#tommy and tubbo thursday

[slothsandfangirling]

C!TOMMYINNIT IS FINALLY GETTING AN ENDING WILL IT RIP MY HEART OUT AND STOMP ON IT? PROBABLY!

#tommyinnit #dream smp #c!tommy deserves a soft ending #tubbo #also tweeted the fact he will be in Thursdays lore stream!

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

some seer au worldbuilding!

TW: Kidnapping, imprisonment, child abuse, infantilisation, referenced torture, manipulation, what’s essentially slavery in a fantasy context (both referenced serfdom and mages being treated as property of the crown), dehumanisation, mild xenophobia, victim blaming, mutilation, referenced murder, suicidal ideation, codependency, trauma dumping, self harm, threats, referenced starvation, Stockholm syndrome, and Lima syndrome.

——

One of the few things Tommy looked forward to in life was the two hours each Thursday he got to spend in lesson.

He'd never been able to learn much other than how to avoid getting caught pickpocketing and how to survive on scraps of bread before he'd been taken to the castle, and unlike most of his life in his gilded prison, he relished that change.

He'd always wanted to be smart, like Mama was, able to figure out numbers in her head like that and read books to him. When she got sick, Tommy wasn’t ever able to read them himself, and he'd had to sell the now-useless things for more drink so Father wouldn’t hit him.

Tubbo was smart, too. He'd come from the other side of the border, and he'd had to run away after his noble family was disgraced. The exact reasons changed every time he told the story, and Tommy was willing to bet it wasn't real, but either way Tubbo knew his stuff. Besides, he never told Tubbo about Father, so it all evened out.

Getting the chance to learn after so long was exhilarating, even if it meant he had to spend two hours with Dream talking at him and pretending they were friends or something. At least he wasn’t a half bad teacher, or at least Tommy thought. He didn’t have any point of comparison, so he supposed he wouldn’t be able to tell.

Tracing one of the squiggles one the parchment, Dream smiled at him like he was a fucking infant, leading to Tommy rolling his eyes and flipping him off, making him snort.

“C'mon, Tommy, take this seriously.”

“I am,” Tommy insisted, crossing his arms. “And that’s a… Y.”

“Close! It’s a T, actually! T for To-“

“I'm not six, I know what a T is,” Tommy said, frustrated. Just because he didn’t know how to read letters didn’t mean he didn’t know what they were. Mama taught him better than that. “Try T for… Tfuck off and die.”

“You know, I could have someone executed for treason for saying that.” Dream's tone remained light and playful, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach muddy green eyes. “Very few have the privilege to speak to the King so openly.”

“Oh yeah, because I’m so privileged to be born with a power I didn’t want. I’m so privileged to be kidnapped off the fucking streets and forced to work for a fucking maniac.” Tommy rolled his eyes again. “You're on another plane of reality, I swear to fucking Prime.”

“Tommy, stop trying to derail the lesson.” Dream's voice turned harsh suddenly, a warning that if he continued on this path he'd have to go to one of the rooms with all the hurty things again, and Tommy swallowed a lump in his throat, eyes downcast. “Very good. Now, this circle is an O. It’s not to be confused with a zero, which is more like a squished circle…”

——

“Can you define what a mage is for me, Tommy?”

“Course I can.” Tommy scoffed. “I am one, did you think I was a fuckin' idiot?”

“You're also incredibly obnoxious, but you can’t seem to define that.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Dream sighed, his voice dipping into that terrifying warning tone again. “Tommy. Behave.”

Gripping his shoulders tightly, Tommy tried his best to fight the overwhelming urge to vomit at even the threat of punishment. It would be inaccurate to describe Dream as having made suffering an art- no, he'd made it a game, one he took a childish glee in and one he'd learnt to grow very, very good at.

It’s not like Tommy wasn’t used to being hit around. He'd taken up being Father's punching bag after Mama died, up until he ran away. He'd been caught stealing shit and sleeping in abandoned buildings before, and normally that got you a good beating if you couldn’t cry your way out of it, but Dream was different.

Unlike the unfocused, angry pain of fists and kicks, breaking bones and bruising skin carelessly, Dream was careful in how he applied agony. He could make Tommy wish desperately for a simple beating without even leaving a mark, and any time he went further there was a chilling methodical way to it, like each injury was made to purposely mould Tommy both physically and mentally. Yet, every time afterwards, Tommy couldn’t help but fall for sudden kindness and soft touch and bandages, couldn’t help but desperately cling to the approval and blame himself.

“I'm sorry, sir,” he forced out.

“Don’t call me that, Tommy. I'm your friend, remember?”

“… yes, Dream. I'm sorry, Dream.”

“There you go. Now, again, what do you know about mages, Tommy?”

“Well, I know we have powers and shit, obviously. I've got my Sight, Punz has… I'm not really sure, but he has the golden glowy thing. I haven’t really met any other mages, though.” Tommy stuck out his tongue absently as he tried to recall as much as he could. “Uhh, I know that mages can always recognise other mages when they see them. It’s like… a weird, tingly feeling that’s all fuzzy. And we're, like, one in a million. So I'm special and cool and shit.”

Dream chuckled at that, ruffling Tommy's hair suddenly and plainly ignoring how it made him flinch. “You're definitely special, yes. I've never even heard of a mage with powers like yours, and the documents go back centuries.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Documents?”

“Well, yeah, since mages are technically the property of the royal family, you have to be documented carefully.” Dream's almost perpetual smile dropped at that. “I'm not happy about that too, you know. I've seen the ways that can go horribly wrong.”

“You're the King, aren’t you?” Tommy rolled his eyes. “Fucking change it, then.”

“I can’t just go around changing things like that, Tommy. I might not like it, but the Goddess…” Dream sighed. “Prime states clearly that mages are a gift to her chosen, made to aid them. Divine servants to Her will. I might not like it, but I can’t go against the Goddess. I want to change things. I am going to change things. But I can’t- I can’t just throw it all out. I'm no heretic.”

Tommy frowned. “But Prime also says that all humans are equal before Her light-“

“Good luck convincing people you are human.” There was an inexplicable bitterness in Dream's voice, though thankfully it didn’t seem to be directed at Tommy. “Most don’t see you that way, you know. They take your divinity to mean you’re just a tool, to be used and discarded. I- you should have seen how things were when I was your age. It was…”

As Dream trailed off, Tommy was hit with the realisation that this was the first time he'd ever seen him truly vulnerable. Dream was always a man of various masks, one of childish playfulness, another of cold indifference, one of pure anger, and many more he switched between on a whim, but there was a level of raw emotion in Dream's voice that made it painfully clear that this was a slip in his charade, a look behind the curtain. The feeling was incomprehensibly strange. Dream was easy to hate as this emotionless manipulator, but this rawness, this concern… Tommy couldn’t help but feel for him.

“I'm sorry,” Tommy said, not really being sure what else to do. “I'm sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Tommy. I promise.”

——

“Oh, I know this!”

Tommy flapped his hands in excitement, looking at the map. He'd learnt this before! He wasn’t stupid! Maybe something that he'd learnt during his blessed years on the streets had something worth transferring to this gold-plated hell.

“This-“ he pointed at the smaller, forested area highlighted in green, “is where we live, and past the border, here-“ he pointed at the icy cold wastelands that seemed to stretch on forever, “that’s the other place where you can’t go because they’re evil or something. I think.”

“… You're not wrong?” Dream laughed a little as he said that, so Tommy held onto hope he hadn’t accidentally said something really offensive and he was going to be hurt again. “Honestly, that’s more knowledge than some of the nobles have at this point. Do you know their names?”

“The Antarctic Empire is the other one, but…” Tommy closed his eyes, thinking hard. “I know the names of some of the towns here, but I never really thought about what all of it was. I just always thought of it as home.”

“Where we live is the Kingdom of Essempi.” Dream raised an eyebrow. “Did you really not know? I'm sure people have referred to me by my title around you, when I've taken you to court.”

Tommy shuddered just thinking of those memories. He always had to “look presentable” when in court, which meant long robes and capes he always tripped on and his hair mangled with one of those terrible torture devices called a comb. Everyone always stared at him, and it felt suffocating, like he was some sort of circus animal, and he was made to use his Sight to predict petty things for the amusement of the nobility. Whenever Dream wasn’t looking, he was always bombarded with poking and prodding, questions asked in a sing-song voice with the same sort of wording one would use for a toddler. He clung to Dream's side as much as possible to avoid that humiliation.

It was almost a relief how rare it was. Instead, he spent most of his life curled up in his glorified, or sitting with Dream in his study. (Or in one of those blood-splattered chambers, but he didn’t like to think about those much.) Technically, he could go wherever he liked in the castle, but it was incredibly difficult to do so when he couldn’t even stand without assistance.

That was his fault, he was aware. He'd put together some hair-brained escape plan, like he wouldn’t just be hunted down and caught anyway even if it somehow succeeded. Maybe none of his visions showed that, but that was because there was zero potential scenarios where his stupid plot worked, and he'd been able to see a lot of stupid plots work through use of his Sight, so that was saying something.

“Honestly, when I go to court, I spend the whole time not trying to deck one of the arseholes who won’t stop bugging me in the face.” Immediately, Tommy froze, petrified he'd said the wrong thing, but Dream burst into laughter.

“Oh, that’s true for all of us, I think. The sacrifices one must make for power. I must admit, I'd prefer things the Antarctic way sometimes.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“If you can’t get someone to agree with you there, assassinating and brutalising those political opponents is just another form of diplomacy.”

“Uh, don’t we already assassinate and fuck up your enemies?” Tommy had grown numb to the constant orders to find out when someone Dream hated and Tommy didn’t know was alone and most vulnerable, to see what dirt could be used to blackmail them, their greatest fears, their weaknesses. He had to use his Sight there every day, and it was miserable, but he supposed it was less boring than when it was used to see a million different affects for each policy, and less terrifying than being asked to see his and Dream's death and seeing them both inch further and further away to the point decades became centuries became unSeeable.

“Well, yeah, but in secret. The Empire is honest about their brutality, at least. Maybe they’re better than us, in that way.” Dream said. “They might not know the light of Prime, but honestly I don’t think anyone here does either, except maybe me and you.”

You wouldn’t know the light of Prime if it blinded you, is what Tommy want to say, but he bit his tongue and took a deep breath. Instead, he said “They don't believe in Prime?”

“I mean, I’m sure some of them do, but they don’t operate by Her principles. Instead of life, they revere death. I suppose they’re honest there, too, revering the one thing that unites us all. Well,” he laughed, “almost all of us.”

Tommy swallowed and nodded. He didn’t like to think about that possibility too much. He barely even wanted to be alive a second longer, not living like a caged bird, and the idea of being trapped like this forever was something he deeply feared.

“Have you ever been, Tommy? I think you'd like it.”

Tommy blinked. “Uh, no. How would I? There’s always fighting on the borders, I'm not idiotic enough to go there.”

“I should take you next time, then. It's… I’ve never seen anywhere else where mages are allowed to go around freely. It’s really quite inspiring.”

“Sounds like I should have been, then.” Tommy couldn't fully hide his bitterness there. “I'm- I know you're trying to help me, of course. I’m not fucking ungrateful or anything about that. I just… it’s stupid, I know, but I wanna go outside again.” More than that, he wanted to be free, but he knew saying that would get him a world of hurt.

“I mean, if you like the snow, maybe?” Dream laughed, before his voice turned serious. “Tommy, I know how it might sound, but that place… it’s not any better than things are here, and I'm at least trying to fix things. Mages might be treated like humans, but those without magic… they’re barely seen as anything. I've seen how empathetic and kind you are, y’know. You'd hate it there, too.”

“Why can’t anywhere just be nice? Why do they all have to be weird and fucked up and shit?”

Dream sighed. “You know, I’ve wondered the same thing before. But, hey!” Dream smiled wide, in a way that was innocent and spine chilling all at once. “We can find that out together.”

——

“Tommy, have I ever told you about my father?”

Dream looked dishevelled today, too-long hair sticking out in a million directions, deep bags under his eyes, his usual paleness a pallid sick tone. His tunic was stained deep red- Tommy didn’t want to think from where- and he pulled on the edge of his sleeve obsessively.

“I know he was the king before you, and he got sick, but that’s about it.” Tommy tapped his fingers on the table impatiently, waiting for the lesson to begin, but it seemed like that wasn’t in the cards. No, today would be another day where Dream dumped everything bad that ever happened to him on Tommy's shoulders and expected him to shoulder that burden along with his own.

“He was never sick. I poisoned him, myself.” The words flew out of Dream's mouth like he'd wanted to tell someone for so long. “He- it was the only way. He deserved it.”

“I understand that.” Tommy grasped his hands together hard enough he could feel blood pooling under his fingernails. “My father was a right dickhead, too. I hope he's drank himself to death, and good fucking riddance.”

“It’s only the good that die young, you know. Without interference.” Dream gave a grin, but it was strained. “I have eyes everywhere, Tommy. I can make him wish he was dead, if you want.”

“No, Prime no, fuck.” Tommy buried his head in his hands. “I want him dead, I don’t want him to suffer.” No, Tommy didn’t want anyone to suffer under Dream's hands like he did. Not even Father.

“Your loss.” Dream sighed and leaned forward on the table, any last pretences of professionalism erased. “If you tell anyone any of this, I'll bring in that little friend of yours, by the way.”

“You promised nothing would hurt Tubbo. That was the deal.”

“I promised nothing would kill Tubbo. There’s a lot you can do to a person without killing them, y’know.” Dream laughed bitterly. “Plus, we both know that deal is bullshit anyway. Just a stupid way of making the both of us feel better about the role we were born into.”

“… I won’t tell anyone. Couldn't even if I wanted to, man. It’s not like you let anyone else around me.”

“See, no need to worry, huh?” What might have been the slightest hint of relief hung heavy in his voice. “Tubbo's safe, and has somewhere to stay. I can promise you that.”

“I don’t trust a single word out your fucking mouth. You're a liar.”

“I need to be. The court eats honest people like you alive. Father taught me that. But you… I can be honest around you, Tommy. Thanks for that.” Tommy's not sure he’s ever seen one of Dream's many smiles meet his eyes before, but this one was soft, genuine. “I've never had a friend before.”

Something about that managed to tug at Tommy's heart, no matter how much of a monster he knew the man was. Dream was like that- simultaneously terrifying and tragic, cold and cruel yet desperately possessive. Charismatic and well spoken, yet horribly awkward in any attempts at genuineness. Tommy despised him to the core and adored him more than Prime at once.

“It’s pretty poggers, huh?” He said, not really being sure what else to say.

Dream raised an eyebrow. “What in Primes name does poggers mean?”

“Dunno. I just made it up. I’m an innovator.” Tommy stuck his tongue out, and it made Dream start laughing.

“I wish I could have been as carefree as you are, when I was your age.” There was a wistful sigh there. “My father never laid a hand on me physically, but he knew far worse ways to get me to be his little puppet. I'm the only legitimate child he ever had, so he wanted to make sure I was the perfect heir. He just ruined my whole life in the process.”

Tommy couldn’t help but notice the hypocrisy of Dream complaining about such a thing while being in the middle of actively ruining Tommy's life, but he let it slide. “Y'know, I get it.” He said, instead. “My father- well, he did hit me, but only after Mama died. But the worst thing he did was make me feel stupid and useless. At least I have a use here.”

“I always knew my use. I never got a chance to hide from it, not like you did. Maybe that’s better, though. All I’ve ever known is this cage, yet you’ve seen the world beyond it. What's it like?”

“… You know, I don’t even think I can remember.” The way the breeze felt on his face, the light of the sun, it all seemed like a story now. Something mythical. “Can't you just run? Who would stop you?”

“My responsibilities. My people. I know it might be hard to believe, but I care about doing what’s best for my rightful land. I'm not like my father, wasting his life away with alcohol and pretty women.” Dream snorted. “You know, I can’t even stand the smell of wine anymore, and the idea of getting married and starting a family like I know is my duty one day fills me with terror. If I could, I'd just declare you my heir, since it’s not like I’m dying anyway, but it doesn’t work like that.”

“Huh. Guess things aren’t so different between the rags and the riches.” Tommy hummed. “Father would spend all his money at taverns on the cheapest beers and cheapest… y’know, and leave me and Mama with nothing. I learnt how to steal to survive.”

“I had my first assassination attempt when I was six. If I died, my throne would go to one of my fathers bastards, and I guess one of them figured it out.” Dream laughed, wiping at his eyes for some reason. “You want to know the funny thing? I have sixteen half-siblings, and a little sister, but you’re the only person I’ve ever felt like kin to.”

“Wait. Are you crying?” The idea seemed ludicrous, the idea that the man who could do such horrible things with a serene smile on his face, one who relished in the suffering of his enemies, could ever be so vulnerable, so low, seemed like a sick joke.

“Just rub it in, don’t you?” Dream buried his face in the table. “Prime, Father wouldn’t feed me for a week if I cried in front of him. I haven’t done it in years.”

“You can cry in front of me, mate. I'm not… I mean, I couldn’t hurt you even if I wanted to, but I wouldn’t be looking to stab you in the back even if I could.” Dream might have been a snake, but if all he saw in the bushes was more snakes, fangs ready to strike, Tommy couldn’t help but pity him for that.

“You're the only person I know who won't. I just…” Dream sighed, and slowly lifted himself from being flopped awkwardly on the table. “I never felt like a person until I met you.”

Tommy had only felt like a person until he met Dream. He banished that thought as soon as it appeared, though. He'd learnt better. He just nodded and smiled. Couldn’t go wrong with that.

“I don’t…” Dream sighed. “I've never had anyone I could tell any of this to, before. It’s… I don’t know. It’s weird.” Getting up and crouching beside Tommy's chair, he returned the same smile Tommy gave him, and Tommy could see that he had been crying. “You're my one weakness, you know? I'm never letting you go.”

Dream pulled Tommy suddenly into a hug, pulling him around like a ragdoll. That’s all he really was anymore, wasn’t he, though? A toy to a lonely child, a tool to the most desperate in need, a punching bag for people to take their anger out on. He wasn’t a person. He hadn’t been a person ever since he was dragged into this hell carved out of marble.

He didn’t even care, anymore. At least he was useful.

#my writing #dream smp #primeboys (derogatory) #seer au #tw kidnapping #tw imprisonment #tw child abuse #tw infantilisation #tw referenced torture #tw manipulation #tw dehumanisation #tw mild xenophobia #tw victim blaming #tw mutilation #tw referenced murder #tw suicidal ideation #tw codependency #tw trauma dumping #tw self harm #tw threats #tw Stockholm syndrome #tw Lima syndrome

[uisstuff]

Honestly clingyduo and their pranks, especially the clock one, got me giggling so much ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ. They are just precious ❤️

Golly oh gee, a hogwarts letter for Tommy?

By: Poseiboom

"Day after day, Tubbo would turn the hands of time back and forth, like it was a toy he could play with.

He once turned forward a whole twenty eight hours, and it was a hectic ‘Thursday’ morning."

#tommyinnit #mcyt #dsmp #tubbo #tommy and tubbo #tubbo fanart #tommyinnit fanart #harry potter au #clingy duo fanart #clingy duo #dsmp fanfic recommendations #dsmp tommy

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

without anesthetic

by Zannolin

Wilbur disappears on a Thursday or maybe a Friday, stumbling off into the darkened streets of their sleepy little college town with a jaw-cracking yawn and a muttered comment about some essay or other he has due Monday, and it takes Tommy until Saturday to notice, ‘til Sunday to start worrying.

or, Wilbur goes missing, and Tommy isn't good at following the rules.

Words: 2176, Chapters: 1/12, Language: English

Fandoms: Dream SMP

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo, Phil Watson | Philza, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Karl Jacobs & TommyInnit

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Elsewhere University Fusion, Fae & Fairies, Abduction, Fae Magic, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Wilbur Soot is Not Okay, Changelings, Small Towns, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, guys I hate tagging, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit-centric, Phil Watson is Wilbur Soot's Parent

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/40636191

#IFTTT #ao3feed #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #crimeboys #crime boys #crimebois #crime bois #mcyt #This is

[daggryet]

Crossing my fingers Tommy streams tonight!! Exile anniversary!!

you'll be crossing them in vain, he's going on ludwig's bro vs pro tonight, sorry :/

but sam's doing a big lore stream tonight!!

#ask #anon #but yeah i'd hoped he'd stream before it was moved from thursday to today because it's different than nov 16th #november 16th was a huge day for literally every character and i'd taken a lore stream from anyone - exile anniversary is pretty confined #to c!tommy maybe c!tubbo as well because of the decisions he felt he needed to make

[boygirlctommy]

y’all I’m so scared of what’ll happen when tommy breaks into the prison?? because Sam has made it clear he’ll kill/ torture anyone who puts the security of the prison in jeopardy. but he also promised to protect Tommy no matter what and still feels awful about him dying.

#/roleplay #my post #mcyt #HHH #WHAT WILL HAPPEN #HHH!! #also tommy is 100% not expecting to come out of this alive #;( #HAPPIER NOTE- he’s definitely been in some off camera therapy #I mean would tommy normally know what exposure therapy is? or share his feelings? NO #he’s over here like ‘okay talk through your feelings talk through your feelings’ AND IM CRYING IM SO PROUD OF HIM #him telling tubbo n Ranboo about being afraid of taking damage and about his trauma?? #him telling tubbo that he really cares about Ranboo even though he gets super jealous of them ;( #anyways I’m just really proud of this kid and I hope he survives Thursday/Friday

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Monday

Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Pairing: SBI x sister!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, toxic friends, panic spirals/attacks, injury, taking pills for pain

Summary: you have a very bad week, how will you manage? (Characters are fully human, but based on their DSMP characters. High school AU)

Word count: 4,818

(A/N): I’ve never played volleyball or watched Haikyuu before, so I’m not 100% certain how games work. Also, I probs should’ve split this into two parts, but eh.

“(Y/n) love, you look homeless in that sweater, it’s literally so fucking ugly.”

“Haha, yeah it is. I guess I just wasn’t really trying today.”

Adrian snorted, scanning your body with his cold eyes. “Today? You don’t try at all. You always look like trash.”

“More than trash, you always look like you just rolled in dog shit.” Sammy threw her head back and cackled at her own joke.

Your friends around you erupted in laughter as you four walked down the hallways of the hell that was your public high school. You awkwardly chuckled alongside them, you didn’t really find it funny, but you didn’t want to draw more attention towards yourself. 

“Seriously, (y/n), I really don’t know why we still hang out around you anymore. You really let yourself go.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it, you did gain like five pounds in the past week.”

“Really not a good look on you, love. Then again, nothing you do can make you look good anymore.”

You tried to not let their comments get to you, you really did, but sometimes their comments just rooted themselves deep into your subconscious. You didn’t try looking good anymore, you couldn’t wear anything without them criticising it. You could never win. 

“Awe,” Adrien poked your cheeks, “stop looking so sad. We’re just trying to give you advice. You really need it.”

“Yeah, (y/n). You’re so sensitive, get a grip.”

“Guys look, I think she’s gonna cry!” 

You wiped at your welling eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m not. I just got allergies.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Anyways, what are our plans for Halloween? We should totally dress up like sexy angels! I think that’d be so cool. Like, Clint’s party won’t be ready for us.”

“Oh, about that Annie…”

“God, what now (y/n)?”

“I was actually planning on spending Halloween night taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating with my brothers and dad. I won’t be able to go with you guys, I’m sorry.”

The group groaned loudly. “C’mon (y/n), you never hang out with us anymore.”

“Oh my god (y/n) you still go trick-or-treating? We’re juniors.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with my AP classes and studying for the SAT. My team captain’s really been pushing the team hard with volleyball practice. State finals are soon and we want first this year.”

“No matter how much studying you do, you’re gonna fail. You’re stupid, so why try? Just give up and hang out with uuussss.”

“Yeah (y/n),” Adrien looked at you suspiciously, “you’ve been ignoring us lately. I thought we were friends. Do you even wanna be friends anymore?”

You felt a flare of panic flare up in your gut. “I do! I-I just have so much going on right now. It’s starting to get hard to juggle everything.”

“We’re starting to think that you don’t like us anymore, we want our (y/n) back!” Sammy whined. The others agreed with her, making you feel guilty. You were ignoring them, it was selfish in your opinion. You supposed that you could skip out on taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating, there’ll be other years you could take them. 

“I guess I can take Tommy and Tubbo another year. They’d just have to go without me this year.”

They cheered, giving you praise. You beamed at that, they seemed down lately and you loved it when they’d give you compliments. They didn’t do that much, so that made their praise more special to you. You strived to get compliments.

You four went off to your separate first classes for the day. Yours was statistics, a class you’ve been struggling in lately. You didn’t know anybody in there except for your oldest brother Techno, so you tried to stick with him. Unfortunately, the teacher’s seating chart placed you both on opposite ends of the room, probably because of your last names indicating that you’re siblings. You placed your stuff down on the table and plopped down into your seat, already drained. You had a long day ahead of you; you had a major AP world history test in your next class, you had to give a presentation in your AP english class that was worth a quarter of your final grade, and you had a semifinals volleyball match that would last until late in the night. If your team won, you would be going to state finals, so it was a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You were the main setter, so you had to really focus tonight if you were going to score your team points. 

“Alright class, pull out your homework!”

Fuck, you had homework? You looked in your folder, only to see the unfinished sheet full of equations you didn’t understand staring back at you tauntingly. Mr. Mullins walked over to your desk, took one look at your blank homework, and just walked right past you. Another big fat zero in the gradebook for you, just what you needed. At least he wasn’t in the mood to berate you today. You didn’t need any more stress piled onto your shoulders. 

The lesson felt like it dragged on forever with you frantically trying to copy down the notes on the board and trying to understand the content at the same time. Overtime, he would call students up to the board. Hopefully, he would skip over you today. “Ms. Minecraft.” Goddamn it, you spoke too soon.

Your head perked up and you looked at him. “Yes sir?”

“Come up to the board and solve this.”

Gulping, you felt panic rise up in you and stood up with shaky knees. On the board was part of the newer content he was just teaching. Something that you understood only a little bit better than the rest, and that’s not saying much. You still didn’t understand the content completely. Your writing was shaky as you wrote what you thought was right on the board. Finding the answer, you circled it and looked at Mr. Mullins. He looked disappointed. 

“That’s wrong, Ms. Minecraft. Please sit down.”

You felt like your face was on fire as you saw the entire class burning holes into you with their eyes. Though they looked dead inside, as per usual with any morning class full of tired teenagers, their effects still took hold on you. You wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die. You sat back down and stared at your note packet, you couldn’t focus on the lecture anymore. Your attention was fully on your surroundings, you were hyper aware of every little whisper and bouncing leg in your peripheral vision. You could feel yourself spiraling, usually that wouldn’t happen until after your third class. Today was going to be rough. 

The loud chime of the bell startled you out of your thoughts. You shakily put your papers back into your binder and put the binder back into your backpack. Right as you were about to walk through the door, you heard Techno catch up to you. “Hey, you good?”

“Yeah Tech, I’m just peachy.”

“Are you su-”

“Technoblade. I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I have an important presentation I’ve gotta prepare for.”

Without giving him any room to argue, you rushed off to your english class. You had Adrian and Annie in your class. For your presentation, you were paired up with people that you hardly knew. At least they did their part in the project, you were certain you were going to die if you got paired up with Adrian and Annie again. You loved them, but they never did any part of their portion of work. They left it to you to finish at midnight the day the project was due. To be fair, they both told you they had family emergencies, so you covered for them just that once. 

You pulled out your flashcards only to have them knocked out of your hand when someone bumped into you. You quickly crouched to pick them up so you could have them in order by time class started. “Oops, sorry love.”

It was Annie. She and Adrian towered over your crouched form smirking at you. Looking back down to rearrange your cards, you murmured “it’s ok.”

“Are you ready for this presentation, I know I am.”

You smiled a little. “Actually, I think I’m going to ace this. English is my best subject.”

“Yeah (y/n), I wasn’t asking you. I was talking to Annie. Besides, you’re probably going to fail this.” Adrian scoffed. 

“Thank you for asking, Adrian,” Annie shot a pointed look at you, “at least someone cares.”

The bell rang, signifying the start of your second block. You felt like you had a lump in your throat blocking your breathing. If Adrian, one of the smartest kids in your english class, said that you were going to fail, then you probably were going to fail. That would take a huge hit on your grade, this project was worth a quarter of your final grade after all. You were zoned out for the entirety of your classmate’s presentations putting yourself into a spiral. You jumped when Mr. Todd, your teacher, called your group up to present.

You stood stiffly in the middle of your two groupmates and clutched your flashcards with clammy hands. Luckily, your part of the presentation was not first. When it came to your part, you were stuttering and tumbling over your words. You even dropped your flashcards in front of everybody, causing half the class to snicker. Your face burned as you hurried to pick them up and your other groupmate took this as a signal to continue the presentation. You still had an important point to make that was integral for the set up to your other groupmate’s part of her presentation. You stared at your flashcards for the rest of the presentation. 

When the bell rang, you made a mad dash out of the classroom. You didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially not Adrian or Annie. It was a relief that you had your lunch period at the moment. You could hide yourself in the bathroom nobody used and let your panic attack ride itself out. 

You ducked inside a stall and sat on the toilet, bringing your knees up to bury your face in them. The tears and panic you were holding in all day let itself out with explosive effects. You started to hyperventilate as you muffled your sobs with your knee. Your chest painfully clenched so you couldn’t breathe. Your limbs felt like they weighed two tons each and they were shaking intensely. You didn’t hear the end of the lunch bell ring. By the time you calmed down slightly, you were five minutes late to AP world history. 

You packed your stuff up in a hurry, power walking through the halls. You probably looked like shit, but you didn’t care, you had a class to get to and a test that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish now. You lost ten minutes of your test time. When you tried to open the closed door, you found that it was locked. You had to knock if you wanted to get in. You raised a shaking hand to knock, but the door was opened by a less-than-impressed Ms. Osborne. She ushered you to your desk and gave you your unit test. 

You couldn’t focus. The multiple choice section was usually a breeze to you, but you couldn’t comprehend any of the questions. When you could comprehend them, you couldn’t concentrate on choosing an answer. You did your best to find the correct answers, but you were almost positive that at least half of them were wrong. Your handwriting was nearly incomprehensible and your essay topic was something you didn’t study for. When you were done with half of the body paragraphs, the bell rang and you had to turn in your unfinished test. 

You had your independent online psychology course next in the library. You usually worked alone secluded in a corner deep inside the library where nobody went. You would get some solace in being alone. Maybe you’d calm down enough so that you could ride home with your brothers and not go for a long walk so you could avoid them. 

You settled down in the comfortable chair and pulled out your laptop to get started. Psychology was your favorite class. It was easy for you to understand, it didn’t have much of a workload attached to it, and it was fun to learn about. It always calmed you down reading about the intricate workings of the brain. 

By time the day was over, you got most of your psychology work done and you were on your way to the car you shared with Technoblade and Wilbur. You took out your spare keys and slumped against the window in the backseat. You were absolutely drained after your terrible day and you still felt panic swirling deep within you, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

You stretched out your legs across the seat and leaned your back against the door. For the first time that day, you felt peaceful. You still had at least fifteen minutes to yourself until your brothers would start to make your way to the car. You felt the panic subside slightly and you fully relaxed. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a light sleep. You needed your energy for tonight’s match. 

The door you were leaning on swung open and you tumbled backwards smacking the back of your head against the metal frame of the car and reverse scorpioning onto the pavement. Your entire upper back and the back of your head exploded in pain and your lower back hurt slightly from having your back bent uncomfortably. You heard laughter above you as you felt tears of pain start to slip out of your eyes. Your legs swung out from their place above your face and landed on the ground with a painful thump. 

You saw three blurry figures above you laughing at your pain. You reached up with a shaky hand to wipe at your tears and saw Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. They were cackling as you shakily stood up and sat on the comfortable seats of the car. You waited patiently for them to calm down. 

Eventually, Sammy calmed down enough to explain what happened to you through chuckles. “I’m sorry (y/n), it was just too good to resist. You should’ve seen your face.”

She and the others broke back into uncontrolled laughter as they remembered your embarrassing fall. You were used to their antics, and quite frankly it felt good to make your friends laugh, even if it were at your own expense. Just as they were calming down once again, you saw Wilbur and Techno walk out the front doors of the school laughing at something the other said. Annie and Sammy heard their laughter and quickly turned around to watch them. They had massive crushes on both of your brothers, many in the school did. 

Your brothers made their way to your shared car and stopped to look at you in slight confusion. “(Y/n), were you crying? What happened?” Wilbur asked worriedly. 

“Yea-”

“Oh Wilbur, it was terrible, (y/n) fell out of the car. I don’t think she closed the door before she leaned on it.” Annie interrupted you with a faked concerned tone, a complete contradiction to her reaction before your brothers came.

Techno hastily made his way to the driver’s side door. “Well, if she’s hurt we better get going, right Wilbur?”

“Yes! We better get going, please excuse us.” He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door without hearing Sammy and Annie’s desperate attempts to stop them so they could talk to them. Your brothers thought Sammy and Annie were annoying. They absolutely hated being around them. 

Waving apologetically at your friends, you pulled yourself into the car and closed the door. Annie and Sammy looked offended that you had let Wilbur and Techno get away from them. Avoiding their eyes, you looked down at your tightly clasped hands. They were shaking slightly. 

After pulling out of the parking lot, Techno glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “You ok (y/n)?”

“Yeah, my back just hurts and I have a headache.”

“Well, do you wanna go and get some ice cream? We still have some time left before we have to pick up Tommy and Tubbo. Dad doesn’t have to know,” Wilbur asked you.

You sighed, you wanted nothing other than to take a nap before your match. “Sorry, but I need to watch what I eat today. We have semifinals tonight and I can’t have anything sugary. I just wanna go home and take a nap.”

Your brothers were quiet for the rest of the car ride until you reached your driveway. Techno twisted his body around in his seat to look at you after he put the car in park. “Did you actually fall out of the car?”

Shit, should you tell him the truth? If you did, they would almost certainly get mad at your friends. Sammy and Annie would never forgive you if you turned your brothers against them. You decided that you would take one for the team again. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Techno snorted. “Well, that was stupid,” he jokingly said. “Next time you’re gonna get run over by a parked car.”

You knew that he meant that as a joke, but it still stung. Stamping your emotions down, you laughed with him and Wilbur. It was stupid of you to do, you shouldn’t have let your guard down if you weren’t at home. 

You winced as you slung your bag on your back and walked the best you could back into your house. Your upper back was killing you. You made a beeline to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for some pain relief pills. You took some and shambled off to your room to take your well earned nap. You set your alarm’s setting to its loudest volume and passed out. 

You jolted up and gasped when you felt a wave of pain hit your upper back. You blearily looked at the time. You had a little under two hours before you had to get back to the school for your match. You groaned when you pulled yourself up, your head pounding with every turn. You pulled yourself out of bed and once again took some pain pills. You went downstairs to grab an apple or something to eat. Your dad was at the stove stirring something around in a pot. 

He turned to look at you with an excited smile. “You ready for your match tonight? You’re gonna kill it!” 

You only nodded halfheartedly and plopped yourself down at the table with your apple. Philza frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, but he figured that it was just because you just woke up from a nap. You’d bounce back eventually. 

“Wilbur told me that you fell out of the car? How’d you do that?”

You shrugged, wincing slightly as it moved your back slightly. “Dunno, must’ve not closed the door.”

Philza was at your side in a hurry, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Show me where it hurts.”

“My back and the back of my head.”

“Can I move your shirt so I could look?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

You felt him gently pull the neck of your t-shirt away from your body to peek at your back. You heard his breath hitch as he looked. Was it that bad? “Good god (y/n),” he breathed out.

“What, is it bad?”

“Don’t you feel how bad it is? Your entire back is bruised. I think there’s some blood too.”

“Damn.”

“First, language. Second, that’s all you have to say? Aren’t you in pain?”

“Yeah, but the pain pills are gonna kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”

“Would you be able to play tonight? I really think you should sit this one out.”

“No, I’m playing tonight Dad.”

“(Y/n),” oh no, he was using his stern dad voice. “It’s not a good idea to play tonight. You’re hurt, I’m sure they’ll understand if you sit this one out.”

You felt frustration rise up in you. “We’re in the semifinals. They need me, I’m the main setter. They’d lose without me playing.”

“(Y/n), I’m serious. You’re not playing today.”

“Dad, I am playing today. Look, I’ll talk to Coach Williams to see if I could be rotated out more often. I know she’d let me.”

He stared at you for a while before sighing. He knew there was no convincing you. “...Fine. But you better talk to Coach Williams about sitting out for a bit if your back hurts too much or I swear I’ll drag you off the court myself.”

You smiled a little at the small victory. “Thank you! I promise I’ll sit out if needed.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “If needed?”

You sighed, “when needed.”

He walked over to the pot, stirring the contents slightly. “That’s better. Dinner’s almost ready, I made some pasta.”

“It smells good, but I think I’m skipping out on it for today. I already ate this apple and if I eat any more I’ll probably hurl on the court.”

He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, “fine, but you’re eating something when we get home tonight.”

He walked off to go get your brothers and Tubbo for dinner. You could hear their booming steps racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. They raced into the kitchen and almost crashed into the back of your chair. You stood up and looked at the two excitable fifth graders. “Careful boys, don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re no fun (y/n),” Tommy whined.

“Sure, sorry bout that,” Tubbo beamed at you.

You chuckled, making your way upstairs to get ready for your match. You took off your clothes with great difficulty and slipped on your jersey and your spandex shorts. They were way too short for your tastes, but you couldn’t wear longer ones, they’d just get in the way. You fondly remembered how your dad flipped out when he first saw you in them, he hated them with a burning passion. He still hates how short they are.

When you were struggling with pulling your hair back into a tight, sleek ponytail, the back of your head throbbed continuously with pain. You most likely bruised your scalp. 

You slipped on your shoes that were made specifically for playing volleyball and headed downstairs. You were met with Tommy and Tubbo jumping in excitement seeing you in your uniform. They loved going to your matches, even if they would always pass out in the car after them because matches usually ended late at night. You grabbed your dad’s keys and headed to his car. Before you could lead the boys out the door, Philza’s voice stopped you.

“(Y/n), coat.”

You huffed, grabbing your coat and putting it on before tossing him his keys. You four got into the car and set out for the high school. The short drive was filled with Tommy and Tubbo asking you questions about volleyball and encouraging you. “(Y/n), you’re gonna kick their butts!”

“Yeah!” Tubbo cheered 

Despite their voices causing a spike of pain to shoot throughout your head, you laughed at their enthusiasm. It was always nice to hear your little brother and pseudo brother in the stands cheering you on, they were your and your team’s personal cheerleaders. 

Not long after you got to the school, you were stretching with your team on the gym’s floor. Your posse found their way into the stands, sitting in the front row. The away team watched your team like a hawk, analysing every single player for any weakness. It was because of them that you tried to not show any pain when you moved your back. You talked to Coach Williams before the team stretch and she was obviously sympathetic with your situation. She agreed to switching you out with the standby setter every few rotations. 

The echo of the whistles caused pain to ring in your head every time someone scored or a foul was called. Your team captain, Haley, was constantly, yet discreetly checking on you throughout the game since she was always next to you. She was the team’s main spiker after all. 

The game droned on and on before you realized that the opposing team was targeting you when they were offensive. They probably realized that you were injured a round ago. You tried your best to block every ball that was sent your way, but a few managed to slip past you when you couldn’t move fast enough. This team was good, but your team was better. 

The score during the final round was tied and the clock was on it’s last ten seconds as the ball soared your way. You dove to hit it, landing on your shoulder on the hard floor and hitting it up high enough for Haley to spike the ball down. The crowd went wild as the ball bounced off from the opposite end of the court almost simultaneously with the screeching of the referee’s whistle, signifying the end of the game and your team’s victory.

You laid on the floor in pain, you thought you must’ve pulled your tender muscles in your back and shoulder. It hurt to move it. You felt one of your teammates grab your hand to yank you up into a giant full team group hug. You yelped slightly in pain as you felt arms press against your back and hands firmly patting your bruised shoulders. You were whisked away into the locker room to change into the pajamas you brought with you. 

“(Y/n), are you alright? That was a pretty hard fall.” Haley’s soft voice asked you. You felt your heart sing in your chest. 

“Yeah Hales, I’m fine. I just pulled a few muscles.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed together, “are you sure? As your team captain and your friend, I’m worried about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You felt warm knowing that she cared about you. “I’m sure, worrywart.”

She rolled her eyes playfully and breathed out a soft laugh. “Sorry for asking, grump.” Her laugh sounded like music to your ears. 

Your phone vibrated in your pajama pocket, alerting you of your family waiting for you in the car and for you to hurry up. You sighed, “sorry Hales, I gotta go. Dad’s getting impatient.” 

She gave you a small smile. “Oh, well, tell your family I said hi! Good work on the court today, I wouldn’t ask for a different setter.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and you watched with wide eyes as she left the locker room. Your phone vibrated again, your dad was really starting to get impatient. 

You walked out of the school as fast as you could to find your dad’s car waiting for you up front. Jumping in and softly closing the passenger side door, you slumped against the window. “(Y/n),” Tommy’s tired voice slurred. “That. Was. Pog…”

You glanced back to see him and Tubbo snoring away in their seats. Your match was more exciting than usual, so that must’ve really tired them out. You chuckled, turning back around to lean against the window. You took care not to put any weight on your shoulder or back. 

“(Y/n), you were amazing out there, but why did you dive for that ball? That fall looked like it hurt.”

You hummed tiredly, “thanks Dad. I just did what I thought would win us the game. We’re going to finals!” You quietly sang. 

“Did you hurt your shoulder?”

“I actually don’t know, but I think I might’ve pulled a few muscles. Nothing too bad.”

“...I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow morning during your first and second blocks. I want you to get your back, shoulder, and head looked at. You looked miserable the entire match.”

You sighed, too tired to argue, “mmk.”

He chuckled before the car fell into a comfortable silence. The gentle bouncing of the car and the subtle hum of the engine was lulling you to sleep. Your eyelids were drooping by the time you pulled into your driveway. 

You drug yourself out of the car and into the house, leaving Philza with the sleeping boys. You walked straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, passing out instantly for the second time that day.

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #sibling reader #sister reader #platonic #reader is a lesbian #toxic friends #volleyball #mcyt #mcyt x reader #high school AU #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #tubbo x reader #tw: swearing #tw: toxic friendship #tw: panic attack #tw: injury #tw: anxiety #tw: bullying

[digitalta]

tw: Character death [hehe, enjoy @skitter-kitteruwu, @eggpires]

They decide to execute Dream on a Thursday. It was a collaborative decision, a democratic one- if not for the varying forms of governing styles and political preferences. They had discussed it in person, arguing with words or through the heavily encrypted lines each communicator used. Some people were more vocal than others, some listened and never spoke. Others argued back and forth until it became a personal feud and not one driven by the topic at hand.

They decided to execute Dream on a Thursday, because the reason they kept him alive was one driven out of selfish need and not respect that the dead should stay dead. Out of kindness or mercy, or a vague mimicry of compassion in a world with so little to spare- they allowed him to pick his poison. What method to his madness, what tempered steel to slay the dragon its final time?

They expected something violent and gruesome. Maybe the Axe of Peace in one last hurrah, maybe a small weapon unfit for killing as a last traumatic laugh. Maybe he’d request poison, breathing his last moments under a thick hazy illusion of peace in the end. They ask him, and he states, “I want a firing squad.”

There are 5 crossbows, one for each person he listed by name. There had been hours in between, long lapses of time as he shakily wrote each name in a jittering scrawl across an empty page. They gave him 24 hours to decide how they would kill him, and he took 24 hours to write the people he wanted to look at when he died.

Theres 5 crossbows, but only an undisclosed number of them have firework rockets packed with small iron nuggets to cause a lethal strike. The rockets themselves would hurt but lacked the sting unless loaded properly with explosives and molten metal. Tubbo wore the testament to their cruelty, painting his skin in a facsimile of art with every expression. Theres 5 crossbows loaded by an unknown person, shuffled by yet another person, and arranged indiscriminately to the point where it was impossible to identify which were lethal and which were not. There's 5 crossbows, and Bad can’t help but feel vile and sour as he selects one from the lineup.

Sapnap’s expression is firm and uncaring, but his hand shakes the slightest bit as he plucks one loaded weapon from the 4 remaining. There is something unfamiliar in his body and poise. In utter contrast to Sapnap, Punz wears his disguise of a mercenary well. For all his love of riches and disregard of others, there’s a reason he was selected by Dream to be here. Punz is indifferent, but there’s something strange in his eye and a scabbed line on his lip from where he tore it sometime in the past day.

Sam argued he had to attend, claiming his right as the Warden to stay on site in the case that they fail. Bad thinks the idea itself is ridiculous, a strike from five rockets would incapacitate someone even if they weren’t prepared to be lethal. There’s no reason for Sam to be here other than his own selfish need to see Dream die. Sam thankfully doesn’t interfere as Tommy steps forward, silent for the first time, as he plucks his crossbow daintily. He holds it in his arms like it’s precious, cradling it to his chest protectively as he skirts across the sheltered end of the firing range on the tips of his toes. He doesn’t look anyone in the eye, even Sam, and instead traces imagined patterns on the polished wood of the killing machine with his fingers.

There’s 5 crossbows, the last one staying on its table until Bad speaks roughly. When he does, it directs George to finally move, bones and joints mechanical as he holds it. There’s something disturbing about the absent expression on the man’s face- his goggles forgotten and his eyes red rimmed. He holds the weapon like this entire situation is a nightmare, and Bad horribly wishes it was.

Dream hadn’t removed his mask in years. It was a last act of kindness Sam provided in the hellscape that was Pandora’s Box. Dream’s body was unremarkable, but not at all like how they remembered it. He’s thin, limp and smaller under the clean new hoodie offered to him to die in- he laughed at it with a tinge of hysteria. It makes the situation worse, painful as the fabric billows around his smaller body and the tight confines of unnecessary chains.

He isn’t laughing, Bad didn’t know why he thought Dream would be. This isn’t funny, there isn’t some ulterior motive to this. There’s no reason why this should be funny. Dream looks at them from across the measurable distance, counting the five names he requested.

Dream requests his mask be removed. It feels fake, there has to be a reason for it. There must be a plan, a last manipulative effort. Tommy doesn’t protest, Sam doesn’t argue. George is the one to remove Dream’s mask, hands shaking as Dream states that the man should keep it.

Dream stares at them and everything feels wrong. Someone asks why- Bad can’t focus enough to identify who it is that spoke- and Dream says he doesn’t want to die alone. George chokes on a sound, Tommy turns away to avoid looking at Dream chained to a chair on a Thursday.

There’s a feeling of recoil that accompanies that of a loaded firework. There’s a specific kickback that only occurs when iron is propelled under gunpowder and paper. The feeling doesn’t come from a blank- they have 5 fireworks to disguise who it is that is the murderer. It’s to disguise their guilt, the blame for who did it. It’s a painful burn on Bad’s fingertips, the unexpected jolt that makes George inhale something of a sob. Blanks don’t have recoil; they don’t hurt the way Sapnap feels his chest tearing open. They don’t have the punch that Punz identifies, they don’t force your hands to tremble as Tommy lowers the empty weapon and stares at a corpse with a horrified expression.

There’s 5 fireworks, there’s 5 crossbows, and Dream dies on a Thursday.

#dsmp #dsmp fanfic #dsmp dream #dsmp fanart #dsmp punz #dsmp george #dsmp sapnap #dsmp badboyhalo #tw character death #tw death #firing squad #wow watch me hurt you #dsmp fanfiction #dream smp fanfiction

[thesunicarusfellfor]

hello!!can you do a part two of your Yandere!Tommy x Reader x Yandere!Tubbo Headcanons/Fic ?! i loved it!!

It amazes me how this became a fan favourite OVERNIGHT like daaaaamn!

This one is gonna be split into parts around the end, so like what happens if you choose Tubbo/Tommy/Neither/Both

(f/l) = first letter of your name

(N/n) = nickname

(f/f) = Favourite flowers

Eggpire does not exist

ALSO. The last Route (Neither) I wrote is shorter because apparently, Tumblr wants to crash after you surpass 10k words, but I could write a continuation fic of Neither that might turn into another x reader? Just platonic? Not sure. Remember, I will always write a continuation of a fic if ever asked.

TW: Yandere, Explosions, Burns, Scars, Manipulation, Mention of Painkillers and being drowsy on them, brief mention of collapsing

Part one

Yandere!Tommy x GN!Reader x Yandere!Tubbo Headcanon/Fic Part 2

Tommy was furious to see you spending time with anyone that wasn’t him.

But seeing you having an early morning coffee with Ranboo??? Tubbo’s husband???

He was about to light the damn house on fire he was so pissed! That’s not even exaggerating, he would’ve and had you live with him! Although he wouldn’t let you know he did it.

Poor Ranboo was trembling so bad, genuinely fearing for his canon lives.

You quickly got up and stood in Tommy’s sight, prevent him from glaring at your tall friend, although he still didn’t look happy.

Before anyone could say anything else, Tubbo stormed through the door with his sword in his hand and teeth violently grit together.

“So... You weren’t trying to throw me off by writing about going to see them in your memory book,” Tubbo growled softly at his husband causing Ranboo to desperately pull his memory book closer to his chest, tears brimming his eyes. You could understand why, his best friend went through his memory book without his knowledge and possibly went through his other things in an attempt to figure out what he was doing.

“I guess neither of you are loyal...” Tommy grumbled with a roll of his eyes, causing Tubbo to give him a hard jab in the ribs, “Ow! Bloody hell, mate! I’m just saying both of you are going for them without even breaking up first!”

“It’s platonic!” Both Tubbo and Ranboo stated although Ranboo’s voice came out as a tiny and meek protest, rather than Tubbo’s annoyed growl. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Ranboo put his crown back on his head, “I’m-I’m not interested in chasing them, so no... I was just talking to them...” He visibly shrank in on himself as the two boys glared darkly at him, “I... Should go...”

“Hold up.” You pointed at him, making the tall and lanky male stay seated in his spot while you turned back to Tubbo and Tommy, “I know why Ranboo is here. I know why he,” You pointed to Tommy, “Is here. He always kicks down my door early in the morning to do some crazy things. But why are you here?” Moving your finger to point at Tubbo, you noticed his look immediately softened upon you turning your attention towards him.

His cheeks became a light pink and his goat ears fluttered slightly as he put his sword away, “Am I not allowed to visit?” There. There was one of the mood switches and manipulation Ranboo warned you about. “Tommy invited me to L’Manberg, and I heard my beloved platonic husband was in the area as well. Plus Tommy left the door open.”

You blinked a bit, caught off guard by the fact that Tubbo completely brushed over the fact that he was here because he had read Ranboo’s memory book, “Oh, I see... Then shall we all go mining today? We’d be able to get a lot more ores than before!” You smiled, pretending that your two friends didn’t kick down your door and threaten the man who was just trying to protect you.

“With Tubbo and Ranboo?” Tommy growled out in disgust at the thought of you spending time with them, “But (Y/n)! We always go mining on Thursday mornings! It’s our thing. Between just US! Aka, not Tubbo and Ranboo...”

“I- uh, have a meeting with Techno and Phil later today, so I can’t go. Sorry, (Y/n)...” Ranboo murmured, although you could tell by the shakiness of his voice that he wanted nothing more than to run and hide in his panic room.

“I’d love to go!” Tubbo chirped softly, ignoring the audible noise of disgust and annoyance that Tommy made, “Let me just get my stuff from my enderchest.” He walked over to your enderchest and opened it. You didn’t mind too much as you gave everyone full permission to make themselves at home in your house, but you were just a bit shaken up at the moment.

Ranboo quickly got up and scurried out the door, giving you an odd look as he passed by. He looked... Guilty, but his smile was sad and soft, but seemingly affectionate. You knew he would help if these two were scaring you too much.

The two boys brought you to an unpopular mine in the DreamSMP that was filled to the brim with ores.

They were quick to take down any and all mobs that came within any sort of distance to you, recklessly charging without a second thought in attempts to protect you.

While there was intense amounts of fear and tension circling through your veins because of this morning, you did quickly grow to have fun with the banter between these two.

Even Tommy and Tubbo were having fun bickering, almost seeming to forget the fact that they were in a war with each other. Almost.

The constant fluttering of their hearts and warmth on their cheeks was an easy reminder of what they were fighting for.

Every single ore, gemstone and pretty rock that you looked at, the boys would immediately pick up and put in their bags so you didn’t have to carry it.

When Tommy began to whine about being hungry, you wanted to go back to the surface to eat the food you had packed, but they both thought that was too far.

So, you suggested sitting down in the abandoned mineshaft you had discovered.

“Ooh!” Tubbo squeaked, his ears wiggling as he turned the corner of the mineshaft, “There’s a ravine over here! Let’s eat by the light of the lava so we don’t waste all our torches!”

“Finally! I’m starving!” Tommy tossed his ore-filled bag off of his shoulder and set it against the wall. Once you spread out the thick blanket you had brought on the ground, he plopped himself down and set down his shield and sword, “What do you have for food today, Big/Little (F/l)?”

You hummed as Tubbo sat himself down on the other side of you with a yawn, likely not used to getting up early, “I have... Sandwiches, some fruit slices, berries, y’know, the usual. You tired, Tubbo?” Glancing over at the brunet, you saw him rubbing his eyes with the long sleeve of his brown and yellow striped sweater that you had made him when he first travelled to Snowchester.

“Little bit, yeah. Can I lay against you? Just for a little bit?” He asked softly as you handed Tommy a sandwich, which he practically inhaled in seconds. Once you gave a nod of approval, the smaller boy laid down and curled up with his head against your lap.

Tommy grumbled in annoyance and without thinking much, laid down as well with his head against your leg too. When you gave him a small questioning look as this was highly out character for him, but he simply just mumbled about how you were definitely more comfortable than the rocks.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, unconsciously playing with their hair as you glanced around the stone walls for any untouched ores, but by now both boys were asleep and you didn’t feel like waking them up. Taking your time, you began to consider your situation now that you knew both boys were smitten with you and practically willing to hurt anyone who came in contact with you.

Tubbo’s mood switches scared you, a lot, and you were worried that him being the nice and blushing boy you had met a few years ago was nothing but an act and that all the gifts were an attempt to lure you in or distract you from his violent tendencies. You had watched him walk into your house, eyes blank and filled with rage towards his platonic soulmate for talking to you without his knowledge, and you were worried that soon that rage would be directed at you for doing something he didn’t like.

Tommy’s violent tendencies were just as scary though, so he wasn’t in the clear in your eyes either. While he did shape up a lot from when you first met, he still had a tendency to bark insults at you and hurt your feelings, which you hope is unintentional. He also often tried to threaten people and keep them away from you, like Eret or Niki who got yelled at and a tad bit injured after they had given you gifts or offered to bring you somewhere cool... They didn’t really spend time with you anymore after that... You missed them and didn’t want the same thing to happen to Ranboo.

But, this couldn’t go on forever. You couldn’t just run... and you knew very well that rejecting either of the two would cause the other to lash out severely, to the point where the one you chose, you, and your friends were in major trouble. It’s not like you could choose both right? ...Right? Then again... Choosing both would potentially cause tension to stir up again between the two best friends.

Your train of thought was violently derailed when you heard a hard thud a few meters in front of you. With a small gasp, you looked up and saw a creature of varying different shades of green slowly looking around before a few more thuds followed behind it. Before you could even think of waking the two boys, the green creature began to run at you quickly with its four legs.

A creeper.

A terrified cry left your lips and suddenly the weight on your lap vanished. Now awake, Tommy immediately grabbed his shield and used it alongside his body weight to slam into the creeper backwards into a small horde of zombies that had dropped down with it. “Get up you dumbass! Are you tryin’ to die?!” The blond yelled at you as Tubbo, who had also sprung up at the sound of your fear, began firing arrows at the group of mobs.

Once you got over your shock, you grabbed your axe and shield before quickly jumping to your feet and charging into battle. The zombie you had chosen to fight gurgled and swiped and gnashed its teeth together at you as you used your shield to block its hits. Backing up a few steps, you slashed your axe at the undead mob and took out its bottom jaw with the black blade, gleaming with an enchantment that set the creature on fire. The smell of burning rotten flesh caused you to gag and scrunch up your nose before you used your shield to shove it into the pit of lava at the bottom of the ravine.

Laughing softly in triumph, you turn around to help Tubbo and Tommy, only to let out another gasp of shock as you saw the very creeper that had been shoved away earlier had now returned with a vengeance. And it was mere inches away from your face.

There wasn’t much you could do except barely raise your shield in time to block a good majority of the explosion from damaging your body, launching chunks of stone outwards and off the edge of the ravine. 

And you as well.

“(Y/n)!!!” Tubbo’s voice echoed through the stone cavern as you felt yourself get launched backwards before beginning to fall, gravity quickly beginning to grasp onto you and drag you down towards the lava below.

Reaching out, to grab onto anything that would stop you from falling, but to no avail. Your mind barely registered Tommy and Tubbo running towards you before you shut your eyes tightly, silently praying to whatever or whoever to save you.

Then you stopped dead in the air, something wrapped around your arms and hands.

Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes and looked up to see the human and a goat hybrid that had been laying with their heads in your lap just minutes ago, were now desperately grasping one arm each, preventing you from falling to the end of one of your canon lives. Both of their blue eyes were filled with tears that were dripping down their faces and hitting the molten rock at the bottom of the ravine as they struggled to pull you up.

Once you felt the solid ground below you, you finally managed to take a few breaths to calm yourself down as you felt tight arms wrap around you on either side, barely able to comprehend the sobs of terror from your savours. The dull burning and throbbing pain on your cheek were enough to bring you down to reality and carefully wrap your arms around the two wailing teens as they desperately clung to you, almost as if you were going to vanish right below their fingertips.

Tommy was the first to gather himself and pull himself away from your good shoulder and rub his eyes free of tears to look at the new injuries covering your body and your busted armour, “F-fuck... We’re gonna have to get you to Phil to get those burns patched up...” He sniffled, trying to act like he wasn’t just bawling his eyes out over you nearly losing a canon life. For once, he didn’t seem to mind Tubbo clinging onto you and wailing into your side as you pet his hair, trying to calm him down. 

Tubbo refused to let go of you for the next hour as you travelled out of the mine, his arms desperately wrapped around your waist/shoulders. (Depending on your height)

Tommy also held onto your non-burnt hand, that once held your shield, as he carried yours and his bag, leading you both back the way you came

If another mob came out to fight, it was almost a guarantee that one of them would run forward and the other would lightly push you into a corner, then proceed to block you from view via a shield and their body,

Even if you thought that you were in a decent enough condition to fight, the one shielding you would only look at you sadly and shake their head, saying something about the explosion burns along your (s/t) skin.

Once you had gotten out of the mine, it was around 6pm, and the sun was going down, but luckily Tommy had sent a message to Philza, his father, about the situation, so he was prepared and already at Tommy’s house, which was the closest to the mine.

It wasn’t a long walk, but god you were so exhausted..

It got to the point where Tommy and Tubbo were on either side of you, preventing you from collapsing before you got to the home.

Let’s just say, when they opened the door, Philza was already there and immediately panicked upon seeing the injuries covering the one side of you and the state of your armour. (No you were not wearing the god armour Tubbo gave you.)

One of your cheeks and lower jaw were burnt and bleeding, along with your dominant arm and leg that weren’t behind the shield when the explosion went off.

Tommy Route - Mellohi

Because your home still being near L’Manberg and the Prime Path (In this route), it was easier for Tommy to check up on you while you were healing from your injuries.

While you were bedridden, Tommy was a lot, a lot, quieter when he came into your house, never sure whether or not you were sleeping.

If you weren’t, he would eagerly show you something he found, tell you some drama he heard around the area, or tell you about his day. Or just play Mellohi on constant repeat.

If you were asleep, he would silently walk over and check on your bandages or potion supply, (updating Phil if you were low or bleeding from moving too much), or even sit beside you for a little bit to make sure you wouldn’t just stop breathing out of nowhere.

To say he was scared your entire recovery process would be an understatement.

He would rarely let anyone but Phil check on you, definitely nearly blowing his nerve when Ranboo or Tubbo would walk into your house.

If it was Ranboo, we would definitely get picked up and thrown,

If it was Tubbo, he would try and push him out because he knew that threats wouldn’t work on him.

In the situation that he did push Tubbo out, Tommy would immediately lock the door and stay in there for the next few days

For the more likely situation, because we all know how stubborn that goat is, and he wasn’t able to push Tubbo out, Tommy would subtly put a few drops of the sleeping potion Phil made you, into your drink.

When you began to doze off, Tommy would mention it to Tubbo in the most serious voice he could muster. It always worked, because Tubbo wanted what was best for your health.

The absolute minute that Philza deems you stable enough to get off of bed rest, Tommy is by your side in seconds and trying to encourage you to stand up.

When you do get the nerve to try and stand again, he would immediately be holding your good arm, preventing you from falling if your bad leg suddenly gave out.

In the case that you do collapse from your injuries, he would at first be extremely panicked, but then he’d start calling you insulting names and calling you an idiot.

He would bring you on walks all around the DreamSMP to get you used to walking again but would have no problems sitting down again.

That’s a lie.

He would complain a little bit, but if he saw you were genuinely in a lot of pain, he would just shut up and awkwardly ask what he could do.

If you needed anything for pain, he would straight up run to your home and get it, if they already didn’t have it.

The fact that you’re spending so much time with Tommy absolutely infuriates Tubbo, and he tries to guilt-trip you into spending more time with him.

But then Ranboo tells him that you can barely walk down the Prime Path without wanting to cry from the pain of the burns, and he offers to move back to L’Manberg. Or at least what’s left of it.

This sparks an argument between Ranboo and Tubbo almost immediately, but you’re much too tired to try and stop it, instead quietly asking Tommy if he can help go back to your home or to get them out so you could sleep.

He would be glad to.

Like he would do it, with an absolute goofy smile on his face because he basically gets your permission to have your attention all to himself!

When you’re all healed, your relationship between you and Tommy has practically tripled from what it was.

You’re much closer to him than he was to Tubbo, to the point where he has told you everything.

Even about his exile...

Because of your closeness to him, he somehow got even more protective but also calmed down his threats.

Like, now you could talk to Niki and Eret again, but you were not allowed to leave your house at night alone, especially after mobs have spawned.

Hell sometimes if he’s really paranoid, he’ll go to your house and spend the night just to make sure mobs don’t bang on your door or ruin anything.

He straight up took the time out of his life to fence the property around your house off and fill it with torches so things didn’t spawn in.

Sure he’ll call you slightly insulting names, but he makes sure that they wouldn’t be too painful for you before saying them aloud.

Tubbo still tries to be nice and manipulative, which Ranboo tries to stop, but it’s pretty much worthless at this point.

He’s lost.

He knows it, Ranboo knows it, and Tommy damn well brags about it.

Tubbo does end up crying to you quite a bit about it, but you can understand, he’s heartbroken at this point and can’t do anything about it. Tommy and you know about his manipulation tactics, he couldn’t take Tommy’s last life because it would show up on your communicator, and then you would never love him!

Unfortunately, this does cause him to lash out at Ranboo quite a lot which led to their third divorce. Although this one seems quite a bit more permanent, you never know. (Ranboo took Michael)

One evening, Tommy invited you out of the house oddly enough. Even though mobs would be spawning soon? It greatly confused you.

He even asked you to wear nicer clothing? Like a tux or a dress? Either one or both worked in his eyes.

Honestly, you weren’t sure how you were supposed to fight mobs in a fancy outfit, but you trusted him.

“Tommy?” You asked, opening the door as you smoothed out your clothing with your hands and adjusted your hair a tad bit to your liking. It was shocking to see the tall blond nicely cleaned up and wearing a suit, but it was quite a welcome sight!

He nervously adjusted his red tie before holding out a bouquet of perfect (f/f), and cleared his throat, “You... Uh... Clean up nice. I- uh... No- wait... What did Sam say again?” He murmured to himself, “Ah fuck it... You look nice, (Y/n).”

You chuckled as your cheeks flushed a light pink, happily taking the bouquet filled with your favourite flowers, “I’ll put these in a vase and then we can go where you wanna bring me.” With a smile, you quickly placed the flowers in a glass vase filled with water before going back out with Tommy.

“Sh-shall we? Is that a common phrase to say?” He asked as he held out his arm for you to link with his, a habit he picked up from walking you around while you were healing.

“I suppose we shall. Calm down Tommy, no need to be all fancy and stuff around me.” You chirped with a small smiled as you took his arm, linking it with his, “Now, are you going to tell me where we’re going? Or is this supposed to remain a mystery?”

Tomathy visibly relaxed once you told him he didn’t have to be all professional and fancy, beginning to lead you down the Prime Path, “It’s a secret! I worked hard on it too! So you better be grateful or I’ll kick your ass.” He jokingly threatened, smiling a bit as you laughed at his typical attitude.

He led you down the wooden path, the two of you joking the entire way with a goofy smile across your faces. Tommy then took a sudden turn onto a newly made pathway and lead you down it, never answering any questions about it the entire way, even when the buildings turned into a forest. The pathway was lined with fences, and the trees were filled with small hanging lanterns, not only preventing mobs from spawning but also creating a beautiful fairy forest effect.

Seeing your look of awe, he gave a small sheepish laugh, “You like it? Puffy and Sam helped me out with it for the past few days, but this was my idea! And this isn’t even the best part!” He grinned widely before quickly pulling you along again.

The walk wasn’t very long, but it was extremely beautiful. Eventually, he brought you up to a large hill with a massive oak tree where a beautiful picnic was set up, surrounded by lantern light. Even with the lanterns, you were still able to get a clear view of the starry sky above without a single cloud in sight! “Oh my god... Tommy... This is incredible...”

“Innit? Puffy helped me make all the food, but this was my idea. Unless you don’t like it. Then it was Puffy’s idea.” He joked in an attempt to hide his nervousness as he went to ruffle his hair, but then remembered that he had spent a few hours taming it down, so he decided against it.

“I love it! This is so beautiful!” You looked up at him with a bright and happy smile, making him return it with a soft smile of his own, “Come on, oh! There’s a jukebox!” You eagerly pulled him over to the blanket and sat down, taking a look at all the food that had been set out.

The tall male happily took a disc, Mellohi to be precise, out of the enderchest that had been set beside the jukebox, neatly placing it in and pressing the button to make the music play before he sat down beside you. The two of you began to eat the meal that he helped make, joking, laughing and smiling the entire time, having the time of your life. You leaned your head against his shoulder and smiled up at him as you gently held his hand, making him realize even more how important you were to him.

Mellohi, the same song he lost his friend to, was the same song he was listening to while gaining a new important person in his life. You.

The entire night went on with you two eventually falling asleep at the top of the hill, completely unaware of the brown-haired male leaning against a tree. He desperately grasped his shirt where his heart was as tears poured down his shirt.

Tubbo always liked Cat more than Mellohi...

=

Tubbo Route - Don’t Let Me Fall

Tubbo was so so glad that he had managed to convince (manipulate) you to live in Snowchester when he did. (In this route)

Somehow managed to convince you to live in the mansion, although it was probably done when you were drowsy on the pain killer potion Phil gave you.

This man would completely ignore his own country to make sure you were well taken care of. Like Ranboo literally had to step into power and start working on things and taking care of Michael.

Speaking of the baby zombie piglin, because you were now bedridden and bored out of your mind, Tubbo frequently brought the child in if Ranboo absolutely demanded that he take over for a bit.

The baby absolutely adored you! The injuries on your body reminded you of the ones he got when he travelled to the overworld, so he didn’t feel alone.

Unfortunately because of your constant pain and drowsiness, Tubbo thought it was best that he stayed in his room. Or maybe that was because he didn’t want him getting close to you too?

It was actually extremely rare for Tubbo to let anyone in to visit you. He actually even got incredibly annoyed when even Phil would come over to restock the potions for you or make sure your wounds were healing.

On a normal day, if you were awake, Tubbo would be blabbering on about some story without a care whether or not you were listening. He would most likely be acting the story out as if it were a play, determined to provide you with as much entertainment by himself as he could.

If you were sleeping, he would also be sleeping, although on a few chairs pushed together in your room. There’s a rare time where he will stay up and watch you to make sure you’re breathing still, but that’s only if he’s really scared and paranoid.

Tommy absolutely REFUSES to even look at Snowchester, so you never really got a chance to thank him for saving you. 

Although... Tubbo very actively tries to convince you that Tommy didn’t even come to help you when you had fallen and that you had been in shock so that’s why you didn’t remember correctly.

At first, you didn’t believe him, but eventually, with constant repetition, you slowly saw it as the truth. You genuinely began to believe that Tommy hadn’t pulled you up and that it was only Tubbo that did.

After quite a few weeks, Phil told Tubbo that you could finally get out of bed, but Tubbo asked him if he was 100% sure MANY times.

The goat hybrid actually didn’t want you to get out of bed and start walking again, worried that you get up would leave him, so he wasn’t going to tell you.

But Ranboo was the one who told you.

This led to quite a violent argument between Ranboo and Tubbo, but there was nothing Tubbo could do since you already knew the information he tried to keep from you.

Tubbo started ignoring you, so Ranboo was the one to try and get you used to walking around again, but this lead to the shorter male getting extremely jealous and helping you instead.

He frequently walks you around Snowchester on a strict set schedule, when he knows no one will be out and no mobs will be spawning.

One time, he didn’t expect Tommy to be walking around the snowy forests when he was walking with you, holding your hand to make sure you didn’t lose your balance. At least that’s what he told you.

Tommy looked... Empty, when he saw you both walking together. But his eyes darkened a bit when his blue eyes landed on your hands twinned together.

Tubbo looked a little hostile in your eyes, but he simply just gave Tommy a sharp smile before trying to pull you along as if he didn’t notice the tears beginning to pool in his ex-best friend’s eyes.

Tommy knew he lost right then and there, so he decided to say fuck it and start screaming degrading names at the two of you, catching you greatly off guard, hurting you badly enough to the point where your feelings were more than a little hurt.

When the founder of Snowchester realized that the blond hurt your feelings, he was quick to lash out back at the other man in your defence, but by then you were already walking away, back to the manor.

It took about ten minutes for him to realize that you went back to the mansion, but when he did, he sprinted through the door in an absolute panic before practically pouncing on you the second his eyes caught sight of you.

He protectively wrapped himself around you and whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you quietly rested your head against his shoulder.

After that, You and Tubbo became a lot closer emotionally. To the point where he called you his platonic wife jokingly, although you both knew he didn’t want to add platonic at the beginning.

He began to tell you about everything that weighed heavy on his shoulders, like his death from Technoblade’s fireworks, even to being threatened by Dream during the disc war.

When he noticed that you were genuinely beginning to care about him, his manipulation and jealousy actually began to calm down quite a lot.

You could actually spend time with Michael and Ranboo without anyone getting yelled at by Tubbo and causing him to get ridiculously jealous.

He began to take over his job as the founder of Snowchester, now actually trusting Ranboo to keep you company and even letting him take you outside during the day. But he refused to let you out during the night.

He’s just worried about mobs. Creepers especially.

Everything seems relatively like it was before that one day before Tommy and Tubbo completely lashed out at each other.

Tommy does often try and talk to you when Tubbo isn’t around, but both you and Ranboo try and put a stop to it as quickly as possible,

He’s lost.

He hurt you, and Ranboo couldn’t help but miss how Tubbo used to be, so if keeping Tommy away from you makes Tubbo act normal, he will damn well make sure that Tommy stays countries away from you.

This does cause Wilbur’s younger brother to break down a little bit, which you can genuinely understand, even if you hold a grudge against him for not saving you and yelling at you, you knew he did have feelings for you at one point even if he refused to admit it.

Unfortunately, this does cause quite a bit of pranks and explosions to stir up around Snowchester and the L’Manberg crater, but they stop within a few weeks. Tommy probably got scolded by either Sam, Phil or Puffy,

One morning, Tubbo invited you to spend a day outside of the mansion with him after a heavy snowfall.

He spent almost all morning outside, doing something he refused to tell you about, and when he came in to wake you up, his face was already cherry red from the cold.

How could he even want to go back into the freezing cold without any sort of warm drink or even sitting in front of the fire for a bit!?

“How are you so... Full of energy?” You murmured from behind the bathroom door as you got changed into your warmer clothing for when you do go outside. The door was cracked open a small bit so you could hear Tubbo rambling on and on about how he had a great surprise for you.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” He was obviously grinning with excitement. When you walked out of the bathroom in your thick clothing and jacket, he bounced up from his spot on the edge of your bed, “Finally! Let’s go! Hurry, before it snows or gets warmer.”

You only nodded curiously and he grabbed your hand, eagerly pulling you out of your room and down the large stairs that lead towards the door. He pushed the large doors open with a bit of difficulty due to the snow piled up, but with your help, you both managed to slip out the door. Tubbo happily grabbed your hand again and began leading you down towards the docks where the water was covered with a thick sheet of ice, “Oh it must’ve got really cold last night... What are you showing me?”

“Over here!” He pulled you over to a large half-sphere made out of snow. He led you over to a hole in the side of it before dropping down to his knees and crawling through the entrance, “Come on!”

Blinking in surprise, you hesitantly followed him inside of the handmade snow building and gave a small gasp of glee as you saw that it was an igloo! The inside had a few blankets on the ground, preventing you from sitting on the icy snow-covered ground, there were a few lanterns placed on small snow hills preventing the small room from being dark, plus there was a small basket of what looked like two thermoses and a bit of food, “Tubbo! Did you build this?”

“I did! I also spent last night building it too!” He grinned widely, his ears wiggling with glee, “But this isn’t even the best part! Check over here!” The brunet shuffled over to another basket before pulling out a pair of white boots with silver blades bolted to the bottoms.

“Ice skates?” You tilted your head a bit as you crawled over and pulled out the pair that looked to be your size, “But I can’t skate...”/”How did you even know I could skate?”

Tubbo only turned his happy grin towards you, “I’ll show you how! Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall!”/”You briefly mentioned that you missed skating once or twice when you were all dopey on painkillers a few months ago!” He pulled out his pair of skates and began to take off his boots. (After getting his skates on he helped you with yours if you didn’t know how to lace them up.)

Once your new footwear was all tied up, he helped you up and carefully lead you outside with his arms tightly wrapped around you to help you keep your balance. (Even if you did know how to skate, he was still worried about you falling.) Tubbo carefully led you towards the ice and helped you stand up straight on the frozen water, making sure that you wouldn’t fall.

“See?” He smiled softly and held your hands tightly as he began to skate backwards, pulling you along with him until you slowly got a hold of what you were doing. “You (still) got it!”

You two slid and slipped around on the ice, laughing, smiling and spinning around with the other, but suddenly out of nowhere, your blade got caught in a groove of the ice that likely got chipped out when you two were skating around. With a small cry, you felt your legs slip out from under you and you immediately shut your eyes, awaiting the inevitable impact as a result of gravity.

Thankfully, two arms wrapped around your frame before you hit the ground. You slowly cracked open your eyes and saw your best friend holding you tightly against him. Your (e/c) eyes stared into his blue ones for a few moments before your face broke into a smile. “You caught me...”

“I would never let you fall...”

There two of you continued to skate around, having fun in the other's presence, completely unaware of the blond hidden behind a snowbank with his hand clasped tightly over his mouth and tears beginning to freeze to his reddened cheeks.

Tommy often found himself wishing he had let you fall...

=

Tommy & Tubbo Route - Rhythm of the Storm

Because your original housing was set between Snowchester and the Prime Path, it was surprisingly an equal distance between Tubbo’s mansion and Tommy’s house.

In the beginning, Tommy would go to your house first in the mornings, then leave around noon when Tubbo would come, but the constant social interaction left you always sleeping through either one of their visits.

It got to the point where you asked both of them to come by at the same time so you could talk with them both at the same time.

This caught them both off guard that you wanted both of their attention at the same time, but then only began to see benefits from them meeting with you together.

Now you weren’t out cold during the mornings when Tommy opened the door, and now you weren’t asleep by 2pm when Tubbo was over. Plus they could both take care of you at the same time!

There were a few times when either of the boys’ yandere tendencies peaked out, but you or the other would scold them out of it. Or Tommy would give Tubbo a small smack upside the head which would make him scream dramatically like a baby goat.

While they did take your injuries relatively seriously, they also were joking with you and cheered you up with their antics, preventing you from falling into a depression from staying inside all day and every day.

On a normal day, if you were awake and had more energy than normal, Tommy would be telling you incredible stories of his travels and Tubbo would be either making food or potions. Tommy isn’t allowed near the brewing stands or the stove anymore if you’re wondering.

On a bad day, if you barely had any energy and could barely stay awake, the two boys would be much quieter and let you sleep. On those days, they would ask Phil if you were actually okay, or they would go back to their respective homes.

If your burns are causing you immense amounts of pain one day, Tommy will refuse to even be in the same room as you and will genuinely beg Tubbo, Ranboo or Philza to stop your pain. Even if he doesn’t like others being around you, he’s beginning to accept Tubbo’s care towards you but he’s still wary about his father and Tubbo’s husband.

Speaking of, Ranboo and Michael had seemingly disappeared from Snowchester, but Phil assured you that they were both in the Tundra, (And to keep it a secret from Tubbo.)

On Phil’s latest visit, he told you that you could get up and out of bed without irritating the burns on your legs, although you might have trouble at first.

Upon hearing the news, Tubbo and Tommy were at your sides in seconds, asking if you wanted to get up and encouraging you to try. If you didn’t want to, they (mostly Tubbo) would understand about it and leave you to sit on the fact for a bit.

If you did, Tubbo would be at your injured side to make sure your bandages stayed together when you got up, while Tommy would be on your good side and mostly holding you up if your balance was bad enough.

Tubbo wanted to help you walk around at night, just in case you were self-conscious of your burns, but Tommy was too worried about any sort of mob approaching you. While they knew they could protect you, they just didn’t want to take any risks.

Tubbo will burst out crying after he hears an explosion, meanwhile, Tommy will freeze completely still. Which is also what happened during the mining incident that caused you to get injured, which is why Tubbo was the one to scream and continue to cry long after they had saved you.

Because of this, they don’t want to face a creeper with you around to see them panic and be in danger while they struggled to get themselves together.

When you’re out walking around, Tubbo is extremely patient and Tommy at least tries to hold his complaints. 

If someone even looks at you wrong, they’ll have an angry raccoon boy yelling threats at them and Tubbo drawing his sword. They usually run with their tails between their legs afterwards.

If you collapsed on the walk from the pain, the amount of panic that would happen would be enough to have every single parental figure in the SMP running to help you. Luckily when it did happen, Badboyhalo was there and was strong enough to carry you without irritating your burns, and even gave a few pointers on how to help with burns. He had to raise Sapnap. He would know.

When you woke up at your home, you saw Tubbo and Tommy actually having a civil conversation with the large 9ft demon rather than threatening him to get away from you. That could've been because he was a demon though. But you were still proud!

You guessed that they still thought you were asleep when Bad left because you heard them murmuring and trying to keep quiet as they most likely made lunch.

Because of their conversation with Bad, and proving to you that they can actually behave themselves, you began to realize that their Yandere tendencies were calming down a lot. Meaning you weren't scared of them that much anymore, and you were beginning to accept their feelings towards you.

Unfortunately... You couldn't pick between them... And didn't know how open they would be to polyamory, but seeing as they weren't ripping each other's throats out, maybe their reactions wouldn't be too terrible?

Tubbo began to tell you about everything that bothered him, currently and formerly, like his death from Technoblade’s fireworks, even to being threatened by Dream during the disc war, or the nukes disappearing and his worry about whether or not Tommy cares about him.

Tommy also began to open up as well. Telling you about his brothers and father, his exile, his fear that Tubbo doesn't care about him anymore, and his third canon death.

After the two began to open up more, you began to realize they weren't being as clingy and desperate for your attention, most likely now trusting you to spend time with people other than them.

Maybe because they were catching on to you slowly beginning to return their feelings...

Everything seems relatively like it was before that one day before Tommy and Tubbo completely lashed out at each other.

A few weeks after your body became completely healed, the two boys spent a few days away from you, which you were curious about but never really commented on it.

One day when they both arrived at your house at their usual time, they were dressed up for an adventure and their bags were filled with everything that anyone would need.

They eagerly pulled you out of bed at some ungodly hour in the morning, although Tubbo thankfully had breakfast (and coffee) ready which you ate before going to get dressed into appropriate clothing and your god armour that Tubbo made, that was equipped with a new god sword that Tommy made you!

This was your first adventure since the explosion in the mine, and you damn well wanted to have fun.

"Okay, okay! Damn, Big Man, calm down!" You groaned as you threw the bag over your shoulders and tightened the straps accordingly. Once you tied up the laces on your boots, you straightened up and without fail, you felt both of your hands being grabbed before you got dragged out the door.

"We've been planning this for a few days! Nothing will stop us now!" Tubbo cheered, hopping along beside you as he held your scarred hand, "We have everything we could ever need for the next week!"

Your surprised reaction was ignored as Tommy continued dragging you down the Prime Path with a map in his free hand, "A whole week? That's quite a long adventure! Are you sure we'll be able to handle it?"

"Relax (N/n)! We were both raised by Philza Minecraft! Y'know, Survivalist extraordinaire? We know how to ration, build a shelter if needed, and everything in between!" Tubbo gave you a wide and cheesy grin as he spoke about the man who raised him, despite not actually being related to him. (Dadschlatt AU if you're wondering)

The three of you ventured off through many acres of forests and other biomes, holding hands and chatting away the entire time. Tommy let it slip that you were going to find buried treasure and maybe a woodland mansion if you were feeling brave enough, which is why he was always holding the map.

"Tommy, (Y/n)! Look!" Tubbo squeaked out happily as he saw a field of dozens of different flowers with bees hurriedly buzzing about to pollinate the plants around. The sight of the yellow and black bugs caused Tubbo to make happy little bleating sounds as his ears wiggled.

You and Tommy exchanged glances with a small smile, knowing very well you wouldn't be able to pull the hybrid away from them. "I suppose it is about time for a break..." You murmured as you were dragged off by the smaller brunet, thus pulling Tommy along as well.

The three of you sat down in the flower field, placing out a blanket to prevent yourselves from getting covered in dirt, despite knowing that it'll happen anyway. You set out the food Tubbo had packed while the two teenage boys ran around, having fun and, well just being teenagers.

Yes, Tommy got chased by bees.

Tubbo made you, himself and Tommy a flower crown, which you proudly wore, but Tommy was a bit more hesitant which you eventually made him get over by giving him a begging look. Yours was a bunch of (f/f) varying with colours, Tubbo's was a variety of yellows and white flowers, while Tommy's was mostly red and white.

While you three enjoyed your small picnic, you were all completely unaware of the fleeting bees, closing flowers and scattering animals. It was only when Tubbo's ears began to flick oddly did he lift his head, "I think there's a storm quickly approaching..."

You lifted your head and rose your arm to block the sun from your eyes to look at the quickly darkening clouds, "Oh damn, yeah we gotta go find shelter. Like now." You hurriedly grabbed your bag and began shoving the foot containers in it while Tommy and Tubbo packed everything else up too.

Despite your best efforts, you three quickly got caught in the downpour of rain and became absolutely drenched in rain by the time you found a small and shallow cave to hide in. "Aw fuck... Absolutely perfect! Sam said it wasn't gonna rain todaaaaay!" Tommy whined dramatically as he slumped against the stone wall.

You sighed and began pulling out the blanket again, knowing very well that you'd all be here for a while. When Tommy stopped whining about how he thought it was gonna be perfect weather, he helped Tubbo with starting a fire so you could all dry your sweaters that you had been wearing.

The two boys plopped down on the blanket on either side of you, Tommy hiding his head on your shoulder while Tubbo was curled up with his head against your lap, (After asking for permission of course) trying their best to drown out the sound of the sounds of the booming thunder.

After a few moments, you used the consistent pattern in the rain to keep beat before beginning to hum a soft tune while you ran your fingers through their damp hair.

Slowly, Tommy and Tubbo fell asleep, leaning against you while you hummed along to the rhythm of the storm...

=

Neither Route - Left the Game

Your house was quite out of the way from the Prime Path and Snowchester, in fact, quite possibly even closer to the Tundra. (In this route.)

Meaning that you were pretty far out of the way from everyone except for Ranboo, Phil and Techno. Which prevented both Tubbo and Tommy from coming around often, meaning Ranboo and Phil had to help you with a lot.

You felt bad because you didn't know either of them too, too well, but at least you knew you would definitely be getting better.

Ranboo actually had no problem helping you with your injuries, although he had to carefully write down what he gave you and when.

During your road to recovery, Ranboo and Tubbo's relationship became incredibly worse as the goat hybrid became even more manipulative and violent.

You became a personal therapist and babysitter for him and Michael, in return for him helping take care of you.

Speaking of Michael, the reason Ranboo hadn't joined you on the mining trip was because Phil had finished making a potion that would allow Michael to survive in the Tundra.

Tubbo and Tommy's violent habits had quickly doubled over the time when they couldn't see you, but luckily for you, the one time they did try to visit, Techno had come with Phil to meet you.

They ran out immediately.

Yes, Techno asked you about how you felt about anarchy.

Whether or not you joined the Syndicate is up to you.

Ranboo then told Techno and Phil about how Tubbo and Tommy were obsessed with you, and that your life was possibly in danger.

Technoblade only said that he had no way to help you, but Philza's fatherly instincts kicked in and he wanted to protect you both from the two boys he raised.

Once you got all healed up your burns scarred over, Phil and Ranboo already had an idea of how to keep you both and Michael safe.

It was highly risky and would leave you with only one life until you come back to the DreamSMP.

Phil was going to give you access to his Hardcore server.

Both you and Ranboo had a long and serious talk about it, but then remembered he was literally rich. He had dozens of totems!

Techno made you three totem pendants for you to wear around your necks, so you wouldn't always have to hold the totems.

(Philza asked his wife, Kristen the Goddess of Void and Death, to keep an extra close eye on you three and make sure if any of you do die, it's incredibly quick and painless.)

Standing in front of Phil, your bags filled with everything you would need to survive in the hardcore world, you watched as the centuries-old avian scanned you three up and down.

"I'll ask you both one final time." He sighed after he deemed all of your equipment and armour worthy. The blond fatherly figure stood in front of you and Ranboo as you held Michael with a glowing green orb in his hand, "Are you sure? There are no respawns when you run out of totems."

"Yes. It'll be much safer than the DreamSMP..." Ranboo murmured quietly, quickly scrawling as much as he could fit into his memory book before he forgot anything, "Even if it isn't permanent... We just need to run."

When Phil turned to you, you couldn't help but take a deep breath, "Yeah," You murmured, shifting the young piglin child on your hip, "I'm sure. Thanks again Philza... We really needed to be somewhere where they wouldn't find us..."

"I'll check up on you both once a week. Remember, travelling through servers will disorient you for quite a while and you quite probably won't understand where you are at first-"

"(Y/n)!!!" An angry yell came from the forest, and you turned your head just in time to see Tommy and Tubbo running in your direction.

You and Ranboo hurriedly whipped your head to face Phil again, but he seemed to have caught on before you both as there was a portal swirling with greens and golds beside him, "Go! Now! I'll see you both tomorrow! Remember, you can take anything you need to increase the chances of your survival!"

Ranboo got over his shock much quicker than you did because he grabbed your arm and leapt through the portal, bringing you and Michael along.

Ranboo Beloved left the game.

(Y/n) (L/n) left the game.

Michael Underscore-Beloved left the game.

#tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #dream smp x reader #yandere tommyinnit #yandere tommyinnit x reader #yandere tubbo x reader #yandere tubbo #ranboo #ranboolive #dsmp #tommyinnit dreamsmp #tubbo dreamsmp #ranboo dream smp #tommyinnit dream smp #tubbo dream smp #c!tommyinnit #c!tommy #c!tubbo #c!ranboo

[cohesively]

more c!tubbo hcs

- hes a hybrid ibex goat wc means hes a cracked rock climber. he just scales that shit like hes going on a sunday morning walk. the citizens of snowchester see traipsing him on a cliff face ? thats just thursday afternoons baby

- tommy: why the hell do u need all these muscles for you are a hermit in a gay seaside village

- once ranboo finds out that tubbo freezes when shocked/scared, he always hangs around him just in case tubbo needs to be caught before he hits the ground. it’s funny but also very serious. head injuries aren’t a laughing matter

- tommy thinks otherwise. scaring the living daylights out of tubbo is his favourite thing

- despite this, tubbo has not trained himself to learn how to not be shocked/scared easily

- citizens of snowchester see ex-president underscores husband lugging him around like a basket of potatoes at odd hours of the day ? ah, young love

#thats all i got for u lot this early early morning #mwah have a great day u all :Dc #tubbo #mcyt #dsmp #rp #ranboo

[onecanonlife]

Wilbur returns to life on a warm Thursday morning. Somehow, this almost comes secondary to the fact that he seems to have picked up a new skill.

(Or: Wilbur comes back, immediately discovers that he can shapeshift now, for some reason, and goes to tell Phil about it. Phil, meanwhile, is just trying to roll with the punches, and Wilbur's hardly making it easy.)

(word count: 5,300)

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

He blinks, and there is light in his eyes, and his body feels completely, utterly wrong.

He spends a moment trying to dissect this, to pick apart the sensation and put it into neat little boxes, searching for a reason, and he gets about as far as thinking, oh, I have a physical body before that effort falls apart. Because the thought itself, oh, I have a physical body, is new. Very, very new. And he sort of remembers getting on a train, remembers meeting the tear-filled gaze of the ghost-him for a brief second, remembers seeing Dream in the conductor’s booth, remembers the vibration of the metal under his feet as the train began to move, but—

Was that real? He didn’t think that was real, at the time.

He takes a staggering step, and then another, wincing at the impact of his feet on the ground. Gravity. Odd. He blinks again, but his surroundings stay constant. A memorial of lapis. The L’Manberg flag, his flag. There is a chest, too, and he opens it on autopilot, skimming the note left within with eyes that barely seem to work. The letters swim, but he gets the gist of it. Quackity. Very interesting. He’s got no fucking clue what it means, but it’s interesting.

He feels numb. Heavy. He’s not sure he understands what’s happening. But he closes the chest. Lurches to the side a bit, his motions uncoordinated and clumsy, and this has to be a hallucination. This has to be a hallucination, an invention of his desperate, isolated mind. Admittedly, it’s more convincing than previous hallucinations, but it’s been so very long. So, so very long, and this cannot be real.

He brings his hand up to his face and flexes his fingers. And then does it again, fascinated with the way his tendons move under his skin. And then, he flinches, struck suddenly with that same sensation of wrongness, with the feeling that there are more than tendons resting there, more than muscle, more than bone, something else, something other. Something—

New.

Then: voices. Distant, but approaching. He cocks his head, then smacks the side of it a few times, as if to dislodge water from his ears. Slowly, the voices become more clear. Tommy’s is predominant among them, and he sounds upset. That is not new, then, even if it has been years. Wilbur thinks that maybe, he should go to greet him, but he still feels so numb, so wrong, so he ends up just standing there instead. And there are other voices: Tubbo, he’s pretty sure, and another that is less familiar.

Does he want to see them? He thinks so, even if they’re not real. And if they are, all the better; he hasn’t been able to talk to anyone since Tommy came to visit. He’d love to talk to someone. He’s love to look into someone’s eyes and see that they’re hearing him, that they’re listening to him, that they know he’s here and they’re acknowledging him, grounding him. He wants that. It’s been so long. But the voices are getting closer, and with them, another thought: if this is real, perhaps they will not be happy to see him. If this is real, and he hasn’t decided whether it is yet or not, but if it is, and they aren’t happy to see him—which they might very well not be, considering how he left things—then they might try to kill him.

He thought he wanted to die, once. He did want to die, once. He won’t make that mistake again.

He can’t die. Not when he knows that even hell on earth is preferable to the hell that awaits.

He can’t get away, though; the voices are ever so close. So he’s going to have to accept whatever happens, even if there’s a sudden buzzing sensation rushing through him, a tingling that dispels some of the numbness, and it’s new, new and overwhelming, and he feels like he needs to sit down, or jump up and down, or run for miles and miles, or something. But his limbs won’t cooperate with him enough to do any of that, and then there is a sudden wave of wrongness, dizzying and overpowering, and—

He changes.

It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt at all. But it feels very strange, because he can feel in acute detail the way that his body is shifting with him inside of it, the way his bones change position and shape, his organs rearranging, his skin moving and sprouting, somehow. It doesn’t hurt, but he can feel it, and a quiet gasp escapes him—his first sound—before he doesn’t have a mouth to gasp with at all.

Instinct overtakes him—what instinct?—and he beats his arms—no—what? But he’s in the air, and—then not, then perching on the monument, higher up, with his fingers—no, toes—why are they sharp, what—?

There is a sound of shattering stone, and then Tommy is there, pickaxe in one hand, apparently having decided to break his way through the mountain rather than bother going around. Tubbo flanks him on ones side, another person on the other, and in his other hand, he holds a lead that attaches to a blue sheep. Which, alright. He didn’t think Tommy was a sheep person, but alright.

He tries to shift position, and wow, that’s strange, because no part of him moves like he’s used to—

“He’s—not here,” Tommy says, voice disbelieving. “He’s supposed to be here, right?”

“I mean, probably?” Tubbo says. “You know how this works better than we do.”

“No, he’s definitely supposed to be here,” Tommy says. He steps forward. “If it’s anything like—no, he’s supposed to be here. You don’t think—would he have time to get anywhere else? He wouldn’t, would he?”

“So maybe it didn’t work after all,” Tubbo says. “Maybe Dream did it wrong or something. And Ghostbur can’t really be killed, since he’s already dead and all, so I bet he’ll respawn in a bit.”

The other one, the one that Wilbur doesn’t recognize—only, he does, doesn’t he? From his hallucinations, those flashes he got, spaced out throughout weeks and months, from the point of view of that ghost version of him that Phil sent his way years and years ago. Hallucinations, or maybe memories, or maybe this is a hallucination too, and he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. But the other one walks around a bit, looks at things, and then looks right up at him.

“I think this might be one of Phil’s,” he says, and then, to him, “I don’t suppose you saw anything?”

Wilbur’s not sure how to respond to that.

“Wouldn’t talk even if it did, now would it?” Tommy grumbles. “C’mon, we’ve got to—we’ve got to look around some. Maybe he came back and went for a jog. He—” He breaks off, shuddering violently. “This is so very fucked. This is so—just, come on.”

And Tommy walks off, still tugging that sheep along behind him, and the other two follow him, off of this platform and onto a large sheet of—glass? He watches their progress, noticing the desolation for the first time, and the realization hits him that these ruins, these ruins are L’Manberg, holy fuck—

He tries to say something to that affect, but it comes out as a loud croak. It doesn’t matter, though—did he do this? He didn’t think he laid quite enough TNT to do this. But perhaps he did. Perhaps he did, and perhaps they didn’t bother to rebuild, just let his symphony finish the way that he wanted it to, and that doesn’t quite line up with the Ghostbur-visions, but who’s to say any of those were real? The destruction is laid out before him, plain as day.

He wants to see it closer.

So he takes stock. The numbness has all but faded now, leaving him feeling overstimulated, if anything, all of these sensations so very foreign. It’s amazing what he’s forgotten, after thirteen and a half years. And it also doesn’t help much that he seems to be a—

Well. He’s pretty sure he’s a bird. He’s not sure why he’s a bird, but he twists his head around to look at himself, and he’s got feathers, and wings, and his vision is weird, too, like his eyes are on opposite sides of his head instead of looking forward, which makes sense if he’s a bird. He tries to move what should be his arms, and the wings move. He tries to tighten his grip on the monument, and the claws tighten. He’s a bird. For some reason.

He couldn’t do that before. But alright.

He raises his wings, hesitant. But what comes next seems to be instinctive; he beats them, again and again and again, and then he’s in the air. He’s flying. He’s flying.

Is this what Phil feels like? Wild, free, like his body can’t contain him and there’s nothing to hold him down?

Oh, gods. There is wind in his face and under his wings, beautiful, fresh air, and the glass gleams underneath him as he soars above, and it’s dizzying and terrifying and his heart is beating up a storm, his heart is beating, and he’s alive, it is all hitting him now and he is alive, and—

The sun is rising.

He glides to a stop, perching on a bit of stone, and the movement comes easily, naturally, like he was born to it. And he stares into the sun, at the way the sky lights up all orange and pink, and it is the most gorgeous thing he has ever seen, and his body changes again. The same strange, unsettling, painless sensation, and he has human hands again, stretched out in front of him, reaching for the light.

The sun is rising, and it’s like it’s just for him. He drinks it in greedily. He forgot, he thinks. He forgot what this felt like, this warmth on his skin. He forgot what beauty was, too. Because this is beauty. This must be beauty. The sun is rising, and it is his, his sunrise, the day coming up to greet him, him and his new lease on life.

He laughs. The sound is surprisingly loud, but it is also human. He laughs again, and his vision blurs, and he keeps holding his hands out in front of him as though he can catch the sun’s rays, can catch them and hold them and keep them for himself so he will never be alone, abandoned in darkness again. The sun is for him, and the world is for him, and he can do what he wants now because his heart beats in his chest and the sun, the sun—

Where does he go now? To Tommy, perhaps. Tommy is looking for him. But Tommy is also angry, it seems, and while it is always fun to needle an angry Tommy, Tommy currently has weapons and armor and he very much does not. So perhaps going to Tommy right now would not be wise. Not just yet. He’s not sure where else he’s supposed to go, though—he doesn’t have a home, it would appear. He succeeded in that much.

Pogtopia? No, if he never has to see that ravine again, he’ll be more than satisfied. And the prospect of going underground at all turns his stomach. He wants to stay up here, with the sun and the sky. He wants to memorize this feeling. He wants it to never go away.

Where else is there, though? Quackity left a note, so perhaps Quackity might welcome him. But he doesn’t know where this Las Nevadas place is, and if he strains, tries to remember what the ghost-him did, he doesn’t think that the ghost-him knew either. But Ghostbur has other memories, other places to sift through, and frankly, these memories, visions, whatever, seem very incomplete, but—

Snow is prominent. Snow, and—a house? Phil! Phil stayed on the server, is here, and Phil—well. Phil probably won’t kill him again. Not if he doesn’t ask. And he’s also pretty sure that they’re on even footing, that he hasn’t wronged Phil in any way, so that would probably be best, going to him. He can go to Phil, rest up a bit, get the lay of the land, and then, maybe, he can go see other people, too.

He’s got time for that. He has time.

It’s a fair distance by foot, though, if he’s remembering even remotely correctly. So he takes in a deep breath, the novelty of it still not worn off, and he pokes at the wrongness that has settled within him. He’s starting to realize that it’s not wrongness, not quite, but rather something that’s just different, something that he’s not used to just yet. A possibility, ready for the taking. He pushes at it, and the change comes over him, and he acclimates quickly this time.

A few beats of his wings, and he’s soaring in the sky. He opens his mouth—his beak—and lets out a loud caw, and he hopes that the whole server can hear him.

***

It takes most of the day to find his way to where Phil lives. He keeps getting turned around, the server and his vision both different from what he remembers. And he keeps getting tired, too, keeps having to stop for breaks, perching in a tree or on a building while he waits for his strength to return enough to press on. Yet another thing he’d forgotten about, having to rest his body or else let it give out.

He thinks that the old Wilbur might have let it give out, actually. But he’s a changed man, now, a new man. He’s going to take better care of himself, at least.

He makes it, eventually, to the little snowy enclave that is fuzzily familiar, the quaint little cottages, signs of a humble but well-organized life. So, Phil has his shit together, then. That’s nice to see. Very nice to see. He’s glad, even if it’s a bit weird to find out that Phil’s life has gone on in his absence. But the windows are open, and he swoops down toward one, intending to glide inside and then go from there. Instead, he hits something solid at top speed, and for a moment, sees stars.

He reorients himself. The window is open, so why—

“—just a moment,” he hears someone say, and it’s Phil’s voice, very muffled. Then, the window slides open—and oh, that was glass, that makes so much more sense—and then there are hands around him, lifting him, and he goes very, very still.

Because. Oh. Hands. Touching.

When was the last time he was touched? He doesn’t—

He doesn’t remember. But there are hands. Touching him. And he thinks he would like that to never, ever stop, thank you.

He lets out a sound halfway between a squawk and a chirp, maybe. And then the hands are setting him down, and no, no, no, that’s not what he wanted at all—

He blinks. Adjusts to the new space. He’s been placed on a desk, his claws hooking around its edge automatically. Phil is standing right there, looking at him with a familiar exasperation, and for a moment, he thinks he’s been recognized right away. But, no, because then Phil turns away, muttering something like, “Fucking birds,” and he’s looking to the other person in the room, who happens to be that other person from earlier, the one he doesn’t know.

Or, wait. No, he remembers. This is Ranboo. He remembers fuck-all else, but this is definitely Ranboo. That’s his name. Interesting. He’s heard of him, he’s pretty sure. About him. Maybe he’ll remember what he’s heard, given time. Time which he has. He’s not over that yet. He’s not sure that he ever will be. He sort of hopes not.

“Sorry, mate,” Phil says, and he refocuses. Phil sounds kind of tired, actually. “What were you saying?”

“No, you’re good, you’re good,” Ranboo replies. “No, that was pretty much it. Um, we looked all day and we still didn’t find any sign of him, so we think that maybe it didn’t work? But Ghostbur also hasn’t turned up, so we really just, um, we really just don’t know? And I’m not trying to get your hopes up or anything, but I really thought you should know that, um. That something might be going on, at least, you know? Just so you know.”

“Right,” Phil says, and Wilbur has absolutely no idea what emotion that’s supposed to be. “Well, thanks for telling me, Ranboo. You’ll let me know if you figure it out?”

“Of course, of course,” Ranboo says, nodding rapidly. “Um, yeah. Sorry to drop this on you like this, but have a good one, Phil.” And then he’s retreating out the door, waving kind of awkwardly, and Phil chuckles a bit and waves back. And then the door closes, and every part of Phil seems to sag. Like he’s melting, or something, and now he’s lost the energy to keep himself together. He pulls out the chair at the desk and all but collapses into it, hiding his face in his hands.

Wilbur cocks his head, and shifts closer. Phil’s not wearing his hat, and his hair is loose and long. Very tempting. So he snatches a few strands in his beak and tugs on them, just a little. It’s satisfying.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do with this,” Phil says into his hands. “I can’t let myself hope for it, can I? I’ve been let down before.” He sighs, and turns his face to look at Wilbur. “What do you think, chat? I’m surprised there aren’t more of you here right now, actually. Did you see anything?”

Wilbur blinks at him.

Phil sighs again.

“Ranboo’s a good kid,” he murmurs. “But he’s prone to misinterpreting things. I’m glad he told me, but—” He shakes his head. “I can’t let myself believe it. Not when nobody’s seen him. I can’t be let down again.”

Oh. Huh. The way he’s talking, it sounds like Phil really wants him back. That’s—interesting. And nice, he thinks. Nice to be wanted, even if it’s probably, statistically speaking, a very bad idea to do that. To want him. Nobody ought to want a villain. That’s part of why he’d decided to die; he knew very well that no one wanted him around anymore, that they would all cheer for his death. They all want you to, Phil!

But Phil’s not always rational about those sorts of things.

Phil leans back in his chair, eyes tracing the ceiling, and then returns his gaze to him.

“You seemed pretty insistent earlier,” he says. “Not often that you lot forget about the windows. Did you have something to—” And then, his face changes, scrunches up and then widens in alarm, and Wilbur doesn’t know why. “Shit, mate, let me see that wing.”

His wing? There’s nothing wrong with his wing. But Phil reaches forward, and yes, he rather likes the idea of more contact, so he lets Phil stroke his feathers a bit, which feels absolutely brilliant, but Phil still looks concerned. So he cranes his neck around, trying to see what has Phil all worked up, and sees for the first time that his whole wing is covered in blood, which seems, on a more thorough inspection, to be originating from a wide gash near his shoulder blade. He has no idea how that got there.

But on a second thought, perhaps one of the sensations that’s been overwhelming him has been pain. Strange. He hasn’t really been differentiating things like that, but now that he’s aware that he’s supposed to be feeling it, he recognizes the sting, a bite almost down to the bone.

He can’t say he minds it. He felt no pain in the station. He could do whatever he wanted to himself without feeling a thing. So it’s just another reminder that he’s alive, that this is real, and he embraces it wholeheartedly. But Phil stands and goes digging through a chest, muttering about bandages, and he’s intent on fixing him up, isn’t he? Wilbur watches him for a second, an unexpected burst of fondness in his chest. Because of course Phil would worry about something so simple and stupid as an injured bird. Of course. Even after all the years he’s lived, all the things he’s done, there is some part of Phil that strives desperately to be softhearted.

It’s weakness, perhaps. But right now, Wilbur can’t work up any derision.

So he watches Phil, and then considers. He came here to see Phil. He’s not going to stay a bird the whole time. That would defeat the purpose. So he probably shouldn’t let Phil bandage the wing. Not as a wing. So he draws on the new thing inside of him, and after a brief wave of something like vertigo to accompany the shift, he is perched on the desk with a pair of arms and long legs, featherless, swinging his legs to and fro.

Phil turns around. A roll of bandages falls from his hand and to the floor. A quiet gasp echoes in the room.

He smiles at him, and then his gaze catches on his own arm. It’s already bandaged, for some reason. Interesting. He hadn’t caught that before. Red is seeping through at a rapid pace; it should probably be changed anyway.

“Hi, Phil,” he says. “Tada!” He throws in some jazz hands for good measure. “That’s a neat trick, isn’t it? No clue how I’m doing it, but I like it a lot. I’m a bird now, Phil. Caw caw, motherfucker.”

Phil’s mouth works soundlessly, and then, he says, “Wil?” It’s quiet, disbelieving, and he nods.

“I’m back,” he says. “New lease on life, Phil! I’m having a blast so far. That was what Ranboo was in here talking about, right? That was Ranboo? I saw him a bit earlier, but I was a bird. Sorry about that, he would’ve known to tell you I was here if I hadn’t been. Oops. But also not oops. I’m here anyway, so it’s alright.”

And then, his attention catches on something outside. Through the windows—which he can see the glass in now, thank you very much—the sky is turning orange and pink and purple, and it’s the sunset. And he realizes that he very much wants to see it. So he hops off the desk, cutting off whatever Phil was going to say, grabs him by the sleeve, and yanks him outside with him. It’s funny, how easy it is to pull Phil along behind him, but he releases him after a few steps so he can lean over the railing and look out across the tundra, staring directly into the sun.

“The sunrise is better,” he says, “you know, because it’s a new day and all. I felt like it was coming up just for me. But this is really nice too. I couldn’t get any colors like this in the station. I forgot how gorgeous this was, how gorgeous life was.”

“Wil, you—”

“This can be my sunset,” he says. “Except, I suppose that doesn’t sound as good. Should I do that, claim a sunset? Usually that means an ending. I’m not ending, Phil, I’m only just beginning.” He turns back to Phil. “There’s so much to do now, and I can do all of it.”

“Wil,” Phil repeats.

“Yeah?” he asks. He cocks his head. He’s not sure if that’s a him thing or a bird thing. Both now, he supposes.

Instead of speaking, Phil’s hands come up to cup the sides of his face. Those hands are trembling, but he scarcely notices, too caught up in the sensation of being touched. If he thought a light hand on his feathers was intense, it is nothing in the face of this. He presses himself into the contact, exhaling unsteadily.

Phil watches him with wide eyes. “You’re actually here?” he asks.

“Do you know,” he says, “I think I am.”

Phil makes a small sound. And then, slowly, as if he’s scared Wilbur will vanish, he removes his hands from his face. But before he can mourn the loss of contact, Phil wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls him close, and—

His head, all this time, has felt like a raging storm, a mess of thoughts and emotions, paint splattered on a canvas without regard for direction. But here, now, for a moment, his thoughts calm. Phil holds him, and the touch feels like fire racing across his skin, like burning in the best possible way. It occurs to him that, possibly, thirteen years in a train station has left him unaccustomed to touch.

“Thirteen—” Phil chokes out, almost drawing back before Wilbur throws his arms around him, preventing him from doing that. But he still sounds very worried, and, oops. He must have spoken aloud.

“It’s okay,” he says, turning his head to the side so that he’s not speaking into Phil’s shoulder. Burying his face in the crook of his neck sounds appealing, actually, but there are a few things that need to be said first, apparently. “It’s alright, I swear, I wanted you to, didn’t I? And it’s—I won’t lie and say it was good, it wasn’t good. You wouldn’t have liked me very much around year six. But  I’ve turned around since then, turned it all around. I’m so much better now! And it was—it really was the best possible outcome, you know? Because, because Dream’s in the prison, but if it hadn’t been him, it would’ve been me. But he’s in there and I’m out here, and I feel so free, Phil. So free. I can do what I want, and I have so many plans.”

That last bit is, perhaps, a little bit of a lie. Not much of one; he does have plans. It’s only that these plans are mostly fractured fragments, bits and pieces that don’t make sense as a whole, possibilities swirling around at high speed and getting all jumbled together. And a lot of them, too, just have to do with inane things. He’d rather like to eat something. And take a shower, if he can. And maybe sleep. It’s been a long time since he could sleep.

And also Tommy. He wants to find Tommy. He’ll give it a bit of time, so that Tommy is less likely to stab him on sight, but he really, really wants Tommy.

“The best possible—how do you figure that?” Phil says, and he frowns, because did Phil listen to a single thing he said? But that’s alright. Maybe he’ll try to explain it again later, when his thoughts aren’t rushing by so quickly.

“He’s my hero, you know,” he says. “Dream. He got me out of hell, Phil. He rescued me. He conducted the train that brought me back here. He saved me. Isn’t that brilliant?”

Phil takes a second before answering. His grip on Wilbur’s back seems to tighten, though, and he won’t complaining about that. “I doubt it was out of the goodness of his heart, Wil,” he says. “Dream’s not the sort of person to do things because he felt like being nice.”

“Oh, I know,” he agrees. “I know that, Phil, I’m not stupid. But that doesn’t matter all that much, does it? Not when he—actually, let’s talk about this later. I want to talk about this later.”

“Okay,” Phil says. “Okay, whatever you’d like.” Another pause, and then: “You’re really glad to be back?”

He pulls back from Phil a little bit. Which he doesn’t want to do, particularly, but this feels important, and he wants to look Phil in the face, in the eyes. He likes eye contact. Very grounding, eye contact. It’s not something he ever paid much mind before, but now, he’s sure he’ll ever forget it.

“Phil, I am over the moon,” he says. “I would literally be over the moon if that were possible. Who knows, maybe it is. I can turn into a bird now, did you notice that?”

“Kind of hard to miss,” Phil says, and he’s trying to be sarcastic, but really he just sounds happy. Happy because of him, maybe. That feels good, and also surprising. That he can make someone else happy. Even if that someone is his own father, so he’s not sure if it counts. “Do you know why—”

“No clue,” he says. “Though—do you remember when I was a kid, and I asked who my mother was, and you didn’t know how to explain the concept of marrying the goddess of death to a child, so you panicked and said mum was a fridge?”

“I—do remember that, yes.”

He shrugs, and then decides that he’d like more hugs, so he leans back in, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder. “I was dead for a really long time, Phil. I figured it might be my fridge genes acting up or something. I dunno.” His speech is broken up by a yawn, loud and crackly. “Caw caw.”

“Okay, I’d like you to ever say the words ‘fridge genes’ to me again, but. Okay, that might make some sort of sense.” Phil starts rubbing circles into his back, which feels very warm, and good, and he’s very tired right now, actually. “You tired, Wil?” Phil goes on to ask, as if he can read his mind.

“Yeah,” he admits. “I flew all the way here. Got turned around a few times. I love what you’ve done with the place, by the way, but why do you have to live out in the middle of nowhere?”

“Techno chose it. For his ‘retirement.’”

“That makes—” Another yawn. “That makes a lot more sense.”

“If you want to go back inside, I can get a bed set up for you.”

He thinks about that. A bed sounds nice. And also a shower, at some point. He would like a shower. But right now, that sounds like a lot of effort, and the exhaustion is hitting him hard and fast, and his eyelids are trying to glue themselves shut this very second.

“Maybe later,” he says, and before Phil can respond, tugs at his other shape, and transforms seamlessly, beating his wings in the air half-heartedly. He has just enough energy to remain airborne for a split second, and as Phil lurches forward, caught off guard by the sudden shift, he lands on his shoulder, clutching the fabric of his robe with his claws.

“Oh,” Phil says. “Oh, okay. This is fine, I guess.”

He squawks, directly into Phil’s ear, and then settles himself down, right against his neck. It’s a very cozy spot, very comfortable. This will do nicely. Nicer than any bed. His mind is drifting, drifting far and away.

He hears Phil chuckle, and then a the creak of the door, and the temperature changes rapidly as they reenter his house, presumably. He tucks his head down. Closes his eyes. And then, he feels fingers lightly stroking along his wings, and that is very, very nice, so he chirps in approval, and hears Phil chuckle again. That’s good. That’s very good. He can sleep like this. Anything else can wait until the morning. Until the next sunrise. He’s going to see so many sunrises.

So for the first time since long before his death, Wilbur rests.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #wilbur soot #philza #ranboo #tommyinnit #tubbo #revivebur #/rp #cw injury #cw mild unreality #cw body horror #probably #also just. warnings for c!wilbur's general mental state #he thinks he's doing great but spoiler alert. he is not #cat writes fic #long post #i wrote the majority of this about three or four weeks ago #so it doesn't really take any of the more recent streams into account #but my desire for crowbur outweighs my desire to be relevant #this fic is literally just. c!wilbur can Be Bird and is touch-starved #and is the most unreliable narrator ever but we love him anyway

[ph1lzascrows]

Incoming Dream SMP Weather Report of the Week:

Monday: Looks like we have quite the storm coming in with it starting off early with some possible Tommy and Tubbo content, followed by a guaranteed whirlwind of Quackity lore, and topping it off with some possible Ranboo content.

Tuesday: Forecast... unknown, but Ludwig will be ending his month long subathon, so things will be clearing up.

Wednesday/Thursday: TBD... honestly on this SMP anything can happen, so best bring a rain jacket just in case.

Friday: Thanks to previous data and statistics gathered diligently by avid watchers we know that the likelihood of a lore-storm on this Friday the 16th is high. Be prepared, and make sure you know where your nearest storm shelter is.

Misc.: We have been notified that it will be important to pay attention to social media stuff this week, so keep your eyes peeled.

Tales of the SMP is being teased so we may hear more in the future.

Quackity has delayed his Jackbox stream to a later date. If the winds are favorable this week we may have have some luck and get this stream this week.

And finally, Red Banquet invites are being sent out. This looks to be THE event of the coming days/weeks, so brush off your best outfit and come with a empty stomach because according to reports, “The food is to die for...”

Stay tuned for further updates. 

This has been your, Dream SMP weather report.

#dream smp #dreamwastaken #dream smp lore #quackity #tubbo #tommyinnit #karl jacobs #ranboo #week of the 16th #curse of the 16th on the dream smp #humorous post #warning: this is not a real weather report #mcyt dream smp #dream smp the 16th #dsmp #the eggpire #the red banquet

[dreamsclock]

Excuse me sparrow dreamsclock sir have we considered the canonic implications of c!tommy saying he gets stoned with c!sapnap every thursday-

i wanted to write something a little funnier, so have this !! i like to imagine them just ,, meeting up randomly and talking for hours, because i want more of their friendship in canon !! they had such an interesting dynamic back in season one and i wanna see more of it :)

warnings: smoking / drugs (implied), torture / abuse / death (mentioned)

"My brother left me," Tommy says morosely, picking at a scab on his knee, "it was fucked up."

My brother left me too," Sapnap points out, and there's enough competition in his voice that Tommy directs his scowl and foul mood towards him instead, "and my best friend."

"Well, my best friend left me too!"

"Yeah, but... he un-left you too. He came back, didn't he? Or, well, he let you come back, anyway." Sapnap says.

Tommy scoffs. "I'm not fucking talking about exile, Sapnap. He left me for fucking Ranboo! The worst guy in the world apart from Dream - no offen- actually, yes, offence, take offence at that, dickhead - and Tubbo chose him over me!"

Sapnap sighs. "That is pretty shitty. I don't mind Ranboo, I think he's cool, though."

"Die." Tommy levels a glare at him, and then beckons impatiently for the cigarette in the other boy's hand. "Pass it, then, go on."

Sapnap obliges amicably, and Tommy takes the cigarette, squinting at it, and then confidently putting it to his lips. He holds his breath, pretends to take a long drag inwards, and offers it back to Sapnap.

"I'm high now, by the way," Tommy informs him helpfully, watching Sapnap do the same, "very high."

"Yeah, dude, so am I. Man, that's crazy."

"And anyway," Tommy continues, like he hadn't left off, "I think my trauma tops yours, 'cause not only did Tubbo leave me for Ranboo, but he also married him. I gave them my permission or whatever, but it's still fucking the worst."

Sapnap sighs. "Yeah, but you're forgetting," he says, "Quackity left me and Karl and we were all supposed to get married together."

"Ouch," Tommy replies, wincing, "yeah, that's shit."

"And I think-" Sapnap's voice cracks. "And I think Karl's gonna leave pretty soon too. And then it'll be me left. Uh.... Like Dream and George too, when they left. That's- That could happen soon."

Tommy looks incredibly uncomfortable, patting Sapnap's back awkwardly. "Ouch," he repeats, "that's shitter."

Sapnap buries his head in his hands. "I miss them."

"Well," Tommy tries, "if it's any consolation, Quackity is about two days from making out with Wilbur and I'm caught in the middle of their divorce slash marriage arc."

Head jerking up, Sapnap stares at him in heartbroken outrage. "What?"

"I know," Tommy sighs, "poor me."

Sapnap bursts into tears. 

Tommy winces.

"Come on, pal, pull yourself to-fuckin'-gether. It could be worse."

"How?" Sapnap demands, taking another fake drag from the cigarette. "How could it be worse?"

"Well... We could be... You know?" Tommy looks at him meaningfully. Sapnap stares back, entirely on a different page.

"Yeahhh..." He says, "I know. One hundred percent. You know?"

Tommy scowls. "I mean, at least we're not being tortured every day in prison in an inhumane cell for information on a revive book with no hope of escape or rest other than death. That would be pretty shit."

Sapnap sighs. "I guess, yeah. What a weirdly specific scenario, though."

It's Tommy's turn to be confused. "What do you mean, weirdly specific?"

"I mean, you could say the same about any shitty situation, right?" Sapnap presses thoughtfully. "Like, at least we're not being kept inside an underground alligator lair and being forced to fight against them in a gator-fighting pit for our survival. Like, it was just such a niche scenario."

Tommy stares at him, horrified. "Who the fuck do you know is being kept in a gator-fighting pit?" He demands. “Why haven’t you got them out, are you insane?”

Sapnap stares at him in complete bemusement. "Nobody..? Who do you know that's being kept in your scenario?"

"Dream?" Tommy reminds him, rolling his eyes. "Fuckin' hell, your memory is shit. No wonder you like fuckin’ Ranboo.”

Sapnap looks like he's watching a car crash happen in front of him. "What?!"

"...Dream," Tommy says patiently, "your ex-best friend. Your brother. Your bro. You remember? He's the one in the prison being tortured."

...No, judging from Sapnap's horrified expression, he does not remember. Maybe because, Tommy suddenly remembers, a lot of people on the server don't actually know.

"Whoops," he adds as an afterthought, "pretend I didn't say that."

He shoves the cigarette at Sapnap when the older boy doesn't respond.

"Get stoned to forget about it," he says helpfully.

“Nuh-uh-uh, fuck that,” Sapnap snaps, knocking the cigarette from his own hand and grinding his heel on it aggressively, “you’re gonna tell me everything you fucking know now or I’m never smoking with you again.”

Tommy groans, looking dejected, and begins talking.

#i didn't really know how to end this lol my brain is so foggy #but have some of the Boys TM #> tommy (derogatory) #> my writing !! #> pandas :) #> stone duo #i guess lolol #tw drugs #tw smoking #tw torture #tw abuse #tw death

[doodlebloo]

Tommy's last day of college is on Thursday... Wilbur's EP is 75% done... Tubbo's back in the UK in December and other ccs will likely return home then as well to spend the holidays w family... Theres a LN lore stream at the end of this month... Tales is on the way... December-February is the Lore Time I'm telling y'all that's when it's gonna happen.

#not copium ! #doodle.txt

[geekgrizz]

High School AU Senior!Karlnapity adopting Freshman!Ranboo (saw on the ol tl)

They meet because Ranboo joint like a quarter way through the year, so he has no where to sit and he goes and sits in the corner Karl, Quackity, George (and sometimes Sapnap and Dream) for lunch

When Karl, Quackity and George get there they’re a little baffled because literally no one sits there usually (that’s why they picked it)

But they sit down and Quackity happily introduces himself and prompts Ranboo to talk to them

This then leads to things Karl slipping to talk to Ranboo and give him a cupcake he made in food when he’s by his locker later that day and Quackity bumping into him on the bus and sitting by him

Ranboo sits in the same place the next day, Sapnap and Dream sitting with them this time, he’s a bit more chatty that day as he gets more comfortable with them, Dream and George slipping off to ‘pop to the toilet’ halfway through lunch

By Thursday Karl comes to Ranboos locker and asks him if he wants to go to Sapnaps after school because that’s where they usually hang out and it’d be cool if he came

So they start this little dynamic where Ranboo will eat lunch with them and then go hang out with them after school at Sapnaps

(which is how he learns that for when hes not home Sapnap secretly made Karl a copy of his house key so they can just go in and too his room)

Then one day the next week Ranboo turns up at Sapnaps really excited because he had made his first proper freshman friends, Tubbo and Tommy

He sat next to Tubbo in a couple of classes and they’d been getting on really well and then Tubbo had invited him to go hang out with him and his best friend Tommy after school

Karl gets really excited and starts rambling questions like “oh should we bake cookies for him? you can give them to him tomorrow” “should we introduce ourselves him? to let him know you have back up if he’s mean”

Quackity looking at him and rolling his eyes muttering “you don’t introduce 2 nerdy seniors and their chad to someone you’re trying to befriend”

Sapnap ignoring them both and just patting him on the shoulder and a “well done kid”

Ranboo stops sitting with them at lunch as he sits with Tubbo and Tommy now but he still goes to Sapnaps with them quite often after school and talks with them in the corridors

One day the three boys are at a party and while George and Quackity are trying to convince Dream and Sap to do another round of shots Karl gets a tap on the shoulder and finds himself looking at Wilbur exhasperatedly holding out Ranboo to him while Tommy and Tubbo sway on either side of him

“is this one yours?”

“yes i believe so”

“good can you take him because I have to get these ones in without Dadza noticing their state and I don’t think I could manage a third one”

Ranboo smiling sheepishly down at him

Sapnap sees him and offers up a high five and then a thumbs up before Quackity turns around and frowns “did you come to your first party without us”

“you didn’t invite me”

“that doesn’t mean you can just ditch us”

Quackity uses the excuse of Ranboo being there to make everyone (except Karl) have shots because they can’t have him miss out on the proper party experience

This then leads to beer pong because according to Sapnap the boy has to be taught

Finally leading to George’s guess the cocktail game

But Karl won’t let Ranboo have much because he doesn’t trust George’s skills enough

Finally Karl finds himself dragging Quackity out the door as Ranboo leans on him for support and Sapnap stumbles in front for the 5 minute walk to the car

He drives them to his house because his parents are out that weekend, and shepherds them up to his room, Ranboo passes out in his big beanbag and the other three taking the bed

The next morning Ranboo wakes up to the sound of a thump and then running and Karl’s exasperated sigh before he sarcastically shouts “try to be louder next time you run to the sick bowl eh Quack”

He groans as his head bangs and tries burying his head further into the bean bag but Karl must notice because he walks over and sits on the floor next to him

“would you like some water and aspirin?”

Ranboo just groans in return but Karl got the message because a couple of seconds later he’s poking him and holding out a glass and some pills

He takes it and gulps all the water as Sapnap comes over and leans on Karl and groans

“why does he get special treatment”

“maybe because it’s his first hangover you big oaf. anyway i left the packet of aspirin on the bedside table with my water bottle you can get it yourself.”

“maybe i want your love and care put into it”

“okay babe i’ll consider it next time”

“fuck off you know it’s my turn to be sober next time”

“the way you’re talking sounds like you don’t want me to cook the waffle mix mom made because i told her you were sleeping”

“i fucking love mrs jacobs”

#my inconsistency of capital letters is appauling #anyway should i do more high school au hcs #or a proper fic 👀 #OH NO IVE JUST HAD A REALLY GOOD IDEA THAT IMMA HAVE TO DO #dsmp #ranboo #karlnapity #karl jacobs #sapnap #quackity

[codyjey]

hi spoilers for tommys recent stream but

he has a plan to kill dream this thursday or friday. now, here's literally TEN REASONS / PEOPLE THAT COULD GET IN HIS WAY OF DOING THIS TO SHOW YOU THERE'S NO POSSIBLE WAY THIS IS GONNA GO IN TOMMYS FAVOR

1. sam. prison guard. he's not gonna let tommy get anywhere close to doing this.

2. quackity. quackity NEEDS DREAM ALIVE SO HE CAN GET THE REVIVE BOOK INFO HENCE WHY HE HASN'T KILLED HIM YET

3. techno. techno still owes dream a favor

4. dream himself. tommy and tubbo could get in there and see dream already so so weak because of what quackity has been doing to him. he could fool them and get out, tommy could start to feel sympathy.

5. wilbur. wilbur could be back and stop tommy from killing dream

6. dream could just, yknow, not die. he kept saying he might as well be a god. he could have more than 3 canon lives

7. theres also, guess what, a possibility they get in there and dream is fucking gone

8. HELL EVEN FUCKING KARL COULD STOP HIM BECAUSE HE COULD REALISE KILLING DREAM WOULD MESS WITH TIME

9. OR EVEN FUCKING GEORGE BECAUSE HE'S BEEN HAVING DREAMS ABOUT DREAM AND OBVIOUSLY MISSES HIM AND WOULDN'T WANT HIM DEAD.

10. OR EVEN BAD BECAUSE OF THE EGG SHIT AND THINKS DREAM COULD HELP HIM

AND THERE COULD BE MORE I'M NOT TAKING INTO ACCOUNT!!! THIS ISN'T GOING TO GO HIS WAY AT ALL!!! SO BE FUCKING READY Y'ALL

#/rp #dream smp #dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #karl jacobs #sapnap #georgenotfound #quackity #awesamdude #wilbursoot #technoblade