has he actually apologized and made things better?”

“I think…” he trailed off, thinking about everything that had happened. All the late night running into each other for snacks, the tense smiles in the library… “I think he’s trying, but he’s figuring out everything on the way, because he’s never had to actually apologise for something before.”

Eret hummed, “Well, if he’s genuinely trying, I guess we can’t ask for much more. What about Phil, though? I can’t excuse his actions just because he cried. We’ve all cried over things we’ve done before, he’s not special.”

“I think he will try,” Ranboo spoke honestly. “He’s lived for so long he’s become desensitised to emotion, but I think that now he’s coming back down to earth, he’ll try to make up for everything.”

Niki sighed. “I guess I can give him another chance if he’s going to actually try to be better, now. We’re not perfect either, but he needs to put in some effort to make up for everything, like we have.”

“He will,” Ranboo promised. “I’ll make sure he will.”

“We trust you,” Puffy smiled, before looking over to where the other two were playing. “Oh, it looks like they’re done. I’ll bet they’re tired- I’ll go make some lemonade.”

Puffy left as Tommy and Fundy came running up, and their joy was contagious.

“You’re done?” Eret asked.

Tommy nodded. “We lost the ball somewhere in the forest, and we couldn’t find it. But we’re also tired. What can we do now?”

“Watch a movie?” Ranboo and Niki suggested at the same time, causing everyone else to laugh.

They ended up watching a movie while sipping Puffy’s lemonade, but Fundy hadn’t even finished his before he was fidgeting again.

He snuffled. “Can I make a burrow? Like a fort, or something?”

Eret smiled softly. “Sure, bud. Let me go grab some blankets, I’ll be right back.”

They came back with a giant pile of cloth, so they paused the movie and let Fundy go wild. It didn’t take long, since he seemed to know exactly what he wanted, so before long everyone was in a fort with Fundy curled up in the middle. It was really just a floor of blankets, with walls built up, but he seemed content.

Ranboo was towards the back, with Tommy sprawled across his lap and wings covering whoever he could. Niki leaned on Ranboo’s shoulder and Puffy was pressed into her side with her feet over Eret’s legs. Fundy somehow was in the middle of it all, making happy noises and radiating warmth.

It didn’t take long for the entire group to fall asleep.

The next morning, Ranboo was the first one up. He hadn’t gotten any nightmares, which was always a plus.

“Ranboo?” Tommy’s voice was groggy.

“Yup. How you doing?”

“I am so poggers.” Tommy yawned before stretching, his wing nudging Fundy and waking up the fox.

Fundy groaned. “I hate waking up after a thin day. I’m all curled up and shit. It’s the worst, my muscles hurt.”

Ranboo laughed, and by a few minutes later, everyone was up. Niki and Puffy had somewhere to be, so he and Tommy left, too. They promised Eret and Fundy that they’d be back, though.

The walk back to their home was uneventful, which was good, because when they got home, it was chaos.

“Why didn’t you sleep?” Purpled was demanding. “I was up all night and you have the audacity to just go ‘sorry?’ You didn’t sleep yesterday and Tubbo didn’t the night before and I am fucking tired.”

Sam tried to console the boy. “I’m sorry, Purpled. I forget that you can’t fall asleep if one of us is awake. I’ll sleep tonight, okay? I promise.”

“I still have to get through all of today!” Purpled snarled, eyes glowing a little brighter and suddenly pale skin highlighting the bags underneath his eyes that seemed more prominent, now. “I’ve got a fucking headache and my wings are all sensitive and none of you seem to care, because you just stay up all night as if it doesn’t affect anyone else. News flash, pal, the world doesn’t revolve around you!” He stormed off, wings folded tightly around his body.

Sam just stood there.

“Well, hello,” Tommy said, breaking the silence. “Wonderful welcome.”

“He’s been pissy all day,” Tubbo shrugged. “I mean, he hasn’t slept in at least three days, so I’d be, too.”

Ranboo frowned, then remembered Fundy. “Is he having a thin day? It seems to be running in the family right now, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Sam considered it for a second. “That- that is actually a very good hypothesis, Ranboo. I’m going to go call Punz. Behave, boys.”

Once Sam had left the room, Tubbo mumbled, “Anyone in the mood for arson?”

“Nah,” Ranboo shrugged. “I’m gonna go talk with Purpled, but you guys can do whatever.”

Tommy went over to the couch and flopped on top of Tubbo. “Okay. Bye, Ranboo.”

Purpled was in the bedroom, all the lights shut off, curled up in the corner.

“What are you?” Ranboo mused, “A vampire?”

Purpled just scowled. “I might as well be. Leave, or I’ll suck your blood.”

Ranboo shrugged and went over to the bed. “Nah, I don’t think I will. You’re going through your first thin day, you shouldn’t be alone.”

“My first thin day? Why’s that such a big deal?”

“Because it’s your hybrid side growing stronger,” Ranboo said, “It’s probably one of the worst thin days to have, to be honest, since you aren’t used to it and still need to adjust to how it feels.”

Purpled thought about how his day had gone. He’d been up all night, and the previous night, and the one before that, so he couldn’t remember when today had started, but he figured it was probably before the time he’d gone to the bathroom and noticed how pale he was, and how awful his under-eye bags looked.

Yeah, sometime around there, because he’d noticed his wings feeling sensitive a little after that- which was why he’d abandoned blankets, since the fabric had felt all wrong. That had been the wrong choice, since he’d started shaking from the cold.

The day had only gone downhill, too, since he’d stepped one foot outside and immediately gotten a headache from the sunlight.

“Yeah,” Purpled conceded. “This might be a thin day, but it still sucks.”

“No doubt,” Ranboo agreed, moving to sit near Purpled instead of on the bed. “Is the floor comfortable?”

“No, but the walls feel nice on my wings. I dunno why.”

They sat in silence, because they didn’t need to talk. The silence spoke louder than any words that either could have said out loud.

A while later, the door creaked open.

Punz peeked through. “Purpled? You alright? I heard you were having a thin day. They stink.”

“I’m okay.” Purpled said, his voice quieter than he would’ve liked. “I feel bad for snapping at Sam, though.”

“Aw, that’s not your fault, kid.” Punz frowned, moving into the room. “He doesn’t hold it against you.”

“I still feel bad, though. If it didn’t hurt to be in anything but darkness, I’d apologize.”

Ranboo slipped out of the room to let Punz help his brother adapt to the new concept of having thin days, and was surprised to see Phil and Tommy talking.

“I’m sorry,” Phil was saying, and he seemed to be genuine. “I haven’t been the most human recently, and I’m sorry that you had to go through everything just so that I could realize that everything I did was fucked up,” He laughed wetly, tears welling in his eyes. “I wish I could go back and do all of it differently, because in a way I lost all of my sons. I don’t hold it against you, choosing Sam I mean, because in the end, I was a fucking awful father. I’m glad you found someone who could care for you properly, I really am.”

Tommy smiled weakly. “I wish I could say it’s okay. I really want to, Phil, but the things you put me through, Ranboo through, everyone else through… I can’t just put it in the past, but as long as you’re willing to change, I’ll let you have some time, okay?”

“Thank you,” Phil said earnestly. “Tell me to go at any point, and I will. I cross any boundaries, tell me. If Techno does anything you don’t like, tell me. I can’t change what I did and I don’t expect you to forget it, but you even giving me a chance to change is more than I deserve. Thank you, Tommy. You will always mean something to me, even if you don’t consider yourself my son, and from now on, I’ll try harder to stay human, okay?”

“Okay.” Tommy said, voice thick with tears. “As long as you know you fucked up and want to make up for it, I can stand you around, old man.”

Phil laughed, but his laughter died out when Ranboo entered the room. “Oh! Just who I needed to talk to! I, uh, I apologised to Tommy, but I need to talk with you, too.”

Tommy stayed, even as Ranboo sat down and motioned for Phil to continue.

“As I was saying, during the past few years, I slid down a slope that led to me not really being connected with the more human side of things, and recently I’ve realized it. I’ve managed to acknowledge that everything I did was more than fucked, and I’ve hurt an insane amount of people, not to mention I’ve ruined relationships I may never get back. I deserve all of it, of course, but I need to apologize and get it off of my chest, even if you tell me to go to hell and hate me until the day you die.”

Ranboo nodded, but stayed quiet. He didn’t trust his voice.

Phil went on, “I hurt you and nearly made you- well, through my actions, I almost made you kill yourself, is the reality of it, and I know that just saying sorry will never be enough, because a few measly words is in no way enough to make up for the pain and trauma I put you through, not to mention everything with- with L’manburg. But, I think that apologizing is a good place to start, and I can work from there. So, Ranboo Underscore,” Phil took a breath and willed the tears to not fall, “I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done and everything I’ve put you through. I should have understood much sooner what I did, and the fact that I didn’t will haunt me forever. I completely get if you want me to leave and never return, and won’t hold it against you in the slightest, but if you feel that you can let me make up for what I’ve done while still maintaining good mental health, I would like the chance to.”

Ranboo hesitated, and Phil spoke again.

“Please don’t feel pressured to. You can absolutely tell me to fuck off, I deserve worse. Do whatever you feel is best for you, and I will comply.”

Ranboo felt comforted by that, but… “I can change my mind at any point?”

“Of course,” Phil agreed.

“Then yeah,” Ranboo started. “I can let you try to make up for what you did. This is a good start, but you have a long way to go.”

“Don’t I know it,” Phil nodded. “Thank you, Ranboo, I really mean it.”

“I know you do,” Ranboo said, and he really did. Something told him that Phil really was genuine, and he was inclined to believe it. And, a feeling settled through him, content to stay until the end of time- and it was happiness. He was happy, truly happy, and he wanted it to stay like that.

Phil left Sam’s house, and from a distance, Death watched. She was proud of Phil for apologising and meaning it, and she didn’t doubt that he’d actually try to change. There’d be bigger consequences if he didn’t, she decided, but she knew it’d never come to that.

The whole server had faced reality and came out victorious, so they’d all be family until the day that she came for the last of them.

_______

there will be more one-shots in this universe. this isnt the true ending :)

#ranboo #awesamdude #tommyinnit #tubbo #eret #captain puffy #niki nihachu #fundy #purpled #philza #technoblade #dream #dreamsmp #fluff #the end #im gonna cry

[pigeonxp]

YGCMA songs and how they relate to c!Wilbur based off of yesterday’s lore (in my biased opinion)

This is so dumb and i literally don’t care. I can’t think about anything else other than doing this synopsis even tho like 28480329204 other people are going to do it. idc. 

(I listened to the songs earlier, and i’m also listening to them as i write the opinions. these are basically just my thoughts while listening tbh. im also not doing the full song, just some things i feel relate within each song)

- Jubilee Line

the lines at the beginning of the song, “hate to see you leaving / a fate worse than dying” could relate to how wilbur feels after tommy gets pulled back into the overworld. or, he could be referencing L’Manburg and how he hates to see his country leaving him (ouch). 

then we have the lines “your city gave me asthma / so thats why im fucking leaving / and your water gave me cancer / and the pavements hurt my feelings”. This could be in relation to L’Manburg as a whole. He put everything he had into L’Manburg and it only ended up hurting him in the end. yikes. 

now we have “shout at the wall / ‘cause the walls dont fucking love you” repeated. This could be in reference to when he said he was fucking kicking and screaming to get out of the train station. hes screaming and he doesnt care because it doesnt matter to him. it doesnt love him just like how the people of L’Manburg didnt love him. wilbur get therapy challenge.

so based on the lore from yesterday, we know that c!wilbur’s limbo was a train station (props to fanartists. i love you.), presumably the YCGMA album cover type deal. when he sings “Theres a reason / that London puts barriers on the tube line / theres a reason / that London puts barriers on the rails” repeated. if the train station looks like how they do on the album cover, there could be barriers where he is. maybe hes trying his best to just kill himself over again by jumping onto the tracks. just in an attempt to escape. jfc 

“theres a reason they fail”. he was still in the train station, wasnt he?

- Saline Solution

for this one, i feel like hes pretty far into the void and regretting his decision to have phil kill him. hes tired of being in a fucking train station for years on end. 

“i think this time im dying / im not melodramatic / im just pragmatic beyond any / reasoning for thinking ive got / fuckin rabies or something.” hes so fucking sick of being in this goddamn train station and he thinks hes dying. hes so pent up and sick of being there, maybe hes just in so much pain that he feels like hes dying. if hes been there for a while, hes probably bound to go crazy at some point, hence the “pragmatic beyond any reasoning.”

“I think ive lost my mind / blurring the fact and the fictions” this feels like he really does believe hes going crazy and is mixing up the things he really knows and the things his mind is creating for him. maybe this is when tommy first arrived and he cant tell if he real or not (thats a stretch but i figured id share it anyway.)

“I think ive made my choice / im a deceased playing victim / slip the face, slip the victory” he quite literally says that hes a deceased playing victim. hes literally saying hes dead HAHHAHAH anyway. maybe hes blaming himself again, because us c!wilbur apologists all know that hes very good at doing that.

“Sit secluded in hatred /.../” hes sitting in a fucking train station for god knows how long beating himself up over and over again and just hating himself. hes all alone. with himself. someone he fucking loathes.

this is honestly all i have for Saline Solution, but i will definitely add more later if i get different theories. 

- Since I Saw Vienna

This is my favorite song on the album and my comfort song so that could factor into this bit ahaha

im going to skip through this one a little bit and go to the line “The roads are my home, horizons my target / if i keep on moving, never lose sight of it / treating my memory of you like a fire, let it / burn out, don’t fight it, try to move on” this sounds like hes reminiscing on his home in L’Manburg and his presidency was something he relied on and he would fight to get it back, but now that hes dead and said that it should remain that way that he should just let it go. trying to move on from his symphony, forever unfinished. 

 “its been sixty weeks since i saw vienna / a bandage and a wide smile slapped across my face / ill pick up my hiking boots when i am ready / and ill put down my roots when im dead.” THESE LINES FUCK ME UP IN GENERAL BUT HOW THEY RELATE TO C!WILBUR RN IS JUST SUIBHYSBUSHDXNSKJDNHBD YK???? in the context that vienna is L’Manburg and he died, its saying that its been a long ass time since hes seen it and hes faking being okay about his death. he misses it but doesnt want to admit it. the picking up the hiking boots when hes ready is him moving on from his L’Manburg, and putting his roots down when hes dead is finally being okay with not living there/being an important part of it. he believed his death was the best for the people in L’Manburg and L’Manburg itself. it seems like hes still trying to convince himself. 

“Ill be gone then, for when you must be alone.” hes gone. hes dead. hes in the train station. he left the L’Manburgians alone and hes alone in his limbo. man. 

- Losing Face

this song is angry. hes so fucking angry. my thoughts are that this is about the following presidents after him. he feels like the L’Manburgians were happier without him and im pretty sure he believed that even when Schlatt was president. this is so evident in the lyric “Is he better than me?” Hes literally asking if the other presidents were better than he was. he doesnt believe he did everything he could to be the best president, even though we all know that he gave everything that he was into that country and then some. he broke himself for the L’Manburg but he doesnt believe hes enough. sheesh.

“Ive seen him / ive been him / ive felt the same way” even though he cant see the new presidents being president, he knows what its like. he knows that they might break under the pressure. hes been there. he knows how if feels. yikes. 

“Ive lost all meaning / ive lost my sense of hope” this feels like when he was nearing the end of L’Manburg when he blew it up, and that he feels like trying to win it back is pointless. he has no hope for it anymore, so why not give up? his mental state is already shit yk so i cant really blame him for feeling that way. 

“i dont care / i want you here / as long as youre happy, i dont care” this line. this fucking line. hes lost hope in being president, but he doesnt care. he just wants the L’Manburgians to be happy. that was his whole thought process while he was president. he didnt matter to himself, he just wanted them to be happy. he sacrificed his mental state for them. cries in wilbur apologist.

- Your Sister Was Right

this is my second favorite song on the album i think HAHAHAH

anyway

“I use everyone i ever meet / i cant find the perfect match / abuse those i love / while i ostracize the ones who love me / back.” wowie wow wow fucking ouchie. He feels like he uses his friends. this whole thing is a projection of his shit ass mental state rn fucking hell. he feels like hes abusive. thats what everyones been telling him. they tell him he was awful and a shit president and all that jazz even though hes been killing himself trying to be the best for them but its still not enough (pigeon projecting? more likely than you think)

“every time that i miss you / i feel the way you hurt / and i dont deserve you / you deserve the world / though it feels like we were built / from the same dirt.” man. hes dead lol. he misses the L’Manburgians. not only were they his supporters, but they were all his friends too. every time he misses his friends he feels their pain of when he first blew up L’Manburg. he feels like because he caused them all pain that they dont like him and that they never liked him and that he is undeserving of their friendship. he still wants to be friends with them. he still loves them. he still wants the best for them. he thinks theyre so much better than him even though they all created L’Manburg together. in reality they are all the same, but their actions impact each other and he feels that his actions make him worse than them or less than. fuckisonmdfnpbhife

“and i hate to say it / but your sister was right / dont trust english boys / with far too much free time” sister is dream mayhaps. fuckngeionsfjg that hurt sorry uhhh anyway yeah sister is dream?? he did say that wilbur would be a shit president and he believes that hes a shit president so he thinks they were all right about him being a shit president  fbhjebinfnejg. maybe sister is just everyone who didnt believe in wilbur. man....

“a fucking waste of time” do i even need to explain this one? he fr doesnt belive hes worth it anymore and that hes literally a waste of time. hjkfbhnfve

- La Jolla

this one feels pretty far into train station limbo to me as well. namely from “and im lonely / there i said it” this could either be him being lonely as president and feeling like he doesnt have anyone to talk to really because hes too busy trying to hold himself together for everyone. either that or hes lonely in the station and didnt want to admit it because this is what he wanted. he wanted to die. he wanted to be dead because he believed thats what everyone else wanted and he just wanted the best for them. 

“i could go away / i could pack my things and be gone before you wake” he could leave if they asked him to. he would do anything for them. 

“you know ive tried hard to love me too / it always seems to fall in, through” this line already physically pained me but now it hurts even more having to relate it to a character i love. we already know that his mental state was declining as his presidency continued, but this would confirm that hes just trying to love himself even though he can never seem to get it right. 

“my own personal sunset” this is just the ‘this is my sunrise’ line but different. my man misses the sun. fuck. 

- I’m Sorry Boris

this song is almost definitely from a long ass time in the limbo. 

“and im sorry / but, boris / im leaving / im not good for anyone here” boris represents L’Manburgians!! hes talking about how hes leaving the world by planning on killing himself. fuck. 

“we reached the end of a decade” mans been dead for a decade. sheesh. 

he then goes on to say that he cant believe hes leaving, he doesnt think he wants to leave them, but he thinks its whats best for them.

he talks about how they do all of these bullshit things before helping you and i know its in reference to london but for the sake of my sanity its about the presidency role and how it will fuck you up before bothering to help you not want to kill yourself.  

should i do a separate post about how i visualized it/about how i thought about the song in paragraph form like a lowkey explanation? idk how to explain it but in this one i wanted to just cover some of the lyrics of the songs and my thoughts on them. i think c!wilbur wrote these in the limbo after he died. i know this is also shit and Not Good, but i really just needed to get my thoughts out before it killed me. i also didnt reread this. its probably repetitive and shit yk. i do Not Care. id also love to hear thoughts on this if yall want to. if you made it this far i love you please hydrate and eat today and youre so sexy ahaha 

“and even though im finished / im not quite done with it” even though hes finishing his symphony by blowing it up, hes now realizing he wished he hadnt blown it up and that he hadnt killed himself. man. 

-

#tw death #tw suicide #wilbur soot #ycgma #dream smp #tommyinnit #dream #c!wilbur #fuck i love this album

[hollenka99]

May Death Do Us Part

Summary: Wilbur dies and in the void, a voice refuses to accept his end. Prologue of Unequal Halves of the Same Whole

Warnings: Death, blood, stabbing, brief description of a dead body

It's only the two of them in this small room. It feels even tinier now that he's blocked the entrance to prevent anyone else coming other than Phil. The silly thing is this wall before him, the one with the button he's determined to press yet even now still has slight doubts about actually going through with doing so, it's not remarkably thick. It's not like there's multiple layers of stone between himself, Phil and the rest of the world. He's technically a stone block's width away from the whistling explosives. The others are fighting, he comments to the air. L'Manburg will have to concern itself with a force more destructive than some mere fireworks in a matter of minutes. If he does indeed detonate the nation he helped found. Phil seems determined to prevent that. But, then again, Phil doesn't know that Wilbur has cursed himself with a Chekov's gun, one that by its nature can't be left on display forever. When he mentions not even knowing if the button is rigged, the blond man laughs. Did he really want to take that risk? Well... As for there potentially being a lot of TNT connected to the device, yes that's the point. Regardless, it's clear Phil is in denial that Wilbur is absolutely ready to do this. His loss. The moment is ripe. It's best if he takes advantage of it. "Phil..." Now or never. "There was a saying, Phil, by a traitor once part of L'Manburg. A traitor I don't know if you've heard of. Eret?" "Yeah." Phil's expression is wary and rightly so. He'd be concerned if it wasn't, honestly. "He had a saying, Phil." These six words have stuck with him for months. Since... the beginning of August, it must have been. Ever since, he's never truly known whether to take people's words at face value. He'd made the mistake of trusting Eret and cost his loved ones a life. Who could tell if another one of his 'friends' was plotting his demise behind his back. Best to eradicate the plague that is L'Manburg with everything that made it so before they get a chance to reveal their true loyalties. Perhaps he's doing them a favour, betraying the lost cause in their stead. Either way, it is time for the words that will end up haunting the man who raised him since he was six. He almost wants to be sorry for bestowing the burden of them onto a new victim. However, he's so caught up in the moment, so thrilled to be at the point his goal is finally coming to completion after all these weeks, that he directs his energy to not truly smiling as he utters the infamous phrase. It does nothing to hide the pride in his voice that the time for his grand finale has finally come. "It was never meant to be." There is a satisfying click as the button accepts the pressure exerted on it. In that second before the world reacts to what he has done, he regrets letting Phil see this. He's close enough to the wall that he predicts the force of the explosion will find its way to him. Debris too if he's not already dead. It won't be pleasant to witness. But well... Phil made the decision to confront him directly and neither of them can change this situation now. He goes out saluting with eyes shut tight. Or at least, he would have if he wasn't knocked to the ground by a force not in allegiance with the TNT. Phil is pushing himself off from where he'd been laying on top of him when he opens his eyes. The wings are ruined. Wilbur wouldn't be surprised if he learned the older man has permanently grounded himself with that sacrificial act. One way or another, they are both alive. The damage has been done to the land before them as well as themselves. Ash rains down upon Wilbur as he rises to his feet to observe the consequences of his actions. Phil's eyes are full of horror and agony as he does the same from where he remains sitting. "My L'Manburg, Phil!" He throws his arms out. "My unfinished symphony, forever unfinished! If I can't have this, Phil, no-one can." "Oh my god..." The older of the two mutters in disbelief. "Kill me, Phil, kill me." He unsheathes the sword that had been situated by his side, tossing it towards the man he's appointed his executioner. "Phil, stab me with the sword. Murder me now. Kill me. Killza. Killza! Do it. Kill me, Phil, murder me. Look, they all want you to. Do it, Phil, kill me." "Y- You're my son!" He cries back, getting to his feet. And oh, that's caused him to be taken aback for a second. His... son? Well, he supposes neither he nor Phil were immune to the feelings that can naturally arise in arrangements such as theirs. Phil had been friends with his mother before her death. As such, he had felt obliged to care for her young son whom he's supposedly viewed in a fond light. The stories went that Wilbur had liked him back in turn. Of course, any and all attachment had waned on Wilbur's part as he aged into a teenager left to raise another parentless boy while Phil travelled with a piglin the same age as his 'son'. Son? Please. Phil had a funny way of showing it in that case. His standards for a father had been low but 'forcing a kid to become independent years before their time then randomly appearing out of the blue to talk them down from mass destruction and saving said child's life' still didn't reach the mark. If Phil wants to prove he's on his side, there remains one thing he can do for him. "Phil, kill me." He requests for the thousandth time. "No matter what you do, no matter what you pull, I can't-" "Look. Look! How much work went into this and it's gone. Do it." He challenges once more. "Do it." At this, Phil relents. A slash is made with another swiftly following it. Blood begins to flow and he's glad he doesn't give a shit about this outfit. Not that it even matters since he won't see dusk tonight. He drops, head smacking against the floor. And holy shit, is that what fire aspect feels like? He suddenly gains a profound understanding of why animals slain with these types of swords provide meat edible upon the moment of slaughter. He'd understood it in theory obviously but fuck, he wants to apologize to any creature whose throat he's aimed that sword at. He wonders whether he'd perceive someone pouring lava into the wound as a punishment or a distraction. He breathes through it. He won't cry, not in his final minutes and certainly not in front of Phil. Phil himself doesn't seem to have the same resolve to remain composed. The sword has left his grasp, having clattered to the floor. He is knelt, folding in on himself slightly with palms pressing into his eyes, and lets out a pained groan. It sounds like a mix of grief and acknowledgement of the agony his destroyed wings must be putting him in. Phil's heads lifts and their eyes meet. With some newfound determination, he gets up and lifts Wilbur's torso so he's leaning against him in a semblance of a sitting position. He subsequently moves the young man he supposedly considers a son to have his back against the wall. "Fuck, you couldn't just let- you couldn't just win? You had to just throw your toys out the pram." Hands are on his shoulders to steady him. Phil's frustration goes ignored. "Phil, you know when Dream- well, I guess you don't know but Dream said earlier that there was no traitor. He said earlier- he said 'hey, do you know what? There's no traitor', he said to me. And you know what?" Wilbur weakly chuckles. "He fucking lied. He lied. Phil, it's Technoblade. Phil, it's Technoblade." "Oh my god. The most powerful person on the server is the traitor?" "Phil-" He catches the attention of the man who is desperately trying to locate where the piglin may be outside. Phil's gaze snaps right back to him. Wilbur continues his warning with a bloodied grin. "And he has 8 withers ready to go." "Oh my god, I need to get out of here." True to his word, Phil glances back at the sealed entrance then the massive hole that used to be a wall. Calculation made, he descends down the rubble to the battle brewing below. "Go as fast as you can, Phil. Go see them, go on. Bye-bye. Bye-bye, Phil." With no-one to hear him anymore, he sighs and mutters to himself. "We won. It's over." He's not entirely sure what Dream was on about earlier in regards to there apparently being no traitors. Of course there were traitors. It was Wilbur and Technoblade, the man who had been planning to detonate an abundance of TNT for weeks and the man who had been gathering wither heads for anarchistic purposes. Honestly, who else would it be? Speaking of the TNT, as he overlooks the destruction, he doubts all of it has gone off... perhaps only half of it. It doesn't matter. The deed is done. Though he's miraculously managed to maintain conversation, the effects of the sword are increasingly taking hold. Bleeding out isn't the most pleasant thing to endure even without the enchantment wreaking havoc on his nervous system. Although, he's certainly no stranger to this kind of death by now. Punz had stabbed him and left him for dead in the Final Control Room. The same man's arrow found his chest while Wilbur and Tommy were escaping L'Manburg upon being exiled. Had the arrow not struck vital organs and stolen his second life quickly, it likely would have caused him a similar fate as his first and now current deaths without appropriate medical attention. Still, being the man of the arts and politics he once wanted to liken himself to, he could appreciate a good leitmotif. He can spot a wither or two in the sky. He supposes if he checked the communicator on his wrist, he'd see several user status updates regarding this development. Good, let Techno have his time to shine. It's an interesting last view, the rubble he's created, but he can't help feel a sense of pride. This has been his goal for so long and despite the delay of a month, it's finally over. "Tubbo, you are president of a crater." He says with delight. "Enjoy." Shortly thereafter, death at last envelops him. Phil does not come back to the room where the body of the boy he raised lays. Perhaps it is due to him becoming preoccupied by the withers and subsequent aftermath, maybe he cannot force himself to witness the end result of him fulfilling his son's final request. Regardless of the reason, the fact of the matter is that what physically remains of Wilbur Soot will be there tomorrow when Tubbo traverses the rubble along with Fundy and Quackity in an effort to begin rebuilding the nation following the events of the previous day. The president of L'Manburg will state that his predecessor should be left there to rot, promptly constructing a new wall to officially seal him in his tomb. The path his actions have led him down had to end eventually. If he thought about it too much, it almost seemed inevitable that by travelling down it, he would arrive at this room, to where he was to breathe his last, to his consequential final resting place. But that is to come and it is only his physical destiny. Every other aspect of him finds itself in darkness. There is nothing. And in the nothingness, there is only him. It is the outskirts of a black hole's event horizon, ready to scatter his atoms when time itself comes to an end. It is a sensory deprivation room in the heart of a city bustling with noisy activity, overloaded with an infinite variety of colours and aromas, though you would forever be none the wiser. It is the expanse of space with any and all celestial bodies too far to detect with your exposed being. The void accepts him as its latest inhabitant. In the abyss that follows his demise, silence is shattered. "What are you doing?" "This isn't right. I want to go back." "This is what we wanted. It's over now. We don't have to carry on." "There must be another way." "But we're dead. There is no reversing that. There is no 'other way' either." "What if we started over though? What if we came back somehow without the paranoia and mistrust. Someone must have cared about us, right?" "You're talking about changing who we were." "I'm talking about reverting back to a happier version of ourselves. We've done the whole 'bad guy' thing. Why don't we be the good guy again? We won't have to worry about being betrayed if everyone likes us." "...I don't think I appreciate your line of thinking." "I think my reasoning is sound." "This is crazy! We can't just show up like nothing happened. We blew up the country. We said it ourselves, if Phil didn't do it, somebody else probably would have put their sword through us." "We'll never know if we don't try." "Stop it!" "No. I'm doing this for our own good." "But I don't believe it will be beneficial. If you would just listen to me-" "If you're so content with how horribly things ended then here you go. You keep all these memories. Wallow in them. I definitely won't be needing them." "Wait-" "Meanwhile, I'm going to give us the second chance we deserve. And I'm going to do so back down there with a clean slate." "Don't do this. Please." "I'd rather take amnesia over missing this chance." Yellow burns in their line of sight, highlighted by the lack of colour. An additional arm forms. Another joins it as do two extra legs. Rapidly, one entity separates into a near identical pair. One pulls away as their twin uses both hands to pull an arm back towards them. They struggle like this momentarily before the rejecter shoves his counterpart away, causing himself to fall further and further from any continued attempts to stop him. The first is left in a wealth of misery, hatred and anxiety upon the split commencing. Anything they ever fondly cherished, even if they hadn't acknowledged it recently, is ripped from them. Memories of childhood, of playing music, of accomplishments worthy of pride are left negated in the aftermath. If the Grinch's heart grew three sizes upon accepting love once more, then this half's heart was currently shrivelling to a third of its typical capacity. Resentment fills them as their twin tumbles to the world below. The second is overcome by joy, excitement and hope as the transfer is made. Gone are the pain, the regret and the sorrow. They are free to go about their existence without a care in the world. Like a foreign object burning upon contact with the atmosphere as it tumbles, everything unnecessary disintegrates. In the fire, they are cleansed. They are able to float and avoid their feet needing to touch the ground with the absence of all that undesirable weight. The closer their new attempt at life approaches, the more they feeling as if they are flying towards it. Who cares about the other half they are leaving behind? He can take care of himself. Besides, he's been in the reins for too long. A ghost wearing a yellow jumper appears in the room where his originator succumbed to exsanguination hours beforehand. A body wearing a brown trenchcoat with red staining his shirt and fingerless gloves overlooks the surrounding ruins. Or, at least, he would be were his eyes not closed. However, it goes without saying it is disturbing to see your own corpse right in front of you, to look at your own face and know there is no life to be found upon it. So he escapes in the same direction a blond man had done earlier. Night has fallen but he knows that come morning, he will have plenty of opportunities to reunite with friends under his new name of... Ghostbur. Yeah, he wants to be called Ghostbur. Wilbur was someone else entirely so why not adopt a second identity to mark his second chance at life. It is the first memory that is solely his own and he promptly forgets it.

#dream smp #wilbur soot #philza #my writing #twobur au #unequal halves of the same whole #tw death #tw blood #first part of unequal halves let's goooo #the majority of this is honestly just Wilbur's death scene

[blackypanther9]

Part 19 - Wrong Move...

Your POV....

I went outside and back into the room, where Loki was in the glass. As I was there....he wasn't in the cell anymore. I panicked.

"Loki ?", I asked into the room....nothing.

"Loki...this isn't funny.", I told the room.

Suddenly the door opens and I turned around. I saw Fury enter, he looked at me.

"Loki is in my office. He is waiting for you and wants to know where the scepter is.", he told me.

I nodded and ran out of the room to the office. As I got in I saw Loki sitting on a chair, waiting.

"Hey...Lucie. Do you know where the scepter is ?", he said.

"It's in the lab... The boys are investigating it."

"Can I look at it ?"

"Why ? It's the reason you killed people. It controlled you."

"I just want to see it."

I got closer and stared into his eyes...still green. Nah ! Fine.

"Alright...fine...", I gave in.

He smiled at me and got up. I went with him into the lab and he saw the scepter immediately. He went closer and....no....no !

"DON'T TOUCH IT !!!"

.....too late....he drew his finger over it and he shivered.

'No....What have I done ?'

He took it in his hand, turned around and had blue eyes again. I stared at him.

"I wanted to see if it was the scepter...Guess it was.", he said, smiling.

I got in fighting position. He attacked me and wanted to hit my head with the scepter. I dodged. I ran out of the room and into the room, where his cell was. I opened the doors and made an illusion on it. It was looking like it is still closed. He came inside. He still smiled, then grimaced.

"Is the power not working ? Oh you poor mortal.", he said sarcastically.

He went to me and was going to touch me with the scepter. I took a hold of it, lifted it with Loki up and threw him in his cell. I had the scepter in my hand and Loki was in the cell again. I made a move with my hand and the door closed. He tried to run out, but he was too slow and ran against the glas.

"Why did you idiot do that ?! Look at you !! Odin will kill you for that ! DON'T YOU KNOW THAT ?!", I screamed at him.

"I do. And I honestly don't care.", he said smiling at me.

I shook my head, turned on my heel and went to the door outside. He chuckled, before I was on the door. I stopped in my tracks and turned around, to face him.

"What are you laughing at ?", I asked.

"Look at you and your great friends. You won't be having this kind of freedom forever.", he said amused.

'So much for he is finally free and trusting him and all...'

I rolled my eyes, turned around and left. I heard Thor calling me and running to me. I stopped, turned around and looked at him annoyed.

"What, Thor ?"

"Why is Loki in his cell again and you have the scepter ?", he asked.

"Loki touched the scepter, to know if the scepter was the reason of his sudden change. And it is. He is again under the control of it. And no, I won't ask Banner again, to knock the shit out of him. I am sick of it."

Thor's eyes widen in shock. I turned around and went into my room, locking the door behind me. I fell into my bed and hugged Loki's blanket....again. I hit the wall, I was facing and I broke my hand. ....Right....I put my wristbands on, in case I do something like that...

"Lady Lucie ? Please open the door...", I heard Thor knocking.

I hid my face in Loki's blanket and screamed.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Thor !"

"Why ? You are sad. I want to change it."

"Then go away !"

There was silence. After a moment of silence I heard footsteps, getting further away. A few minutes later I fell asleep, still tightly hugging Loki's beloved blanket.

In my dream....

I was standing in Loki's room and looked outside the window. I looked down at a book. I didn't saw any writing on the cover. I sat down on Loki's bed and opened the book. The first pages, I saw nothing. Then I turned a page again and gasped in shock. There was a drawing. Not just any drawing... It was Loki killing Odin, Thor and Frigga. I let the book fall to the ground and wanted to stand up. But I couldn't. Out of nowhere, came out of the book blood. I lifted my legs and laid on Loki's bed. Suddenly the door opened. I turned my head, slowly, afraid of seeing Loki in blood or any dead person in the doorway. But instead I saw Loki, clean and well. He came to me in a rush as he saw my face in shock.

"Dest, what's wrong ?", he asked worried.

"The book....please tell me it was a prank of yours.", I said pointing to the book on the floor.

He looked at it and then at me. He picked it up and opened it.

"I don't know what you are talking about...The book is fully normal. I swore that I won't play mean tricks on you...and I stand to this promise. What did you see, dear ?", he asked worried.

"I saw a scary painting of you killing Thor, Frigga and Odin. I dropped it and suddenly, out of nowhere, came out blood of it. Please tell me you pranked me !"

He stared at you as you stared at him.

"Darling...don't you know anymore ?", he asked.

"W-what do you mean ?!"

"You drew this picture and burned it after that. It was 5 years ago. And......I am....dead.", he answered.

I stared at him.

"But you ARE here !!", I screamed.

He turned away from me, his back facing me and as he turned back to me, I saw his eyes were white like snow, no green orbs and no black pupils... I screamed and jumped from the bed.

"WHAT HAPPENED ?! WHO DID THIS TO YOU ?!", I screamed in panic.

"Don't you remember ? He did this to me."

He pulled his collar down and I saw his neck blue and purple as if he got strangled to death. Suddenly his head fell to his right, with a sick cracking noise. I screamed in shock again. His neck was definitely broken.

"LOKI ! YOUR NECK !!!"

"I know. He killed me, 5 years ago..."

"W-WHAT ?!"

He stood up, walked to me, took my hand and kissed it. He used his right hand to move his head to its actual position and pulled his collar up again. He pulled me into a hug and kissed my cheek. Then he let go.

"When will that happen ?", I asked.

"You have 4 - 6 years left.", Loki answered.

I was frozen in shock.

"You need to wake up. You don't belong here. Wake up... I will see you."

I shook my head. He sighed.

"I am sorry.", he said.

Before I could ask him he was a dark creature and jumpscared me.

End of dream....

I startled awake and sat up. As I woke up it was 2PM. I fell asleep at 2 AM today. I sighed in relief, but couldn't forget the nightmare... I stood up, grabbed a poetry book, not caring how I looked like right now and went into the room with Loki in his cell. He looked at me and I teleported the book into his cell. I was relieved that he wasn't dead. He took the book and smiled at me, after he read the title.

"Thank you, Lucie.", he said.

"No problem........Could you stand right in front of me as close as the glass allows you ?"

He looked at me confused.

"And why should I do that ?", he asked.

"Please ? I just wanna check something."

He hesitated but did as I asked him. I got as close as I could and looked at his throat. Nothing. Good. I stepped back.

"Okay thanks. I need to go now, I am busy... Goodnight Frosty."

He then stepped back too. Looking at me still confused.

"Goodnight...", he replied.

I walked outside and back into my room. After 20 minutes the ship, or whatever it is, rattled and I felt like we were falling and my feeling didn't trick me. Because I fell from my bed onto the wall to my left. Hard. It almost knocked the air out of me. I stood up and ran outside. Luna was with Tony the whole time, I was worried for her and what happened. Tony ran as fast as he could with Luna in his arms, as soon as he spotted me.

"Take her !", he screamed.

"What happened ?!"

"We got attacked ! I have to go !", he answered and ran away.

"TONY !"

He stopped and turned around to look at me.

"BE CAREFUL AND GOOD LUCK !!", I shouted to him.

He smiled, nodded and then ran off again. Luna pulled out her claws and clung onto me. I ran into my room and stayed there for good 12 minutes. I then pulled out a collar for Luna, put it on her and pressed a button. She now will stand like that even if she is upside down. Yes a gravity collar for animals... I am clever. Then I ran out and heard a gunshot in Loki's cellroom. I opened the door, to see Agent Phil Coulson laying there with a weird weapon in his lap. His body and suit had his own blood everywhere.

I ran back out, I searched for an first aid kit. As I found one and returned, Director Fury was already there and Phil was dead. I stopped dead in my tracks. I let the aid kit fall and Fury looked me in the eyes. He was mad.

"He and on our side now...huh ?", he asked angry.

"Mister Fury...I can explain myself. I swear ! He-"

"NO. You lied to us. You said he was good now. Bruce said he can be trusted again. Why did you lie ? Huh ?! Answer me damn it !!"

I flinched everytime he yelled at me. It wasn't me who let him out. But it was my fault of being too late, of him touching the scepter again.

"Thanks to you, he escaped ! Thanks to you, Agents died ! Thanks to you, we almost all died !", he yelled at me.

I got angry and looked at him. Now it was my turn.

"YOU THINK I DID IT ON PURPOSE ?! LISTEN HERE ODIN NUMBER TWO, HE WANTED TO SEE WHERE THE FUCKING SCEPTER WAS AND I SHOWED HIM !! HE RAN HIS FINGER OVER IT AND IT PUT HIM UNDER CONTROL AGAIN !!! HE WANTED TO TEST THAT ! BEFORE I REALIZED WHAT HIS DAMN PLAN WAS IT WAS TOO LATE AND I LURED HIM INTO A TRAP AGAIN !! I LOCKED HIM UP AGAIN !! I WASN'T THE ONE WHO FREED HIM !! I WASN'T IT IN THE FIRST PLACE AND IN THE SECOND PLACE ALSO !! INSTEAD OF ALWAYS JUDGING ME, YOU SHOULD HEAR THE PEOPLE OUT FIRST INSTEAD OF JUST BLAMING THEM !! YOU GOD DAMN MORONS !!!"

He stared at me in shock and respect, but I was too angry to see it. I turned on my heel and ran out into my room, locked the door and packed my stuff. I am going to leave now ! I knew it was a big mistake in the first place. Why didn't I listen to my feeling ?!

Part 20

Masterlist with all Chapters of this Story click here !  

#Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #marvel #Thor #Loki x Reader