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rnelodyy · 3 years

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c!Dream and the rules

(/dsmp /rp, all names refer to characters, not content creators)

I think one of the most striking parts of Exile is something that I rarely see talked about, and it’s Dream’s rules. Or rather, how his rules were made to be used as justification to hurt Tommy.

The thing about exile is that, outside of the initial rule of “Don’t go back to L’Manburg”, Dream never told Tommy the rules, yet constantly operated under the assumption that Tommy already knew them, and had accepted them. The rules also changed constantly, without Tommy ever being notified until he was already in trouble.

The second time Dream told Tommy to put his armor in the hole, he didn’t tell Tommy to do that right away. Instead, the conversation went like this (slightly edited to remove stammering and unrelated dialogue).

Dream: Do you have, uh… something you wanna put on the floor here? Tommy: Yes. (drops two pieces of red concrete as Dream digs a hole) Dre-eam! You’re evil. You’re evil. Dream: Anything else, Tommy? Tommy: Nope! Dream: Oh c’mon, I know there’s something else you wanna drop down here. Tommy: (panicking slightly) No, there… (messages BBH “take this and run”, throws him the disc BBH had gifted him earlier) Um… I don’t reckon there is! (pause) Dream: Okay, are you suuuure? Tommy: YES. Dream: Alright… How ‘bout your armor, Tommy? Tommy: Well, no, this is- I actually earned this myself. Dream: I know you did! Tommy: Leave me alone. Dream: Just drop it in the hole, Tommy. Tommy: Wh- no, NO, you can’t just come and demand things from me! I’ve been exiled, I’ve done your shit, what do you mean?! Dream: (sing-song) Tommy… Tommy: What? (Dream hits Tommy with his axe, taking over half his health) Tommy: (screams, drops his armor) OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY!

The only rule Tommy was aware of at this time was that he wasn’t allowed to go back to L’Manburg. Dream had taken his armor the night before, but there was no indication that he expected Tommy to do this constantly. Taking his armor upon initially arriving at Logstedshire made some kind of sense, allowing Tommy to keep it would run the risk of him trying to fight his way back into L’Manburg. Taking his new, very shitty armor (seriously it was an iron chestplate and a pair of golden leggings he got from a ruined portal chest) made no sense at all, so the fact that Tommy was confused and refused to cooperate at first isn’t unexpected in the slightest.

And the thing is… Dream was aware of this fact. Throughout the conversation, he never really sounded annoyed, and was actively teasing Tommy at times. This isn’t a good thing btw, it’s a sign that he was fully aware that Tommy didn’t know what he wanted from him, and that that would create a situation where Dream could “put him in his place” as it were.

If you’re a parent, and your kid does something that’s not allowed, without knowing it’s not allowed, you don’t start off with a beating. You sit them down, calmly explain the rules to them and explain why those rules are there, then send them on their way with the knowledge that they shouldn't do it again.

This interaction wasn’t an instance of Tommy acting out and Dream correcting him. This interaction was a trap. Dream set Tommy up to fail by not telling him the rules beforehand, and when Tommy offered even the slightest bit of resistance and asked why he needed to drop his armor, Dream jumped straight to beating him. It’s a powerplay, plain and simple.

This is demonstrated again with the destruction of Logstedshire. Dream got pissed that Tommy disobeyed him by having hidden chests with gear under his house, and retaliated by destroying everything Tommy had built, destroying every item he’d collected, killing his pet and only foodsource, barring him from the Nether, banning everyone except himself from visiting, and telling him to start over from scratch after a whole lecture about how Tommy betrayed him.

Again, I wanna point out some specific lines from this lecture that illustrate my point very well.

Dream: You were lying to me! You were lying to me. Tommy: No- Why was I lying?! Dream: What do you mean, why were you lying?! Tommy: I wasn’t hi- I wasn’t- Dream: You hid things in a chest knowing they were things I wouldn’t want you to have! And you hid it in a way that way I would never find it!

Except Tommy didn’t know that. The contents of the stash were all items that Tommy had obtained previously without any issue (diamonds, emeralds, iron, ender pearls, some pickaxes, and some purely sentimental items like flowers, a jukebox, and pictures of Tubbo and L’Manburg). In fact, the vast majority of them came from Tommy’s aboveground storage, which Dream had full access to, and had looked through before!

Dream also never said Tommy wasn’t allowed to hide stuff, and there was nothing to suggest he didn’t want Tommy to keep secrets from him.

There’s been a theory floating around for a while that Dream knew about Tommy’s item stash beforehand, since it was a very strange place to dig a hole (like, right in front of the house in the center of Logstedshire itself, instead of out in the plains where the TNT wouldn’t damage any structures), and Tommy had previously forgotten to cover up the entrance ladder. While Dream hadn’t looked inside the house, he would’ve definitely heard Tommy place the block back.

If this theory is correct, then this was yet another trap. Dream knew Tommy had a hidden room, and instead of just saying “hey, I don’t want you to have a hidden stash, go put this back and fill in the room” (which would’ve still been bullshit btw), he went COMPLETELY ballistic, destroyed EVERYTHING Tommy had, and while doing it, kept admonishing Tommy for betraying him, said shit like “I thought we were friends”, and even accused him of preparing to attack Dream. Again, a powerplay.

Hell, even the exile conflict itself is this! Tommy was exiled for griefing the king’s property while being a high-ranking official in L’Manburg. Except Fundy, the then-president’s son, CONSTANTLY griefed Eret’s shit after the L’Manburg war, ranging from ripping down one of their towers to “shrink” it, filling another tower with water, and multiple elaborate plots to steal the throne from under their nose. But apparently, between all of that shit and the exile-conflict, the rules were silently changed, meaning Dream could exile Tommy for breaking a couple blocks and placing some rude signs in George’s house. Even the punishment itself was changed without warning, as Tommy went from being exiled from L’Manburg to exiled from “everywhere that’s ever been touched.”

...I was originally gonna make a different point here. I may put it in the reblogs, because I still think it’s very interesting. But, in the middle of writing this essay I had to stop because it was late, then I spent the entire next day packing up because I’m in the middle of a move. It's now the next evening, I'm sat in my new room, on my camping bed, I opened this doc because I pretty much forgot what I typed, I reread it, and then I realized… This isn’t an isolated series of events. This is a pattern for Dream.

Before Tommy first joined the server, there were only three set rules: no stealing, no griefing, and no killing people. Except by that point, those rules weren’t enforced at all. In fact, Dream broke all three at once at one point, by killing George and burning his diamond armor because he didn’t feel it was fair that George got to run around in full diamond when everyone else still had iron.

Tommy joined the server, and broke the rules like everyone else. He stole shit, broke shit, killed George for funsies… and he got exiled for it. Seriously, they dumped him in an empty snowfield for breaking rules that nobody had enforced for weeks. So technically, the Exile-arc isn’t even the first time something like this has happened to him!

During the events that would eventually spark the Disc War, Sapnap stole a bunch of Tommy’s items (including the only Netherite chestplate on the server at the time), and told him he’d only give the stuff back if Tommy helped him with a conflict he had with Ponk. Long story short, Dream tried to intervene and was killed by Tommy and Sapnap, and Dream stole Tommy’s discs to force him to apologize. He then kept the discs, and the Disc War followed. Sapnap, despite being the aggressor and arguably forcing Tommy to participate in the conflict, was never punished.

This proves not only that the rules can change whenever Dream feels like it, but that they’re arbitrarily enforced. Dream refuses to punish his friends for the same crimes he endlessly fucks over Tommy for.

L’Manburg was created in part because of the fact that the rules were unevenly enforced. Tommy, Wilbur, and later Tubbo were repeatedly killed, stolen from, imprisoned, and even held hostage for very minor crimes, while the people killing, imprisoning, kidnapping and stealing from them were able to do so without impunity.

This was also the point where Dream just started making up new rules; there was no rule against having governments on the server, or making a separate area where Dream’s rules wouldn’t apply, so Dream banned governments, and used this new rule as an excuse to kill them, take their items, and tear their land to shreds.

And that’s another thing: the punishments for breaking Dream’s rules are INCREDIBLY harsh.

Kill him non-canonically one time? Your most prized possessions will now be dangled over your head and used to hurt you for the next few months.

Make a country with different laws that doesn’t infringe on anyone’s territory, has no desire to expand, is explicitly pacifistic and open to trade negotiations? You’ll be forced to fight a war you’re in no way equipped to fight, you’ll be betrayed and murdered and have your land destroyed in front of your very eyes until you literally have no choice but to surrender.

Mildly vandalize the king’s house, which nobody else has ever been punished for? You’ll be dragged into court, exiled from your home, and subjected to weeks of abuse until you believe that all of your friends hate you and you actively want to kill yourself.

Hide some stuff in a secret chest? Your only shelter will be exploded, your pet/only food source will be killed, all your items will be destroyed, you’ll be banned from the Nether, and none of your friends will be allowed to come see you.

This is all such disproportionate retribution it’s ridiculous. It’s like punishing someone for speeding by blowing up their car with a ballistic missile.

So to sum up: Dream’s rules are arbitrarily enforced, and he can just straight up make them up on the spot if he feels like it. Sometimes, he won’t tell you a rule exists until you’ve already broken it, and you’re treated as if you broke it out of malice instead of genuine ignorance. And if you do break a rule, and he decides you have to be punished, it will always be a punishment so harsh it doesn’t even ATTEMPT to fit the crime.

I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty fucking corrupt and tyrannical to me.

When people say Tommy deserved exile, or made Dream spiral into villainy, or abused Dream somehow (seriously I’ve seen this take multiple times and every time it makes my brain melt) by breaking the rules, I would invite them to take a step back and ask themselves, why did that rule exist? Did Tommy know it existed? Was it enforced for everyone other than him as well? Does the punishment fit the crime?

Dream has a bad habit of making up rules, or enforcing old ones that were never enforced before, to punish those who threaten his power. None of the Dream Team were ever punished for anything, despite committing the same crimes as the L’Manburgians. That is, until they founded Mexican L’Manburg (i.e. went against Dream’s rule), at which point they were attacked by Dream and George was dethroned for “not being neutral enough.”

Tommy should’ve faced consequences for what he did. But those consequences should’ve come naturally, and been carried out by the people he hurt. Like, if Dream hadn’t intervened, griefing George’s house would’ve resulted in George griefing Tommy back in revenge. In fact, he DID do that, by turning Tommy’s entire house into granite and putting the Jump In The Cadillac picture on his front lawn.

These are natural, proportionate consequences. Exile was none of that. The Disc War was none of that. Everything that happened to L’Manburg was none of that.

Dream’s rules and how he enforces them are inherently corrupt and tyrannical. To pretend it’s anything but is disingenuous at best.

#dream smp #dsmp #dsmp analysis #c!dream #c!tommy #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #i had a COMPLETELY different point that i wanted to make but then i thought about it and went w a i t #uhhh if you wanna hear my original point lemme know i guess #anyway c!dream is such an interesting character! i hate him!#little green bastard man #c!dream critical

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

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Pocket Knife Prince

Pairing: c!Technoblade x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] You’ve liked Technoblade from the moment he joined Pogtopia, but you could never quite bring yourself to confess. Who knew it would only take a pocket knife and some potatoes to change that?

Warnings: minor cursing & one slightly out of pocket joke

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this a repost of an older story i had posted a while back. this story takes place back when technoblade was still allied with pogtopia. i hope you enjoy! <3

You huffed as you pulled yourself up another rung on the ladder, your arms straining as you did your best to keep yourself balanced. You still couldn’t fathom why Tommy thought it was a good idea to dig straight down.

“I’ll hit a cave, eventually,” he had told you as he grabbed a pickaxe, already starting to mine away at the space beneath his feet.

“Maybe,” you had said. “But what if you hit a lava pool? Do you really want to burn alive?”

“Oh, I have a backup plan in case I fuck up.” He held up a bucket of water, grinning at you. “Bam. Fucking foolproof.”

Yeah, sure, you thought to yourself with a grimace as you continued to haul yourself upward. You might not have died while digging down, but I might die while climbing up.

Pausing, you reached behind you to adjust the strap of your back with a cry of frustration. This is way too heavy—I should have gone back earlier.

You looked back up again, squinting for a second before your eyes lit up. At long last, light! You were at least somewhat close to the entrance, now. “Just a bit more climbing,” you muttered to yourself as you reached up once more, “and then you’ll be able to take this stupid bag off.”

A few moments later, you gasped as you finally dragged yourself out of the vertical tunnel, standing up on shaky legs. Without even an ounce of hesitation, you swung your pack off your back, dumping it onto the dusty earth ungracefully. Your muscles practically screamed with relief as you rolled back your shoulders, a wide smile stretching across your face.

“Hey, boys!” you shouted, your voice echoing in the tall ravine. “Guess who’s back?!”

You heard some rumbling, then a tuft of blond hair peeked out from one of the overhanging pillars. “Big [Y/N]!” Tommy shouted, waving at you. “You took for-fuckin’-ever to get back.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s not my fault we needed so much stuff.” You narrowed your gaze. “Also, your ladder idea sucks.”

Tommy scowled. “My ladder idea is fucking genius, you bi—”

A new voice cut in. “Tommy, that’s enough.”

You smiled triumphantly as you watched Tommy immediately shrink back, his tone quieting as he grumbled defeatedly, “Yes, Wilbur.”

Giving him a quick ruffle of his hair, Wilbur strolled down the ravine��s cobblestone steps down to the bottom. He pulled his hands out of his coat pockets as he flashed you a grin. “Welcome back, [Y/N]. How was the trip?”

You offered him a weary but satisfied look. “Oh, you know. Dark. Dusty. The usual. But…” Bending down, you flipped open the top of your pack and pulled out a smaller sack, shaking it in front of his face. “…I got all that gold you wanted! There’s probably a little less than seven stacks in there, which will be plenty if we want to make some golden apples.”

Wilbur blinked at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise as a smile began to tug at his lips. “Not that I doubt you or anything,” he said, “but where in the world did you manage to get nearly seven stacks of gold?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, dropping the bag into his hands with a hum. “In a cave.” When he stared at you in stunned silence, you quirked a brow at him. “What? It’s not like it was hard.”

He was grinning now, shaking his head. “You’re batshit crazy, [Y/N]. That’s incredible.”

You smiled sheepishly at his words. “For the record,” you pointed out, “I didn’t do it all in a single day or anything. I was gone for, like, half a week.”

“That’s still really good work, alright?” He reached over, playfully punching your shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

You winced, shooting him a dirty look. “Ow, that hur—”

“Oh, you’re back.”

Your head whipped around at the sound of low, rumbling voice. Your frown vanished at the sight of Technoblade standing a few feet away from you, a basket of potatoes held in his gloved hands. You felt your heart swell and a bright grin replace your scowl as you bounced over to him. “Hi, Techno!” you chirped.

He smiled back at you, his gaze kind. “Hello.”

From behind you, Wilbur let out a distressed noise. “Jeez, you seem so excited to talk to him but barely batted an eye at me. Did you miss him that much?”

You stuck your tongue out at him, trying to hide the flush of your cheeks. “More than I did you.”

Tommy cackled as he walked by, adjusting the straps of the pack in his hands. “Ouch. Maybe you should get some ice for that burn, Wilbur.”

Wilbur grimaced, opening his mouth to retort when his gaze suddenly lit up. “Actually,” he said, turning, “speaking of ice, who wants to go with me to the Nether to destroy some of the SMP’s and Manberg’s ice roads?” A devilish grin split across his face. “I figured that it would slow them down a bunch and they’d spend less time focusing on us, so it’ll be easier for us to get into contact with Tubbo.”

You blinked at him, then sent him a teasing smile. “Wilbur, this might one of the only good ideas you’ve had since starting a drug cartel.”

“Thank y—wait, is that a compliment?”

“Man,” Technoblade sighed, rolling his eyes at him, “just take it as one and let your ego coast on that for the next six months.”

“Anyways,” Wilbur said, ignoring him and moving on, “who wants to come with me?”

You shook your head, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “No thanks. I just got back from a long, long mining trip. I think I’m due for some time off.”

Wilbur nodded. “Alright, fair.” His gaze moved to the figure standing next to you. “Techno?”

Technoblade simply raised the basket of potatoes in his hands. “Nah. I’ve got my hands full here.”

Wilbur made a face, a hint of desperation seeping into his eyes. “You can farm potatoes any time,” he said, his voice raising a pitch or two. “How about you just come with m—”

“Why don’t I just go?”

Wilbur froze, and he turned with a shaky smile. “A-Are you sure about that, Tommy? You sure you don’t just want to stay in the ravine with [Y/N]?”

Tommy shrugged, flipping the stick in his hand. “Not really. It’s not like I have anything better to do, anyways.” He nudged the pack at his feet. “I’m even packed and ready to go, too.”

Wilbur swallowed, and you could have sworn a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. “You really want to come?” he added, sounding more and more uncertain with each word that passed his lips.

“I dunno, Wilbur,” Technoblade spoke up, quirking his lips at him, “but it almost sounds like you don’t want to bring Tommy with you.”

Tommy gasped, looking appalled. “What the hell, Will? Of course you want me to go with you, right?”

Wilbur turned on his heel, dragging a tired hand over his face. “Sure, Tommy. Let’s just say that.” He strode away toward the stairs, practically stomping his way up to the second floor. “Just give me a second to grab a pack,” he sighed, waving a hand behind him. “I’ll be down in like five minutes.”

Tommy threw his hands in the air, waving his stick. “Fuck yeah!”

Technoblade let out a quiet chuckle, turning on his heel. “Well, I’m gonna go back to farming.”

You glanced at him shyly, trailing after him. “Can I come with?”

His step faltered, and he turned to send you a fond look. “Always.”

Your heart lit up at the sight and you grinned, following him into the garden room. The entirety of the floor had been replaced with dirt, tiny streams of water weaving their way around the potato patches. You let out a quiet hum as Technoblade set the basket of potatoes on the ground, grabbing a hoe from its place on the wall and walking over to the makeshift field. Digging the blade of the hoe into the earth, he pulled back and repeated the motion until the soft, dark soil was exposed to the air. Leaning back against the wall, a soft smile crept onto your face as you watched.

You remembered when Technoblade first arrived in the Dream SMP, all those months ago. You had been sitting in the ravine, peeling an apple with a pocket knife as you chatted with Wilbur, when Tommy burst in with a deafening shout about “the blade”. Raising your head, you had opened your mouth to make a snarky retort, but the words died in your mouth the minute you laid eyes on him.

He looked like a prince—a handsome one, at that.

While Wilbur had jumped down to greet Technoblade with a friendly hug, you had simply stared at the newcomer, pocket knife in your hand and apple slice in the other. As Tommy brought Technoblade over to you and asked you to introduce yourself, you remembered that dizzy pink feeling rising in your chest as you blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Want an apple slice?”

You had expected him to be confused, shaking his head and pulling away with a disgusted look. But instead, his gaze flickered to your hand.

“I’d rather have the knife.”

You had blinked at him for a moment, stunned, then burst into laughter, outstretching your hand with the pocket knife handle extended toward him. He had offered you a small, awkward smile back, gingerly taking the knife from you. When his hands brushed against yours, that hazy, rosy feeling swelled in your chest again.

Ever since that moment, you’d only fallen harder and harder.

It was difficult to put into words just what drew you to Technoblade. Of course, he was pretty, but you weren’t that shallow. He had an awkward charm to him, something that seeped into every aspect of his being. He was hardworking, determined, sarcastic, and oh-so very real. You couldn’t name one thing about him that you didn’t like, really. You loved his laughter that came in brief, giggling bursts. Every time he smiled, you couldn’t help but smile back. He never failed to keep you guessing, and you loved every second you spent with him.

You weren’t sure how far you’d fallen at this point, but you knew one thing, and it was that there was no going back.

“Hey,” a new voice said suddenly, pulling you away from your thoughts. You turned, watching Tommy stick his head into the room. “Can I have some potatoes for the trip?”

Your eyes shot to Technoblade, who paused for a moment, then nodded, gesturing to the basket at his feet. “Sure. You can have a couple.”

Tommy grinned, strolling in to lean down and pluck three potatoes from the pile. Standing back up again, he toed the basket, tossing and catching a potato in his hands. “Hey, Techno,” he said, “don’t you ever get tired of farming these things?”

Technoblade paused, patting down the dirt he had just covered another potato with. “Eh, not really.” His eyes flickered with contentment, and you felt your lips twitch. “I like it.”

Tommy frowned. “But,” he said, “it’s so fucking boring.”

You gasped, shooting him a glare. “Tommy! That’s mean.”

“What? Am I wrong?” He flung his arm out to point at the tilled dirt, clearly unimpressed. “All he’s doing is the same fucking thing over and over, again. We’re in a war, [Y/N]. Why can’t he just spar with me or something?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, deadpanning. “Tommy, the last time you sparred with Technoblade, you lasted less than ten seconds.”

He grew quiet. “Okay, well, you didn’t have to put it like that, but—”

“What? Am I wrong?” you said, mimicking him.

A second passed. Then two.

“…touché, [Y/N].”

“Tommy!” Wilbur’s voice echoed from the top of the stairs, his head popping out from between the railings. “You ready to go?”

Without missing a beat, Tommy whipped around, rushing out of the farm room and slipping up the stairs. “I’m coming!”

A smirk tugged at Wilbur’s lips. “Heh.”

“Wha—oh, Will! That’s fucking disgusting.”

“But it was funny,” you called out after the youngest.

“Fuck off, [Y/N]!”

Beside you, Technoblade let out a laugh, his eyes curving into two crescent moons as he set down the hoe and picked up a shovel. With a fond smile gracing your lips, you took a step toward him, leaning down to take a closer look. There was something so endearing about knowing someone as powerful as Technoblade had a hobby as mundane as farming—farming potatoes, to be more specific.

You liked it. A lot. You liked him a lot.

You wondered how much longer you could go without saying it aloud.

“Hey, Techno,” you murmured, watching his ears perk up at the sound of your voice, “could you teach me the best way to plant potatoes?”

He paused, his shovel planting itself in the earth as he turned to look at you, his lips parted in surprise. “Y-You actually want to learn?”

You bobbed your head, praying that your face wasn’t growing any warmer. “Of course. Fighting’s fun and all, but there’s more to life than just bloodshed.” You flashed him a bright grin. “Besides, an army needs food to fight!”

With a small grin, he gestured for you step closer. “You want to make sure you dig about six to eight inches down,” he explained, gesturing down the hole with his finger. “If you don’t dig deep enough, then the potato will be too close to the surface, and if you dig too deep, it’ll have a harder time reaching the top.”

You nodded, your tongue swiping over your lips in concentration. Technoblade let out a brief cough, turning away with a slight flush to his cheeks as he grabbed a potato from the basket next to him. “Then,” he continued, “grab a potato. You’ll want to cut it in half down the middle and plant it so the cut side is facing downwards.”

Sticking a hand into his pocket, he rummaged around for a second before pulling out a familiar pocket knife. Your eyes flashed with recognition as he flipped the blade open and sliced through the potato with ease.

“Is that,” you began slowly, your tone tentative and gentle, “my pocket knife? From when we first met?”

Technoblade’s hands faltered as he sliced, his gaze flickering to you with a bashful look. “It’s—um, yeah. Does… does that bother you?”

You immediately shook your head, waving your hands in front of you. “No, not at all! I-I was just wondering. I haven’t seen it in a while, that’s all.”

He lowered his chin, and you could have sworn his cheeks were pink. “I’ve been taking good care of it,” he admitted quietly, his gaze not meeting yours. “It’s important to me.”

You blinked, your heart beating faster in your chest. “It is?” you whispered.

He nodded. “It is.”

You wanted to curl up into a ball and squeal. It only took two simple words from him to send you into a flurry of awkward smiles and blushing whines. You couldn’t believe just how far gone you were.

Technoblade stretched a hand toward you, half of the potato he cut clutched between his fingers. “Here. You try planting one.”

With a shaky hand, you gently pulled the potato from his hands, nearly flinching at the feeling of his skin brushing against yours. Carefully, you reached over and set the potato face down like he had instructed. You pointed your hand toward the pile of dirt lying just beside the hole, about to start covering the potato when his arm shot out in front of you.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, making you freeze in place. “You don’t have gloves on. I don’t want your hands to get dirty.”

You sent him a small smile, waving a hand dismissively at him. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”

He didn’t budge. “Please. Let me.”

That fuzzy feeling was back, and you pulled back. “Okay,” you whispered, your stomach swarming with butterflies as you watched him cover your planted potato with his hands. For someone who made a lot of jokes regarding human ethics, he was far more caring than he let on.

“Y’know,” you said softly, glancing over at him, “it’s really cool watching you do this, even if Tommy thinks it’s boring.” A small smile flitted across your face. “There are all these specific conditions that you have to know to have the most efficient farm with the best percent yield of potatoes—it’s honestly kind of surreal just how much brainpower actually goes into farming.”

Technoblade stared at you, his eyes reflecting something thoughtful and warm, and another thought popped into your head. You felt your cheeks begin to grow warm at the words swirling around your head. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you opened your mouth, again.

“I-I, um,” you began shakily, suddenly finding the scuff mark on your shoe very interesting, “I really hope you know how smart we think you really are. How smart I know you are. Because you are. Smart, that is.”

You must have been trembling, you could almost feel it. Why was it so hard to put your feelings into words? At this rate, you were never going to be able to confess how you felt. Just how much longer could you drag this out fo—

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. You turned your head, your lips parting as you looked at him in surprise. The moment his soft gaze met yours, a spark of electricity ran through your veins, and you shivered for an entirely different reason.

“Thank you,” he murmured, tilting his head at you. “I appreciate it.”

Suddenly, he squinted his eyes at you, his carmine gaze narrowing. “Oh wait, you’ve got something on your face,” he murmured, inching closer in to take a better look.

“Oh,” you said, a hand immediately darting up to your cheek, “that’s probably just some dust or soot or something. You know, from the mines.” You wiped at your face with the back of your hand, embarrassment shooting up your spine knowing that you probably looked dumb. “Did I get it?”

He frowned, pulling off his gloves as he leaned closer. “No, here let me just—”

Suddenly, his hand was on your face, your cheek held gently in his palm. Your heart came barreling to a stop, your entire body freezing like ice.

He was so close.

The pads of his finger were warm and calloused, yet they held a certain softness to him as his thumb slowly swiped just under her eye, careful to brush away the dirt that marred your face. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you found yourself unable to look away from him, hyperaware of the goosebumps that shot up your sides as his gaze met yours. A prince—he really did look like a prince.

For a moment, the two of you simply gazed at one another, a silent question hanging over you.

Before you could stop yourself, you opened your mouth.

“Can I say something kind of crazy?” you whispered.

“Of course,” he whispered, not moving his gaze from yours for even a heartbeat.

You sucked in a deep breath, screwing your eyes shut. “I…” You swallowed. “I really, really want to kiss you, right now.”

A moment of silence passed, and you held your breath, tension digging itself into your shoulders. Oh, I’m totally about to get rejected. This was such a bad idea. What was I even thinki—

“Can—” He started then stopped, and you could have sworn his cheeks were pink. “Can I say something even crazier?”

You heart leapt. “Yeah, totally,” you breathed.

He turned back to look at you, and you felt something deep in your chest click. “I really, really want to kiss you, too.”

Your eyes flew wide, and you couldn’t stop the giddy grin forming on your face. Almost imperceptibly, Technoblade dipped his head down close to yours, his crimson eyes darting across your face as he took in your every feature. As he leaned closer toward you, a question silently flashes in his gaze.

Can I…?

You smiled and nodded oh-so subtly, just for him to see.

Yes, yes, yes.

Ever so slowly, he leaned down toward you, and you felt your eyelids flutter shut. Just then, his lips met yours, soft and tentative like a deer taking its first, shaky steps. Electric ran down your spine at his velvet touch, your hands reaching up to wrap around his neck and touch his cherry blossom pink hair. His crown tumbled to the ground off his head, rolling a few times before coming to a full stop, but neither of you particularly noticed, far too enraptured with one another to care.

This was everything you could have possibly asked for.

A moment later, you pulled apart, gasping for air as the two of you gazed into each other’s eyes. His hair had been mussed by your touch, his lips parted and puffy from the kiss.

You didn’t think he could look any more princely, but he still managed to prove you wrong.

Clearing your throat, you cast eyes away in shy embarrassment. “I feel like I should also clarify that this means I like you,” you added in a rush, fidgeting with your hands. “Like, way more than I thought I could ever like a person.”

Technoblade let out a sigh of relief, lips curling at the corners. “Oh, that’s good. I like you, too.” Your heart did a backflip in your chest, shouting in celebration as he added, “I was sort of thinking we were just gonna kiss and never talk about it, again.”

You shot him a quizzical look. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.”

He sent you a crooked smile, but his gaze was fond. “Only kind of.”

You weren’t quite sure how many minutes passed in comfortable silence, both of you simply basking in the other’s warm presence. It was nice—this was nice. You wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while longe—

“—y it, Tommy, just say it!”

Your eyes shot wide open in panic. Across from you, Technoblade’s expression mirrored your own.

They were back.

“I’m telling you it’s okay, Tommy—you can call me ‘Wilby’ if you want to!”

Flailing your arms in a panic, you immediately began to backpedal to the other side of the room, Technoblade picking up his shovel and beginning to shovel as fast as he could.

“You’re still going off about this shit? Jesus Christ, I don’t want to call you ‘Wilby’, oh my fucking go—”

Wilbur crooned as they stepped into the garden room, “Aww, Tommy, my little gremlin.”

“Shut the fuck up, Wilbu—”

“B-Back so soon?” you prompted, pretending to have been looking at the potato field with great focus as you turned to face them.

Wilbur turned away from Tommy, the smile sliding off his face. He nodded with a sigh, adjusting the pack on his back. “We almost got to the portal, but Antfrost saw us, so we had to book it.”

Technoblade paused his movements, deadpanning with an unimpressed tone. “Tragic.”

Tommy scowled at him. “Don’t sound so cocky, bitch. You didn’t have to outrun like, half of the SMP all the way back here without getting tracked.” Suddenly his gaze shot to the ground, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “And why’s your fuckin’ crown on the ground?” he muttered, snatching it from the dusty floor and tossing it back over to Technoblade.

“No reason,” you said half a beat too quickly.

Wilbur’s eyes flitted back forth between you and Technoblade, taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and Technoblade’s disheveled hair. Then, a sly, scheming smile crept onto his face. You gulped.

Oh, he totally knew.

“Tommy,” he said, the shit-eating grin still plastered to his face, “how do you feel about going on another trip with me?”

Tommy’s head whipped around, his eyes swimming with confusion. “Another trip?” he parroted.

Wilbur nodded, still smiling. “Yep. Another trip. Let’s get going, yeah? I’ve got something wonderful in mind.”

Before Tommy could even react, Wilbur had grabbed onto the handle of his pack, dragging him back and up the stairs. “Wilbur! What the fuck? Where are we even fucking going?”

“On a trip!” Wilbur sang as he trudged up the stairs with Tommy in tow. Throwing one last glance over his shoulder, he sent you a knowing wink. “You two have fun, now.”

You gaped at him as he walked off, Tommy still kicking at his heels when they vanished from sight. A moment passed in silence before you turned to look at Technoblade, again.

“He knows,” you whispered, half in awe and half in horror.

Technoblade grimaced back at you. “Oh, he absolutely does.”

A beat of silence fell over you. Your eyes locked onto his carmine ones, and something seemed to click just then, a smile crossing both of your faces.

Indeed, Wilbur had just provided you with the perfect opportunity.

Who were the two of you to not take it?

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Why Couldn’t it Have Been Me?

Part 2

Paring: Wilbur Soot x reader (past), Ghostbur x reader

Disclaimer: This contains major spoilers for Tommyinnit’s 4/29 lore stream

Warnings: swearing, violence, death, near death, cheating, 4/29 lore stream, grief, blood, injury, panic attack

Word count: 6,737

(A/N): So in this, you’re Schlatt’s twin and Puffy’s your older sister. Also, sorry for any mistakes, I typed a good 2/3 of this on my phone

This was your own personal hell: being trapped within cement walls with your ex fiance, your asshole of a brother, and a Dream wannabe that seemed to never lose any energy. Your life was like a trope in a novel alive you would’ve liked, however being cursed to live in it made you absolutely loathe any and all mention of it.

Alive you would’ve killed to hang out with your brother again, not the one that turned to the bottle. Alive you would’ve craved the sweet melodies that streamed from Wilbur’s mouth. You would’ve swooned and maybe, just maybe, you would’ve forgiven him. Alive you would’ve perhaps liked this ‘Mexican Dream’ guy, you would’ve perhaps become the best of friends.

However you despised the three locked up with you with your whole heart.

Your ex fiance was someone you adored. Hell, you even idolized him when you were alive. The Wilbur you knew was sweet, loving, attentive, and just all around someone that you swooned over. You could still remember how your heart exploded when he first asked you out under the setting sun by the ocean. You remembered every song he's written for you, every word and rhythm by heart, even after all these years.

You remembered how you felt your heart completely shatter when you found the songs he had in his drafts for someone that wasn't you. Someone by the name of 'Sally'. After a heated argument you had broken up with him, taking the engagement ring off from your finger and throwing it deep into the ocean. You stayed on L'Manberg's side even after all that, too loyal and proud towards the country you helped forge to drop it. You wouldn't let some stupid boy or rabid tyrants prevent you from raising your beautiful nation up from the ashes.

That had been your downfall. You should've listened to Puffy and left the country behind when you had the chance, now you paid the ultimate price for your deep rooted loyalty and devotion towards independence. And your sacrifice didn't even matter in the end! Your deranged ex blew it all to smithereens. If you didn't despise him before, you absolutely did after your dumbass twin told you about his little 'escapades' while you were gone.

Every little thing Wilbur did, no matter how small it was, made you hate him even more. Every time he would shuffle those damned cards, it made you want to rip them to shreds and throw them across the train tracks. Every time he would sing or even breathe, you wanted to strangle him. You were absolutely certain that Schlatt felt the same.

Oh, your twin was a real card. Always boasting about how his horns were bigger than yours (who even cares anymore? Yours grew in first anyways), telling the others about your shortcomings through crude jokes, even going as far as fighting you through headbutting; you could still feel the pain of being beaten to death before respawning immediately. Schlatt hadn’t known that you respawn even in the afterlife, so you knew he was serious about killing you. You just wanted Puffy, she was far more tolerable than your twin.

The rustling of his suit jacket and his small grunts and pants resonated within the walls as he did various forms of exercising. You now knew about all of the differing variations of a pushup and you hated yourself for listening to his explanations. He would beg you, Mexican Dream, and Wilbur to stand on his back while he did his endless routines. The only one to readily take him up on that offer was Mexican Dream.

That man was arguably the only one you slightly tolerated, and you said that very lightly. He was still annoying as all hell, but he was a new face. Well, one that you didn’t know well enough to have a grudge against while you were alive. It was slightly refreshing, in a sense. When he first got here, his songs, stories, and humor gave you a nice break away from Wilbur’s depressing songs and Schlatt’s crude jokes. However when you spend eleven years trapped in a cage with one person, everything they do becomes the bane of your existence.

You were running out of things that kept you sane in this dump. You've read the same novel, counted the same ceiling and floor tiles (32 ceiling tiles and 57 floor tiles exactly), traced the same cracks in the walls, temporarily killing the same cellmates, you've done anything and everything that this cesspool had to offer. You've done everything billions of times over, a never ending cycle of monotony.

Tommy joining your group of miserable has-beens was perhaps the highlight of your fifteen, almost sixteen, years spent in this shithole. Though he finally dropped the brave facade and showed just how broken down he was after everything he’s been through, having him around was the saving grace to your sanity. He told you how your sister was, how your nephews were, and most importantly what you missed. You knew about all of the events leading up to Mexican Dream's death, but you were left in the dark with everything past that. Ender, you missed so much since you died; It baffled you how much you missed.

When the train actually stopped at your cell instead of just passing by and it's doors opened, you were just expecting another poor soul to be dropped off here. You could imagine everybody's surprise when none other than Dream stepped out of those doors. The nephew that had betrayed you without a second thought, that had murdered you, that had your severed head displayed on his mantle (you weren't sure the truth of that last statement, Tommy has a habit of over exaggerating. Though, Schlatt did say that your body was found with a missing head when you first forced him to tell you what you missed). Tommy talked to you about how he died only once, so you knew just what your nephew has been up to. It infuriated you knowing that your adult nephew was manipulating and abusing this young teenager.

While you were releasing your pent up frustrations on the masked man, he merely brushed past you and drug Tommy into the train by the arm. You could remember Wilbur banging on the doors begging for Dream to return his little brother and his angered screams echoing down the railways as the train sped off back towards the land of the living.

Lucky Tommy, he got to live out the rest of his life and actually age. You and your crew of intolerable jesters were stuck together once again.

Everybody was silent for a few months, reeling at the newly discovered fact that Dream could actually resurrect people. During those three months, they were quiet and tolerable. In a way, the talks that came out of it was like one of those family therapy sessions your older sister would hold in the living room (you remembered how she would grab you and Schlatt by the horns if either one of you refused to go). You would kill to attend one of those therapy sessions again, and this is the closest you were going to get to it.

You all talked about the things you regretted most while you were alive. Mexican Dream's was that he didn't protect his girlfriend Mamacita well enough. Schlatt's was choosing alcohol and power over his family (tears were especially shed over Tubbo, he really did regret abandoning him to be raised by you). Yours was that you were too loyal to a cause that would be absolutely decimated a short while after you sacrificed everything for it. Surprisingly, Wilbur's was that he had hurt you.

He had begged and groveled for forgiveness, telling you that he just didn't feel that special connection with you anymore. That didn't take away from the fact that he was seeing another while you two were still dating and that he blew up your life's work. He had stolen everything from you, and you would never forgive him for that.

After you made your thoughts on him completely clear, he had started treating you like you treated him in the last few months. Tension was building up between you two that had laid dormant for thirteen and a half years like a rope pulled taut about to snap.

Everybody had slowly returned to their annoying selves slowly but surely. Schlatt resumed his workout routine, Mexican Dream had started loudly singing and ranting about Mamacita's everlasting beauty again, and Wilbur eventually started up his solitaire and songwriting once again.

The three of them made you want to rip off your twisting horns and shove them in your ears in hopes of muffling them, but you knew that whomever put you here would restore your hearing and make your horns regrow. You knew that first hand after you spent a couple of years alone in this hellhole; breaking your horns off by repeatedly banging your head against the dull stone walls in a manic state was never fun. The regeneration of the keratin only slightly stung, it was like you were a kid and they were growing in for the first time again.

You felt your eye twitch as Wilbur sang about that damned train for the umpteenth time since he arrived. It’s always ‘train this' and ‘train that' and quite frankly you were sick of it. You were sick of him.

“Shut the fuck up about that damned train,” Schlatt seethed. You never once thought you would ever agree with your twin, but here you were nodding in agreement and shooting a glare at Wilbur’s direction. The brunet merely stopped his singing and reshuffled his cards, the sound making an ugly cacophony and grating at your ears.

“Not my fault you two don’t want to talk to me. I’m just making due with what I’ve been given.” He dealt the cards out in piles and started yet another game of solitaire. Seriously, how many games of solitaire can one play before they lose it? You supposed that you’d find out soon, Wilbur has been playing that monotonous card game nonstop for thirteen and a half years.

“Yeah, let the hombre chill! I like his music.” The masked man reached up to stroke his goatee, the scratching sound further penetrating your focus on your book.

Everything was quiet before Mexican Dream's voice pierced it, "hey, did I ever tell you guys how beautiful my Mamacita was?"

"You told us millions of times, fuckface. You narrate entire love letters daily, so how could we not know how 'beautiful' she was?" You complained, not once looking up from your book. Schlatt snorted to himself and returned to his workout. Mexican Dream crossed his arms in anger, cursing you out under his breath. Wilbur merely glanced at you and rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm tired of your bitchy attitude. Let him talk about Mamacita, it's not his fault every time you think you love someone it fails."

Your grip on your book tightened impossibly. If it were physically possible, the book would be crumbling to dust in your voice grip. You practically see red as you slowly dog-eared the worn page you were on and put your book down.

"Oh shit," you heard Schlatt mumble and move away from you, Mexican Dream following suit. When you both were alive, your anger was always something you knew Schlatt feared. However, you knew that he's never seen you this angry; nobody has. The majority of what you've been holding in for almost fourteen years is about to be unleashed.

"You know what I'm sick of, Wilbur?"

"Oh, do enlighten us."

"I'm sick of each and every single one of you. You three have been absolutely intolerable ever since you arrived. I was doing just fine alone and the universe just had to fuck everything up for me, just like it always does."

"There you go again," Wilbur laughed sardonically, "making everything about yourself." He gathered his cards and shuffled them repeatedly.

"I make everything about myself?! Do you even hear yourself? Mr. Oh-I'm-such-a-disappointment-to-Philza, you wallow in self pity twenty-four seven! You fucking write every single song about yourself!”

"I didn't want to come here, okay?! I didn't think it was gonna be like this! God, I might as well be in hell with you here."

"Believe me, my hell started fourteen years ago when you guys started showing up," you growled out, your ears flattening to the sides of your skull.

"Have you ever stopped to think that you're our hell? All you've done since we came here was complain and be a massive douche to all of us." He fluttered through the deck more and more as the argument escalated, the noise making you want to scream until you tasted blood.

"I'm the one that's in the wrong here? You fucked up my entire life. He," you pointed at Schlatt, "keeps beating me to death. And he," you jutted your chin towards Mexican Dream, "never shuts the hell up… Would you stop with that damn deck?! You're literally so fucking annoying."

He narrowed his eyes, "make me."

A mixture of an animalistic growl and a guttural scream left your lips as you charged at him, your head tilted downwards so he could feel the brunt of your horns. He moved out of the way just in time, the side of your horn brushing against his arm. You crashed head first into the stone wall before you stabilized yourself and looked at the brunet with seething hatred.

He was staring at you in shock, "how're you-" You used his shock to your advantage, throwing a right hook at his face. His head whipped to the side and his body followed, sending him to the ground in a heap.

"How am I still conscious? I'm a ram hybrid, dumbass. What'd you expect?" You huffed angrily before you pried the cards out of his hand and stalked over to the tracks.

He scrambled up to stop you, but before he could even reach you, you held the deck over the tracks and looked down at him. You could just imagine how your horizontal pupils were blazing with fury.

You reveled in the betrayal and animosity gleaming in his eyes as you dangled the thing he held dearest in this hell over the railroads. If you were to drop them, he'd never be able to see them again.

"We promised not to touch belongings on our first day here!" He yelled at you, his hands wrung in front of him nervously hiding the slight tremor. "Our first day here?" You scoffed, "the last time I checked, I was here for two years before any of you showed up." You gestured around the room in one angry swipe, the cards slipping slightly with how sweaty your hands were. It was then that you saw the fear in Schlatt's eyes. Good, that bastard should be scared of you. "If anything, you all are in my domain."

Wilbur flinched at the sight of the cards slowly slipping out of your hand, his breath hitching and panic stricken across his features. Mexican Dream stood up from his place and put his hands up. He was slowly approaching you like you were a cornered wild animal, making sure that you saw his every move.

He nervously chuckled, "let's just put the cards down and have a nice talk. Doesn't that sound better than this, mi amigo?"

You shook the cards once again, taking in Wilbur's silent anguish with glee. "I'm not your friend, I'm anything but. Don't tell me what to fucking do or else that picture of Mamacita is the next to go."

"...Okay, you're in charge, man. Do what you want." He reluctantly sat back down next to Schlatt. The ram was watching in fear, yet it looked like he was entertained with what was happening. You couldn't blame him, the last interesting thing that happened was three full months ago when Tommy was taken. That and you probably looked feral at the moment.

"You understand that if you drop those, they're lost forever right?"

You threw your head back and laughed, "of course I know, why do you think I only have one sock? I already tried that shit out before you came." You hummed to yourself in thought, then grinned. Wilbur was going to love this.

While you shuffled the deck, you kept a close eye on the movement happening inside the cell. Another perk to being a ram hybrid was that you had a nearly 360 degree scope of everything around you. The only movement happening was the panicked breaths from Wilbur, good. You huffed in amusement, "alright Wilbur, let's do a card trick. I'd ask you to pick a card, any card, but I don't want to risk you fucking shit up again. So, I'm just going to draw for you." You drew a card from the middle of the deck and showed it to him. "The eight of clubs, how fitting."

"(Y/n), I don't know what you're getting at, but if you don't give me those cards right now-"

"Shut it, I'm not done. I'm going to shuffle this back into the deck, watch the hands." You kept eye contact with him as you shuffled the cards rigorously, the card you pulled long since hidden with the slight of a hand. After a bit of shuffling and reshuffling, you had sneakily put the card between the two halves and bridged them until the cards were in one pile with the eight of clubs on top.

You chuckled and pulled the top card, once again showing it to him. "Is this your card?"

He nodded slightly, never once taking his eyes off from the deck. "Yes, now give it back to me!" The angry and anxious undertones were like music to your ears.

You tapped your chin in thought, "hm, I don't think I will. You've taken so much from me, it's only fair that I get some revenge." Without another word, you threw the cards behind your head and smiled widely at the sound of the fluttering down to the tracks.

Wilbur launched himself forward with a frantic yell, his hands flailing to catch all of the cards before they were lost forever. He only succeeded in catching a few.

His breath shuddered as he stared at the three cards in his hand: the five of diamonds, the four of spades, and the seven of hearts. The fate of the universe was on your side for once, perhaps preternaturally so.

"You- do you realize what you just did?!" He spun around to face you. If humans could froth at the mouth, a full waterfall would be streaming through his gritted teeth. His eyes held the rage of a man that had just lost everything in one singular instant, the resentment swirling in his dark brown orbs. Several veins were bulging in his face and neck, painting the skin in a red hue.

You walked over to your book and plopped yourself down. "Yeah," you said with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders. You opened up your book and started reading it again, leaving the man to his grief.

Everything was quiet once more much to your delight. Though you read this book from cover to cover thousands of times, enough to know most of the words by heart, you were never able to fully enjoy and immerse yourself in it with them around. You took this time to reclaim your designated corner and spend some quality time reading.

You spent hours with your nose buried deep in your book, savoring the peace. That was until it was snatched out of your hands and ripped away from you. You looked up in slight shock at the sight of Wilbur snapping it shut and walking over to the tracks.

No. No. Nononono he can’t. That was the only thing keeping you sane. He can't just get rid of it when he's done so much towards you when you were alive.

A wail left your mouth as you tackled him to the ground, your arms wrapped around his midsection. He crashed to the ground with a grunt, his forehead smacking against the painted yellow stone. You straddled his back and ripped the book away from him, throwing it across the room and away from the tracks.

You grabbed a fist full of his hair after yanking off his beanie and tossing it into oblivion with his precious cards. You pulled his head up and leaned close to his ear, "you try that shit again and your hat and cards won't be the only things lost to the void." Venom was seeping through your every word, "do you understand me?"

He merely jerked his head to the side, colliding it with your nose and mouth. You shouted in surprise and let him go in favor of holding your aching nose. You could feel the warmth of the blood pouring from it. Through teary eyes, you looked up at Wilbur as he grabbed your book and flung it against the wall of the opposite side of the tracks. You scampered to the edge and watched in horror as it disappeared into the void.

Without warning, you were forced to the ground, a hand holding you by a horn and a knee between your shoulder blades. You struggled before a dark chuckle was heard, "if you keep moving, you'll slip! Do you really want that?" You begrudgingly stopped, realizing that he had all the power in this situation. If he wanted to, he could just slide you off from the platform and toss you away like throwing a piece of paper into the trash.

"Good, you're not as stupid as you were earlier today." He slid you forward, holding your upper body over the tracks by the horn. You came face to face with the swirling abyss that was the void, small shapes appearing from your eyes adjusting to the sudden lack of visual stimulant. Your breathing picked up as he lowered you slightly, "you don't wanna do this."

"No, I do. Thirteen and a half years of having to be around you was hell, but the shit you pulled today just put the icing on the cake. Do you have any last words before you go?"

You grunted as he shook your head slightly, a slight pain coming from the base of your horn. "Fuck you."

"How appropriate, now let's see if you'll come back this time. It'll be our fun little science experiment!"

He dropped your horn without a care in the world, sending you plummeting to your demise. A terrified scream ripped it's way out of your throat and you screwed your eyes tightly shut in preparation for the void. Your body came to a jerking halt as you held your breath, preparing for… whatever awaited you. However, nothing came.

You cracked open an eye only to be met with the uncanny inkyness, the invisible mist freezing your face and its frostbitten arms opened wide for you. But you never fell into its embrace.

Instead, you were pulled back onto the platform. You laid on your stomach with your horn supporting your head staring at the wall, tracing every single nook and cranny of the bricks. Your chest heaved as you greedily gasped for air. You never thought you'd be so relieved to see the cement walls you've been trapped in for over a decade and a half.

You were once again pulled up into a now sitting position and leaned against the wall, your back touching the cool cement. Across from you, you saw Mexican Dream pinning a struggling Wilbur down to the floor. Wilbur's crazed eyes met you, piercing through your very being. However, that didn't affect you in the slightest; you almost were just wiped from existence completely, you stared into the abyss and it stared back at you.

You felt… strange, to say the least. While icy fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, you felt warmth blossoming in you at the same time. It was like the void was an actual person, politely giving you some form of relief from the hell you've been subjected to for over a decade and a half. It was so welcoming, not terrifying like you initially thought it was. When your fingertips grazed its surface it felt freezing to the touch, yet you felt the staticky power it was showing you. In that split moment of touching it, you had already accepted the power it held over you.

A hand softly slapped your cheek, "c'mon, (y/n). Talk to me." Your eyes drifted lazily to your twin. He was extremely pale, his eyes frantically searching your face for any sign of responsiveness. When you looked at him, he visibly relaxed. "It was so… so beautiful, Schlatt."

"Yeah, what the actual fuck did you just say? You almost just- just died for good dumbass." He looked at you incredulously, you could just see the cogs in his brain working hard to process what the hell he was seeing.

You looked back at Wilbur, he had stopped struggling slightly and was instead looking at you with a hint of confusion shining through the crazed daze. Mexican Dream tilted his head, the mask skewing slightly to the side of his face. "Thank you, Wilbur. You've shown me that there's… there's more to this hellhole than suffering. There's beauty in the darkness." His struggling had come to a complete halt, now staring at you with the most confusion you've ever seen from him. You also saw a very small hint of fear from deep within his irises.

A calloused hand gripped your chin and forced you to look back at your twin. "What are you on," he hissed lowly, "the stuff that's comin outta your mouth right now is actually batshit insane. He almost just permanently murked you and you're fucking thanking him."

"I haven't felt this at ease in nearly two decades. I feel ethereal, Schlatt, and it's all thanks to him." You let your eyes drift over to Wilbur. Giving him a content smile, you nodded your thanks at him.

The next few days went by tensely for the others, eyeing your every move and keeping you away from the ledge. You had only peered over the ledge once since then, it was just so alluring to you. It was nothing, yet everything at the same time. Mexican Dream had pulled you back to the opposite end of the room by your horns. The part that disturbed the three men was that you said absolutely nothing about it. You didn't even struggle against it, you just laid limp and let it happen.

With each passing second you spent away from the void, the feeling of utter peace was rapidly draining from your body; instead being replaced by icy fear, paranoia, and the realization that you were almost completely swallowed whole by the void.

After coming back to your senses, you didn't allow anybody near you. Your instincts going haywire and screaming that they were going to hurt you if they came close. The last time Schlatt tried touching you, you damn near took his finger off. They didn't bother trying to approach you anymore, instead glancing at you from the corners of their eyes. Wilbur was perhaps the one you feared the most, you knew that if he didn't hesitate to toss you away the first time, he would surely do it a second time. He spent most of his time staring at you, you didn't know if he was zoned out or not.

Everybody was against you, you knew it. You just knew it. They were plotting to toss you back into the void. That thing- or was it an entity? Whatever it was held a power over you that you didn't know was possible. That trance that it put you in, the craving you felt, was something that was repeating like a broken record in your mind. You could still feel the void calling out to you, it was terrifying.

You spent most of the time huddled in your corner staring at the fingers that had grazed the textured nothingness. You could still feel the buzzing and popping of the power on your fingertips, that inky residue staining your skin wouldn't come off. No matter how hard you scrubbed, scratched, or scraped, it would not leave your body. It was freezing.

The oncoming train screeching to a gradual stop was perhaps the only thing you fully acknowledged outside of your safety bubble in days. You watched in shock as it stopped at the platform. The doors opened with a fwoosh, fog pouring out onto the smooth stone floors.

Out stepped Dream, the smile etched into his cracked mask sent chills to your core. Next to him was… was another Wilbur? How in the name of Ender was that even possible?

This Wilbur was different though. This one was desaturated. This one didn't have an insane glint in his eyes, this one had grief shimmering in the tears that steamed on his cheeks. This one was broken compared to the well established man against the wall. This one was defenseless.

Dream shoved him to the center of the room, the man falling to his hands and knees. Sobs escaped his mouth as steam left his skin and drifted along the sides of his face before dissolving into the air.

"Got a new plaything for you guys, this one isn't as… fun as Wilbur is though." Dream's head turned towards you before it tilted. "What happened there? Did our dear little (y/n) get too close to the void?"

"They are none of your concern, pandejo," Mexican Dream seethed at his counterpart from his position next to the train. "Why are you even here, man?"

"Oh, I'm just here to make a trade. I'm afraid that I'll have to give you guys Ghostbur here in exchange for Wilbur."

Wilbur stared at him with pure hope and glee springing up in his eye for the first time in over a decade. "Really?"

Dream chuckled, "yes, really. What, do you really think I'd lie to you?"

"I don't know, ya smiley freak. You've been known to fuck people over." Schlatt scoffed, his ear flicking in annoyance.

"I'm telling the truth this time. Wilbur, come with me."

Stars shone in his eyes as he reveled in the sight of the open train doors. He followed the masked man with a skip in his step, ecstatic giggles leaving his mouth as he boarded.

Anger flooded you as you purse your lips together and you darted towards the train. The doors were closing already, if you could just-

The door shut with a clank, blocking you from freedom. Your clenched fists banged against the window, glowering at the sight of Wilbur's happiness and Dream looking at you with a wave.

"You fucking bastard! Take me, he doesn't deserve it! He threw his goddamned life away, you're wasting your time with him!" Your angry shouts were ignored by the two however as the train once again started moving with a small hiss.

A frustrated scream left your mouth as you pummeled the iron with your fists as it moved. If only you could find a train car to jump onto-

Now. You leapt from the platform towards the junction between two of the train cars. However, your leap of faith was set to a halt midair by Schlatt holding your upper arms. You thrashed against him, desperate to get back to the land of the living, desperate to leave this godforsaken hell called the afterlife, but once again, you were torn away from what you were trying to achieve.

You fell limp as you watched the last train car pass the platform and disappear down the tracks and into the void. The next possible time it would show it’s face would be in a few months if you were lucky. You let him take you back to your corner, your feet limply being drug against the floor. After you were plopped back down, you stared at the clone of your ex. You were pretty sure Dream said that his name was ‘Ghostbur’. What a strange name, yet you supposed that it was fitting for Wilbur’s apparition.

“Are ya done with your little ‘moment’, (y/n)?” Schlatt was kneeling in front of you, his hands prepared to grab you if you made a run for it. Though his tone was annoyed, you could detect the very small worried undertone of his voice.

You nodded and watched as he took a seat next to you, also staring at the newcomer. This is the closest he’s sat next to you in years.

“...What do you think of the clone over there?” You hummed to yourself, “he looks pathetic, but I think that might be the only thing he and Wilbur share.”

Mexican Dream took a seat next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. Normally, you would’ve shrugged him off, but you were too emotionally drained to do so. “Si, he does look kinda weak. But I think our new hombre here has promise.”

“Promise for what?” Schlatt snorted. Mexican Dream hesitated, “...I don’t know. This is gonna be interesting, mis amigos.”

“The party’s just begun, boys. Buckle up, this is gonna be a wild fucking ride.” You mused to them, unsure of what the future would hold with the newcomer. Though after a couple of years, you were sure you were going to hate him; that is if he’s nothing like his clone. Ender help you if he’s anything like Wilbur.

As you stared at the broken man, you couldn’t help but wonder: why did he get to go back? As far as you were concerned, psychopaths like him do not deserve a second chance at life. If anything, it should be you boarding that train. It should be you getting a second chance. He was the one that so readily threw his life away while you had yours ripped away from you.

One continuous thought was circling in your mind: why couldn’t it have been me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wrung your hands together as you anxiously waited for Tommy, Ghostbur, and Friend outside of Pandora’s Vault. Ranboo and Tubbo sat next to you in the grass, giving you silent comfort with their presence. You were mainly worried for your boyfriend, his worst fear was Dream using the resurrection book on him. You had calmed him down from a panic attack prior to meeting up with the teenagers, begging him to let you go in his place. Of course, Ghostbur being the caring and brave soul he was, wove you off and ensured that he’d be okay.

When you saw someone emerging from the portal, you leapt to your feet and steadied your head on your shoulders before you examined the people emerging. Except you only saw a human and a sheep, no ghost.

Tommy looked pale and on the verge of tears as he led Friend towards you. Before he spoke, he used his sleeve to wipe at his tears.

“Hey, Tommy! How did it- where’s Ghostbur?” The enderman hybrid stretched his usually slouched back to peer at the portal, keen eyes searching for any sign of movement.

“I think he’s dead… He’s dead!”

Tubbo tilted his head and looked up at the blond in confusion, “well, yeah. He’s a ghost. Of course he’s dead.” Ranboo nodded in agreement, “yeah, he can’t die again. That just isn’t possible.”

You said nothing (not like you could in the first place, your head wasn’t connected to your body), looking into Tommy’s eyes inquisitively. They were chock full of panic, grief, and fear, staring down at the lead in his clenched hands.

“No, no you don’t understand, it’s not that he’s dead… it’s that Wilbur’s back.”

“Hold on, the Wilbur that blew up L’Manberg? That Wilbur?” Ranboo peered down at him incredulously. “Yes! C’mon, he- we gotta get to L’Manberg.”

He spun around and led Friend towards L’Manberg, walking quickly with a purpose. You, Ranboo, and Tubbo followed. You hugged your head close to your chest, your eyes peeking over your arms. It was always something you’ve done whenever you were scared or worried about something. You heard stories about Wilbur from your nephew, if the stories of his insanity terrified you, you’d hate to see the man in person.

“I was about to kill Dream, and- and Ghostbur died. Dream revived Wilbur… Fuck!” Tommy walked faster, L’Manberg far off in the distance. With one hand, you grabbed the blond’s attention and finger spelled, ‘are you serious? He’s actually gone?’

“Yes! How many times do I have to explain this?! Ghostbur isn’t with us anymore and Wilbur’s back. Wilbur’s back and we’re absolutely fucked.” He turned on his heel and resumed his beeline towards the crater in the wall. No, he couldn’t be gone. This was just a cruel prank they were pulling on you, right?

Tubbo put a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving you a small sympathetic smile. You leaned into his touch slightly and carried on, stepping into the makeshift staircase behind Tommy.

You moved your arms to cover your eyes as you stepped aside to make room for the other two teenagers. You heard a voice; it sounded exactly like Ghostbur’s voice, yet it sounded... off. You however remained hopeful and uncovered your eyes.

The man that stood there certainly wasn’t your boyfriend. Everything about him was just so wrong. The emotion in his eyes, his clothing, his smile, his stance, his hair, everything. This was a completely different person. This was Wilbur Soot.

“Hello again.” His eyes flicked around your group, his gaze lingering on you for longer than the rest. You noticed that he was staring at your neck, but that was okay. You were used to it; everybody did that. What you weren’t used to was the revulsion that flashed in his eyes. The eyes that once lovingly stared at you and reassured you that he’d love you even with your… condition were now filled with disgust.

That was what broke you, the tears that you tried to hold in came streaming out like a waterfall. Stinging pain hit you as the water worked its way through the cloth of your uniform onto your arms, leaving steam floating upwards towards the cave ceiling. You phased through Ranboo’s body and made a mad dash towards your sister’s house. You needed her, you could feel a panic attack brewing inside you. Usually you would hate to be a bother to your older sister and Ghostbur would always calm you down, but now he’s…

You pushed that thought aside and focused completely on getting to Puffy’s house in the distance. You phased through the door without a thought to knock, frantically beginning your search for Puffy.

You looked everywhere, but you couldn’t find her. Unable to cope any longer, you fell to your knees in the middle of the living room and hugged your head to your chest, your face being pushed against your uniform. Your shoulders shook with silent painful sobs, the only sound in the room being the sizzling of your skin.

Why couldn’t it have been you? It should be Ghostbur standing there in that cavern, not Wilbur. This was completely your fault, you should’ve gone instead of him. You should’ve volunteered quicker than he did, you shouldn’t have let him talk you into it with his soothing words. Now because of your complete and utter cowardice, he was stuck in the afterlife once again. You were never going to see him any time soon. Your other half was ripped away from you because of your inaction.

Between sobs, your lips repeatedly formed the same phrase: why couldn’t it have been me?

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

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester @laura--444 @the-cult-classic-bitch @youngstarfishdinosaur @nottheotheruser @ohworm-writes @localwolfanon @realitycanbeajerk @v10dw4lk3r @esylwen @seraphsema @boiled-onionrings

GN reader taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@twitchchatvroom @parkeepingparker

#wilbur soot x reader #ghostbur x reader #jschlatt x reader #mexican dream x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #tw: swearing #tw: death #tw: near death #tw: blood #tw: panic attack #tw: violence #tw: injury #tw: grief

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

Little Fox

(C!Fundy x Reader)

Request 12: Hey if you're making a request, do you do c!Fundy? If so, can I get a Fundy x half fox shapeshifter!reader where fundy finds an injured full fox!reader, and takes her home to patch her up without knowing that she's a shifter ówò? Context, the reader can shift into three forms: full fox, half and half(fox legs, tail, ears, fangs), and fully human. Thank you have a blessed day!!!

Requested By: Anonymous

Moving away from L’manburg or what was once L’manburg was one of the best decisions Fundy has ever made. Did it get lonely from time to time, sure, but at least he was finally at peace. He was away from his ghost of a father and away from the drama of everyone else fighting and the looming sense of death that lingered over everyone that lived in the once-prosperous nation. It was quiet and he was happy to be left alone, well, mostly alone. There was one exception, a snow-white fox that trotted around his house from time to time, curious (e/c) watching him with intent. He had always felt a connection to foxes considering he was part fox, he hated seeing them hurt or starving or treated with disrespect, so he kept them around. However the white fox didn’t seem to pay him any mind other than silently watching and wandering around his home, he started placing food out for the fox. This went on for a few months until one night something felt off. Fundy kept glancing out the window, almost like he was expecting to see someone but no one popped up until he remembered his little buddy. He didn’t know why it sent him so on edge, it was just a random arctic fox maybe it was the way the food was left untouched or the pull he felt to go the woods, but he grabbed his coat and stepped into the forest.

The first thing he noticed was the small animal prints littering the snow, there seemed to be some sort of scuffle. Worry entered his veins and his ears pressed flat against his head, he journeyed deeper into the forest and noticed little droplets of blood. Fundy adjusted his hat nervously and followed the blood droplets, crumpled on the ground in front of his feet was a blood-stained fox. The once pure white coat of the fox was stained with red splotches a big gash was torn from its side, Fundy felt nauseous. The wind seemed to blow against his exposed ears, almost urging him to pick up the fox and take it home. He reached out and picked the fox up in his arms and held it close, the wind blew again, his eyes widened a little in surprise, the wind seemed to whisper a thank you.

Back at the house he laid the fox down on his couch and began to patch up her wounds. Hopefully, she wouldn’t attack him in the morning, be too freaked out, he wrapped the bandages around the wound stopping the flow of blood. He just prayed his foxy friend would be alive come the morning light. Fundy flicked the lights off and went to sleep in his bedroom, even though all the windows were shut and locked tight he still felt that odd breeze tickle the tufts of his ears. ‘Take good care of her’ it seemed to whisper, his heart thudded in his chest as he snuggled under the covers. The morning sun streamed through his windows, blinding the hybrid slightly, he groaned loudly and sat up in bed. He ran his sharp nails through his hair tussling it a little bit, trying to calm the rat’s nest down. As snapped to consciousness fully when he noticed footsteps coming from his living room, very human-sounding footsteps. Fundy tensed and hopped out of bed storming into the room, a dagger in hand. He let out a startled shriek seeing a beautiful half-naked young woman standing in the middle of the room. However, he couldn’t even focus on that, he was more focused on the snow-white fox ears that sat atop her head, the fluffy tail behind her, and the fox-like legs.

She was like him.

“Fundy right?” She sent him a crooked smile, sharp fangs very visible, making him feel all types of things. “Names, (Y/n) and you saved my life last night.”

“You- Fox?! but- human-” His hands tangled in his orange hair mentally trying to come to terms with the fact that he had probably saved a forest spirit. “No shirt!” he sputtered feeling soft hands take his own, he noticed a smile on her lips, their eyes locked together,

“I’m a shifter. A pleasure to officially meet you.” He felt you squeeze his palms and he swallowed thickly,

“Shifter?”

He watched you nod tail swishing from side to side, you were very happy to be talking to him it seemed, Fundy felt oddly honored. “I have three forms! Full fox, half fox, and fully human,” You explained holding up three fingers on your hand. “Usually full fox is easier but as you can see,” You motioned to the bandages covering your chest, “it’s not without risks.”

“Hold the phone you’re telling me the fox I’ve been feeding-”

“Yup! That was me!” You giggled as his cheeks went red, “I appreciated it.”

“I gave you dog food! I’m so sorry, oh my god!” He sputtered out completely mortified by the situation. You let out a roaring laugh, it was very reminiscent of that of a fox but he supposed that, that made sense. He watched you dip your head and nuzzle underneath his chin, once again he felt his entire face burn red, your ears were so soft, the fur tickling his chin.

“It’s okay, I didn’t eat any of that. Just pretended.” You reassured lifting your head to once again meet his eyes. “Soooo...you gonna tell me your name? Or should I just call you handsome?” He felt the blush spread down onto his neck,

Oh no, she was so cute.

“Fundy! I’m Fundy.” He nodded more stiffly than he wanted too suddenly very aware of how close the both of them were to one another. You blinked after a few minutes peaking around his shoulder, oh shit was his tail wagging? A bright smile spread across your cheeks “Laugh it up okay! Not every day I get to have a cute fox girl nuzzle against me alright!” Your ears fell flat against your head, he watched pink spread across your cheeks, score.

“Cute?” You meekly whispered you pulled away a little to grab at your tail shyly, “Thank you.”

He was going to die, you were going to be the death of him.

After that first encounter, you, the real you, had become a staple of his life. You had moved with him a few days after showing your more human form to the hybrid. You knew how to cook which made him swoon, it tasted divine, he was tired of being alone. You made him feel like he still had hope, you were his family now even after only knowing you for such a short amount of time. There was an odd sort of bond the two of you had, he was happy to have someone understand him, on a level that no one has ever been able to before, especially not his father. Days rolled into weeks and weeks turned into months, it was about eight months in when Fundy finally confessed to you.

You’d spent the day away from home, in your full fox form, saying you needed to stretch your legs and Fundy let you go. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a mess all day worrying about your well-being all day, he barely could get anything done, so when he saw your white fur streak through the trees that night he knew you were home. He ran out onto the stones of the path and called out your name, he watched your ears twitch and turned towards him. He felt his tail begin wagging ecstatically and he could see yours begin to do the same, you charged headfirst towards him shifting as you run, as you arrived he held out his arms and you jumped right on in them. He felt your arms wrap around his neck as he lifted you into the air. He spun you around as he laughed,

“I missed you, Dee!” You purred out happily leaning back a little bit in his arms, he still held you above the ground.

“I missed you too Dearheart,” Fundy whispered looking up at your sparkling eyes it was then, with your white fur shining in the moonlight that he realized he was in love with you. “(Y/n)?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” You breathed out softly, cheeks pink, ears twitching, “I’d like that very much.”

So, he did.

Two years being together of being together was finally when Wilbur- or ghostbur- decided to visit his son. You were outside in the garden, tending to some of Fundy’s vegetables deadset on using some of the fresh ones to make soup for tonight. You were in your human form so you didn’t get your white fur covered in dirt, so you didn’t hear the ghost coming close to the house until he was leaning over your shoulder.

“Hello!”

You screamed like a little kit throwing your basket through the ghost who shivered at the foreign feeling.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” The ghost apologized adjusting the round glasses on his face. “I heard my son Fundy lives around here but I must be mistaken!”

“Are you...you’re Wilbur aren’t you?”

“Oh! You’ve heard of me! Was it my music, please say yes!” The ghost’s eyes seemed to sparkle with hope, he shrunk a little as he watched you shake your head, “oh…”

“I’m-”

“(Y/n)! I heard you scream, you alright?” Fundy peeked his head out the door eyes going big seeing his dead father standing beside you. Wilbur looked between the both of you before a tiny smirk spread across his face,

“Ohhhhhh, I see now.” Wilbur nodded watching his son’s face go red, “My little champion is all grown up! With a beautiful human to mind you!”

“Er...not exactly.” You mumbled, allowing your ears and tail to pop up from your head, Wilbur’s jaw dropped in shock and awe.

“She’s like you!” Wilbur gaped reaching up to touch your ears, you flinched a little, and Fundy snarled at his father. “Sorry, sorry,” He pulled his hand back with a sheepish smile Fundy finally walked over to the both of you, pushing you behind him only slightly.

“What’re you doing here dad?” His voice was gruffer than you’ve ever heard it, his tail was puffed up in a way you’ve never seen before from your boyfriend.

He was on edge.

Wilbur shuffled a little fumbling with a piece of something blue in his hands. “I just wanted to check up on my son. No one’s heard from you for a while we’re all getting a little worried. I love you so-”

“Dad.” He groaned pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose pinching it, “look. I appreciate you’re all worried but I’m happier here.”

“But you’re all alone out here! It’s not good for anyone’s health, especially not a young fox!”

“Excuse you?” Your eyes narrowed in offense, “I lived out here all my life.” You bristled in frustration, “I turned out fine.” Wilbur eyed you warily and Fundy squeezed your palm tightly, “I did!”

“I didn’t mean any offense. I’m just looking out for my son.”

“No offense but I think he can look after himself just fine.” You shot right back and Fundy covered up a surprised laugh, “So far so good. Plus he’s not alone, I’m with him.” You squeezed Fundy’s hand rather tightly, as Wilbur glanced at your intertwined hands.

“What she said.” Fundy nodded his head, “we have each other and that’s all we need. At least for right now. So try not to worry too much.” He waved his dad off, “Now if you don’t mind we have dinner to cook.” Wilbur gave a hesitant nod before turning back to look into your eyes,

“Don’t hurt him.”

“I don’t plan on it," You assured nodded your head you both had a brief staring contest before Wilbur said his official goodbyes and headed on his way. “I’m sorry,” Fundy watched your ears fall flat against your head.

“What for?” Fundy’s brows furrowed in concern, “He was being an ass, you had every right to defend yourself. Plus I hate him so.” He shrugged unbothered, “I love you though.” He pecked your cheek and you smiled shyly.

“I love you too Dee.” You spoke softly, pulling him close by his jacket, his tail began to wag enthusiastically.

“Kiss?”

“Kiss.” You nodded standing on your tiptoes to give him a long kiss, he purred tangling his fingers through your hair. You pulled away much too soon for his liking and let out a low whine, you giggled happily and peppered his face in light kisses. “Fundy?”

“Hm?”

“Let’s get married.”

“What?”

~~~

Next Up: Immortality and Nymphs Part II

551 notes · View notes

evienyx · 3 years

Text

DSMP Citizens POV 2: The Prime Path Florist

DSMP Citizen POV Masterlist

- - -

There were many florists in the Dream SMP. With how much destruction there was, people were constantly having to rebuild their yards, and the gardens, and the planter pots that would rest outside of businesses, and so being a florist could result in a very successful business.

The Prime Path Florist had been there the longest.

Before even TommyInnit had arrived, the Prime Path Florist had settled down in the Dream SMP, creating a simple garden for themself and enjoying life with their cat, bees, and every flower known to man.

As the server's population grew, and the Prime Path truly came into being as the main way to get around, the Florist claimed a piece of land, built up a humble shop, and started their business.

While there was no competition at first, as the chaos and wars began to rage through the server, more and more businesses popped up offering services to help with rebuilding. One of these such businesses was the Greater SMP Flower Shop, who opened just after the end of the L'Manburg Revolution.

Then, when another, smaller war broke out across the server and the Greater SMP Flower Shop was destroyed, they didn't build it back.

That was where the Prime Path Florist beat out all of their competition. They would always rebuild, if they even had to. The one time damage had been caused to their shop, though, what they had done to the person who caused the damage made it so that everyone knew from then on to not mess with their flower shop.

(Then, eventually, the land that their shop was on accidentally became part of the Holy Land, and it didn't even matter anymore anyway, because nothing on the server could harm the Holy Land.)

Out of all the leaders of the SMP, the first that the Prime Path Florist met was Nihachu, a resident of L'Manburg who was known to be close friends with the president.

"Good morning," Nihachu said when the Florist first met her. "How are you doing?"

"Well, and you?"

"Great! I'm just looking for some flowers to brighten up my bakery!"

"Of course. What kind of flowers are you looking for?"

Nihachu (Niki, she had insisted quickly) had left that day with arms full of white mullein. The next morning, the Florist had opened the door to find a package sitting inside, filled to the brim with baked goods.

The Florist had no idea how Niki Nihachu had gotten the things inside.

The door had been locked all night.

As the L'Manburg election loomed ever closer, it felt as though tensions were rising throughout the server. The Prime Path Florist was fine, though. Their shop was safe, and business was good as the pavilion and stage were set up for the day when the results would be released.

They turned off the public announcements on their communicator as the day of the results arrived. They didn't care to hear about politics. They just wanted to sell some flowers.

The day after the election, the Prime Path Florist was on their way to their shop when they saw VP Tommy running down the back roads that they took to work every day, what looked to be a piglin-hybrid in tow.

All three of them stopped. The stranger's hand floated to their side, hovering over the hilt of an iron sword, which looked like it had been hastily wrapped.

Then, the Prime Path Florist gave the teenager a nod. "Vice President," they said, greeting him the politest way they knew how to.

VP Tommy smiled a little too wide, and glanced at his companion before shooting off down the path again, not even acknowledging the Florist as he passed.

(Later that day, when a customer off-handedly mentioned that Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit had been banished by Schlatt, the new president, the Florist realized that the teen had thought that they had been telling him that they supported him.)

(The Florist shrugged.)

(They didn't care much for politics, anyway.)

Still, customers began coming into the shop more and more frequently (more than usual, at least, especially during a time without too much destruction), and they would lean across the counter and whisper about news from a place called 'Pogtopia.'

When the Prime Path Florist found out that it was the name of a rebellion, fighting against Manburg and led by Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit, who were bent on getting their country back, they were a bit surprised. They said nothing, though.

The Florist didn't care much for politics.

Less than a week after the election, the Florist met their third SMP leader face-to-face, as ex-President Soot's son Fundy walked into their shop.

"Could I, er..." The fox tugged at the edge of his cuff. "Do you have anything for first dates?"

"How long have you known them?" The Florist asked, already thinking through possibilities.

"Well, a while," Fundy said. "It's Dream."

The Prime Path Florist stalled. Then, they said, "I think I have the perfect one." They gathered up a bunch of prairie roses, passing them over to the other. Fundy paid for the flowers, gave a bit of a wobbly smile, and then set off, running down the path as soon as he set foot outside.

The next morning, when two customers gossiped to one another as they browsed, the Prime Path Florist found out that the Admin of the SMP and the son of the banished president of L'Manburg were engaged.

The customers wondered what would happen as a result of this. They wondered how the alliances would work, what with Fundy's father being the leader of the rebellion, Fundy himself working for the new leader of L'Manburg, and Dream being the Admin in charge of everything.

The Florist did not offer their thoughts, because the Florist did not care much for politics.

A few weeks later, the day after the announcement of the Manburg festival, Secretary Underscore arrived, looking a bit too small in his suit, but a smile on his face as he entered the store, the smile widening when his eyes landed on the Florist's bees zipping between the flowers.

"Bees!" He exclaimed, taking another step inside. "I love bees!"

The Prime Path Florist smiled gently. "I do too. What can I do for you today, Secretary?"

"Tubbo, please," the teenager replied. "And I don't know if you heard, but I'm in charge of decorating for the festival! I was wondering if I would be able to order some flowers to be put in the morning of?"

The Florist nodded. "Of course. Would you like to come pick them up at, say, 7:30? I normally open at 8, but I'll delay opening by an hour so I could help you put them in."

Tubbo grinned. "That would be great, thank you!"

"Of course, Secretary Tubbo." The teen looked a bit uncomfortable at the title, but he nodded as they asked, "I assume the Government of Manburg will be paying?"

"Yep. The color scheme is going to be based around the flag, if that helps!" Then, without another word, the kid waved to the bees and was gone.

Just under a week later, Tubbo helped them cart dozens of red Imperial Montagues and Dark Geranium.

"What do these flowers mean?" Tubbo asked them as they moved together down the Prime Path, the air crisp and the sun just beginning to shine over the landscape.

The Florist cleared their throat, tapping the side of the cart handle with their finger. "The lighter ones mean Power," they said as they turned the corner of the path, moving down toward the festival grounds.

"And the darker ones?"

The Prime Path Florist thought of the customers who murmured to them about Secretary Underscore, a secret spy for the rebellion. "...Melancholy. They mean melancholy."

Tubbo's smile dimmed, his eyes darkening just a bit, but he plucked a geranium from the cart he was pushing and pinned it to his suit before continuing on.

(After he gave his speech later that day, the flower ended up being darkened, stained with the blood of a teenager who went out with a bang.)

When Secretary Tubbo disappeared, soon followed by Vice President Quackity, both of them supposedly cementing their places in the Pogtopia rebellion (if the whispers were to be believed), the Florist continued on with their job.

After all, the Florist had never cared much for politics.

One day, when the businesses across the SMP were warned to lock their doors as a battle between Manburg and Pogtopia was expected, the Prime Path Florist was looking after their bees when abruptly the ground shook with a force that nearly knocked over some of the plants. The Florist, perturbed for the first time since they watched a teenager get shot full of fireworks, ran to Manburg, where smoke was rising into the sky.

They arrived just in time to watch the hybrid they had seen with VP Tommy months ago (Technoblade, they had heard, the Technoblade) spawn two Withers and laugh as the people of two countries, one decimated and one not, banded together to fight off the creatures.

(The Florist, glad they had brought their weapon, quickly joined in. Withers, when killed, dropped wither roses, and there was no way that they were letting those flowers end up anywhere but in their gloved grasp.)

A few weeks later, once the reconstruction of L'Manburg, now under the direction of President Tubbo, had just about been completed, the bell above the Florist's door chimed, echoing through their shop.

"And this is the Prime Path Flower Shop!" President Tubbo said, spreading his arms out wide. "And here's the Prime Path Florist themself!"

The president seemed to be giving a tour to the person who stood beside him, a lanky hybrid of what looked to be part-enderman and part-something else. The hybrid had to duck to enter the shop, and they expressly did not make eye-contact with the Florist as they stood beside Tubbo, looking just as stressed as he did during Schlatt's presidency, but somehow in a different way. The Prime Path Florist wondered why the President of L'Manburg was giving a tour to a new resident. There were sometimes hundreds of new people who moved to the server every day. What made this hybrid so special?

"Florist, this is Ranboo! He's new to the SMP. Niki already showed him around the Greater SMP, but she's got her bakery to watch, so I'm here to show him the rest!"

The Florist nodded. So, that was it. The hybrid, Ranboo, had been friends with Nihachu. "Nice to meet you, Ranboo," they addressed the hybrid, who nodded, his eyes still not meeting their own. The Florist turned back to Tubbo. "Would you two each like a flower? Free of charge. To welcome a new member of the server."

Tubbo took a dark geranium (he seemed to have developed a liking for them after the festival), and Ranboo asked for an allium.

The Florist handed him two. The tall teen sputtered and attempted to pass one back.

"I only need one," he said, stumbling over his words.

The Prime Path Florist shook their head and pressed the flowers further into Ranboo's hands. "Alliums always come in pairs. Every good florist knows that."

Ranboo visibly swallowed, but he took the flowers nonetheless.

About an hour later, VP Tommy ran past the shop down the Prime Path, and the Florist could just barely make out an allium clenched in the teen's hand.

Time passed, and tensions rose between the factions of the server. The Florist, nestles comfortably in the Holy Land, knowing that they were protected by the Higher Gods and by the Prime itself, rested easy. People from any side still bought their flowers, and business was still good.

When the destruction of L'Manburg came, the Florist did nothing but offer a discount to those whose homes had been blown down to bedrock, for the Florist had never cared much for politics.

(And then, months after that, after Dream's imprisonment in Pandora's Vault, when peace was on the server once more, the door opened on a particularly slow day with a surprisingly sad chime.

The Florist looked up to see Ranboo standing in front of them, tear tracks burning into his skin.

"What can I do for you?" They asked.

"I... I need flowers. For a grave."

"...Would you rather them be somber or bright?"

"Bright. As bright as possible, please," Ranboo said. "I want to remember him for how he was in life."

The Florist soon passed over a bundle of marigolds and helenium, a few harebells interspersed between them. "Symbolizing grief and tears," they said as they handed the teen the flowers.

"Thank you," Ranboo said, preparing to pass over payment. He froze and looked back up at them, eyes wide. "Actually... could I also get an allium?"

The Florist felt a sinking in their stomach and nodded, plucking the flower from a nearby vase and tucking it into the bouquet. The teen paid and left, and the Prime Path Florist went on with their day.

That evening, the official news broke that Dream had murdered TommyInnit in prison. The server cried. The server mourned.

The Florist did not do much of either, because, beyond their cat, their bees, and their flowers, the Florist never cared much for anything.

At least, that was what they tried to tell themselves.

It was easier that way.

It always was.)

#dsmp #dream smp #dsmp citizen pov #dsmp citizens memes #tw blood #tubbo #tommyinnit #technoblade #mcyt #fundy #nihachu #i am having a great time writing these dsmp citizen things #and ppl seem to be enjoying #if my askbox is anything to go off of #so ill keep going in between writing for my actual fics #i promise i will write a less angsty one soon!#it just turns out flowers can be really sad on this server idk what to tell you

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bittydragon · 3 years

Text

The Problems Arising (The Spy)

First(Previous) - Next

Notes: Here’s chapter 2 of The Problems Arising! (Finally, I took way too long on getting this out y’all) Hope y’all enjoy!

Being with Schlatt was a nightmare. Everything about Tubbo’s new life with the president was terrible. He was even forced to change out of the clothes that Tommy had sewn for him, back when they had first met.

He was now forced to wear a small hand made suit, much like the one Schlatt wore, only poorly sewn.

He missed his old outfit. Tommy had made it for him because when he had first seen the borrower, Tubbo was wearing a small piece of cloth over his shoulders in a bad attempt at a poncho.

He never really did get the hang of making clothes for himself, but the poncho worked well enough. Though he never realized how comfortable a proper set of clothes would be until Tommy made him some.

And now Tubbo was forced to wear the shoddily made suit that was too big in some places and tight on others. It even made him wish for his old poncho. But Schlatt insisted and practically forced him to wear the ensemble, despite him being a secret from the rest of the cabinet, minus Quackity.

Quackity was tolerable. He was pretty funny and came by frequently to talk with Tubbo. But he never made any attempt to free the borrower and in the presence of Schlatt, any kindness he held disappeared.

Tubbo wasn’t too sure how he felt about him.

Schlatt on the other hand was horrible, through and through. At the beginning of Tubbo’s capture, he’d made many attempts to escape.

He had nearly made it to the walls at one point. But every time his luck seemed to fade out and he was met with a boot slammed down in front of him or a hand roughly pinning him down.

Schlatt wasn’t at all merciful towards Tubbo either. If he did anything the man didn’t like, he received some sort of punishment. He felt like a dog being trained to be a good pet for its owner.

Though, that analogy wasn’t too far off from how he was treated.

About a month into Tubbo’s capture, he had stopped trying to escape knowing it would be a fruitless endeavor. Schlatt had quickly picked up on that piece of information and was pleased enough to know that he could now use this tiny boy to his advantage without him attempting to run away again.

So now Tubbo was on one of his little spy trips for Schlatt. Schlatt realized fairly quickly that he was small and knew how to get into hidden spaces and stay undetected.

So every so often, Schlatt would send Tubbo out just before the sun rose to go out into Manburg and gather any inside intelligence he could and report back to Schlatt at the end of the day.

Schlatt was kind enough to drop him off at different locations in the mornings, but after that, he was left to traverse the area on his own, a difficult task for a borrower.

Tubbo was forced to make do with the situation, he didn’t want to try his luck at gaining more favors from Schlatt.

However, Tubbo was not completely under Schlatt’s thumb. While he did have to go out and retrieve information for the man, he always found a way to leave out the details that would mark people as traitors.

He had overheard a few people in Manburg state something about a place called ‘Pogtopia’ and how Tommy and Wilbur now resided there.

Because of his spying for Schlatt, he had managed to gather the fact that Wilbur and Tommy were working together in order to find a way to overthrow Schlatt.

With that in mind, Tubbo decided he would only need to bide his time until Schlatt was overthrown and Wilbur took back his rightful place as president of this country.

But now, it was time to report back to Schlatt. Today was a boring day, nobody really said anything that they all didn’t know.

There was the one lady who owned the bakery that Tubbo had overheard complaining about her high taxes and thinking about becoming a spy for Pogtopia, but Schlatt didn’t need to know that.

Looking up at the white house, he took a deep breath and walked towards the building. He had only made it a few steps before the door was practically slammed open and in the doorway stood Schlatt, who looked a bit too pissed off for Tubbo’s liking.

Schlatt spotted Tubbo almost instantly and marched over towards the borrower, who took an instinctual step back at the sudden movement. Before he could say anything else, Schlatt bent down and picked him up in a tight fist before marching right back towards the door.

“You better have some fucking good news for me, little pest. I don’t need another shit piece of news right now, so you better have something good.”

Tubbo stared wide-eyed up at the president. What bad news had he received that got Schlatt all worked up like this?

It didn’t bode well for Tubbo though, Schlatt was not against taking his anger out on the tiny boy. He needed to make sure he calmed the man down before anything especially bad could happen.

Far too quickly, they arrived at Schlatt’s desk and Tubbo was unceremoniously dropped onto the wood. He watched as Schlatt sat down and levelled him with a hard stare.

“Well? What’ve you got for me, kid?”

Tubbo cleared his throat, he had to word everything carefully as not to further anger Schlatt, even if he had barely any information to give the man.

“I did not find much out that we didn’t already know, sir. The most interesting thing I saw was that a demon and a strange person made of diamonds were walking through the country today. I have not seen them here before, so I was unsure as to whether or not this was vital information for you or not. Other than that, it was a very normal day and nothing incriminating was found.”

Schlatt almost seemed to measure him up for a minute. Tubbo nervously stared back at him, nervous at what his reaction could be. Schlatt eventually sighed and leaned back into his chair.

“Bad and Skeppy. They shouldn’t be a threat, but they aren’t exactly a friendly party with us either. The Badlands, their faction, is a very neutral faction. I don’t trust them but no issues have arisen with them, so we shall continue with them peacefully.” He paused for a second before addressing Tubbo directly.

“You did well enough, I suppose. I can’t really blame you when nobody says anything around you sometimes.”

Tubbo did his best not to allow the relief to cross his face. If Schlatt knew of just how much Tubbo was panicking then he would use that to his advantage to gain more power over him. He didn’t need anything else making his life harder.

“I am glad you are happy with the information I have found today. I apologize for not finding anything else for you.”

Schlatt actually smiled at him. Tubbo didn’t know what to think, the smile seemed genuine but the president was a master of deception so he couldn’t be too sure.

“Y’know, you’re a good kid. If you continue working this hard at your job, I may have to upgrade your enclosure again.”

Tubbo wasn’t sure what to say in response to that. It seemed more of a backhanded compliment. Schlatt may have applauded him for his work and how well he did it, but he also made sure to remind him that he was still nothing more than a pet. An obedient little pet who deserved a treat when they did a good job.

“I have an idea, kid.” Tubbo looked up to the ram. He felt a small bout of nerves build up inside of him, but he shoved the bad feeling away.

He nodded towards Schlatt to indicate he was listening, too scared that his voice would relay the slight fear he had. However, the president didn’t seem to notice as he continued on.

“Manburg is thriving right now, there’ve been very few amounts of potential betrayal and Wilbur and Tommy can do absolutely nothing against me with nobody else on their side.” Tubbo flinched at that, but if Schlatt noticed he said nothing as he continued talking.

“So I’ve decided that I should hold a festival, one to acknowledge the success of this country under my rule. There will be games and activities for everyone and I will give a speech to the people as well. This should be the perfect way to show everyone how great the country has become, don’t you agree?”

“Of course, Schlatt! I think that’s a perfect idea! A festival would be a good way to celebrate how far your country has come.” Tubbo’s voice shook a little as he spoke.

He hoped the president didn’t notice how he was struggling to lie in order to appease the man. He didn’t want to call the country Schlatt’s, but if he didn’t he would be labelled a traitor on the spot.

“Exactly! You get it, kid. I knew you were a good asset for my cabinet.” He reached a finger out to ruffle Tubbo’s hair. The borrower resisted the urge to flinch away and only faked a smile up at Schlatt.

“I’m glad you think so, sir!” Schlatt sent another small smile towards the boy, finger still on his head. Tubbo let out a mental sigh of relief when he seemed to buy his lie. He felt like he was getting a whole lot better at this whole faking thing.

Schlatt began to shift his hand to grab Tubbo, the finger slipping out of his hair. The borrower found himself restricted in Schlatt’s fist once more, but in a noticeably looser grip than earlier.

He didn’t appreciate being grabbed like this, but there was nothing he could do against Schlatt. If he attempted any form of rebellion then he would lose all the privileges he had managed to gain, and he liked the small amount of freedom he currently had.

It didn’t take long for Schlatt to reach Tubbo’s enclosure. He pat his head once more before lowering him down into the small glass enclosure.

Tubbo only stared up helplessly as the top was placed over the enclosure, trapping him inside once more. Schlatt sent one last glance towards the small boy before making his way to the kitchen.

Tubbo didn’t move, just sitting there allowing his thoughts to run wild. This festival did actually seem like a good idea, but something about the whole plan made him feel queasy... like there was a part he was missing.

And why had Schlatt conferred in him about the idea? The whole thing just sent Tubbo for a loop and he couldn’t explain why something just felt off about the idea of the festival.

A minute later, Schlatt returned with a small container containing bread, some pieces of strawberry and a bottlecap of water. He moved the lid off of Tubbo’s enclosure, putting the food and water into the glass box before closing it and leaving once more, this time towards his office.

Tubbo instantly made his way towards the food, the sight of it reminding him of his hunger that had built up throughout the day. He was glad that Schlatt felt the need to feed him, even if he knew it was probably because the ram didn’t need his pet to be dying on him any time soon.

He picked up a small chunk of strawberry and began to nibble on it while staring blankly out at the room he was kept in.

His mind wandered back towards the festival idea. Something inside of him screamed that something was wrong but he didn’t know what.

He decided it was just nerves and he chose to brush off the rising anxiety. The feeling remained but Tubbo decided to just ignore it.

What could possibly go wrong anyways?

#mcyt #mcyt gt #tiny!tubbo #giant!schlatt #giant!tommy #giant!wilbur #giant!quackity #tubbo #schlatt #bitty writes #part 2 #no direct interaction with wilbur or tommy or quackity #but tubbo has a fun time with schlatt :)#what could possibly go wrong y'all?#bringing you more angst #borrower tubbo saga

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ansxit · 3 years

Text

Vive La Revolution

"ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ. ɪf ᴡᴇ ɢᴇᴛ ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴠᴏʟᴜᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ. ᴡᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɢɪᴠᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴏɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ."

(Y/n) was always loyal to Essemp. For clarification, She is the cousin to the young ruler of their nation, Clay. He wasn't the fairest ruler, but he still cherished his land and his friends. (Y/n) would always stand by her cousin's side whenever skirmishes and war broke throughout the kingdom.

Until she happened to fall for the leader of a revolution.

—

01 - Skirmish

"Flank left!" The smoke from TNT drifted through the air. Explosions rang through the valleys and you felt confident that you were winning. You and your battalion were sent out on the terms of a small uprising in the south. You've noticed for the past few months, more and more uprisings had been spotted in random villages of Essemp.

"Not right!" You screamed into the grey void, seeing the shadows of your troops running about. "Left! Flank left!" A cry to your right caught your attention but you had to keep going. The injured would care for themselves, and you hoped the rebellion knew it was cruel to harm an unarmed man.

Through the dust you could see the outline of a waving flag. The familiar green seemed welcoming in the colorless abyss. You dismounted your trusted steed and dove into the trenches below.

A body was pressed right up against yours and had it not been for the breathing in your ear you would've thought they were dead. You still rolled to your left off of the person and they let out a heaving sigh. Familiar brown hair and eyes was enough to have you recognize who you crash-landed on.

"How are we looking out there," Wilbur groaned, rubbing his rib cage where you possibly elbowed him.

"Not good no thanks to you," You glared and smacked his chest. The young man gave a look of pure shock and sat up.

"What do you mean 'no thanks to me'!" He whined, "I recall being absolutely amazing out there and saving your ass from being shot!"

"You're the reason we are here in this situation!" You reached for a chest sunken into the dirt and pulled out a new crossbow. "Had it not been for your quick draw of a sword and temper, we could be riding back to the palace before dinner."

An explosion in the distance caused you to cease your movements and drop the arrows out of your grasp. You fumbled around for them as a blond soldier next to the two of you laughed.

"She have a point there, Wilbur!"

"Oh shut it, Grayson!" Wilbur snapped at the man before grabbing his own bow and arrow. "Don't pretend you didn't reach for your crossbow when their scum of a leader refused to meet with us."

"And You need to watch your temper," You scolded while loading your quiver with more arrows. "A good General keeps their head cool and doesn't let small comments get the better of them."

"Oh, like how your pride doesn't take a swan dive off a cliff every time someone insults your family?"

"There's a difference between plain insulting and insulting my heritage." You stood up quickly, checking to see if you could spot any enemy advancement through the smoke, before ducking back down as an arrow flew over your head. "When someone runs their mouth, not even directed at you, might I add, you light up faster than a bundle of TNT."

Wilbur snorted at Your comment but made no further argument. He jumped up as well to check and quickly flattened back to the ground.

"Once I retire and you take my place," You continued on, knocking an arrow and firing blindly out into the field. "You need to be the best leader there is in Essemp." You looked over at Wilbur with a slight smile. "That is of course, if you don't lose your head before then."

"Wow, you really think the way I'd go out would be decapitation?" Wilbur questioned in mock-pain. "You wound me, Y/n, at least hold me to a higher standard." He started firing arrows as well. following suit of blind aim. There was only a short pause before He mumbled, "Actually decapitation would be better than getting blown up."

You gave a hearty chuckle and looked over at the soldiers around the two of you. They were still firing away from their positions. Some were recovering from injuries they had sustained with medical supplies scattered in the dirt.

"You would prefer decapitation than to be blown up?" Y/n inquired as you fumbled for some flint and steel. "Decapitation just seems like too much work, you have to pull out the guillotine and there is even a chance the blade doesn't cut all the way through" You finally struck a flame and grabbed for your arrows. Wilbur seemed to understand the idea you were getting at, and lit his own arrows aflame as well.

"Oh of course you don't want the harder option," he grumbled and fired the flame arrows out of the ditch. "You are the type to talk about an explosion-filled death during a battle involving explosives."

"I don't joke about death, I merely discuss the topic with added laughter." You were both firing in unison now, and the soldiers around you copied the strategy.

"You might be on a higher status than me, but Clay would have my head on a nice pedestal if he figured out you died on my watch."

"What if you died as well?"

"He'd kill me once over again."

You went silent for a second. "Well, at least you'd have a nice pedestal." You joked. "And that's King Clay to a soldier like yourself, Wilbur."

"You don't ever see me calling you 'Princess Y/n' now do you?" He responded with his famous cheeky grin.

"No, but now that you bring it up..." You smiled back as Wilbur rolled his eyes. Through the fire arrows lighting the smoke-ridden sky full of color, someone from behind the two of you, out of the ditch, yelled for your name. Alastair, a well known Lieutenant around the palace, was laying down on the ground above you guys.

"Princess Y/n and General Wilbur." Alastair greeted you two. "The opposing forces have reached the main circlet, the cavalry has arrived and are ready to surround them on your command."

"Alright, thank you Eret. Go back and join the others until everyone here is ready to move out. Once I give the signal, only then will you charge out." He nodded his head and started running back where the tree line was. You smirked over at Wilbur, "See, I think 'Princess Y/n' has a nice ring to it." He replied with a middle finger pointed at your face.

You barked a laugh and got into a kneeling position. You called attention to the surrounding soldiers and informed them of the plan that was about to go down. Once you were certain that the uninjured men were ready to go, you looked to Wilbur for confirmation. He stared at you for just a second longer before nodding.

The second you started raising your hand the soldiers around you rushed out of the ditch. Once the majority were out, You and Wilbur hopped out as well; swords drawn and all.

You could spot bright red coats through the haze, and as the smoke lifted from the battle ground you could see the green uniforms of Essemp's soldiers rounding up members of the rebellion. You and Wilbur both ran towards anyone that was trying to escape from the ambush and herded them back towards the main group.

"I've got to say, using the old sheepdog tactic is... beneficial." Wilbur laughed from a few feet away. You looked over at him with a smile. Even though dust and gunpowder dirtied his hair, and save for some tears in his uniform, he still held his glowing aura in the midst of a battle. Seeing his grin gave you the sense of comfort that everything would be okay.

No matter how many times you bickered and teased, as long as you two had each other you were happy.

The soldiers on their horses and the ones in the trees all aimed crossbows and bows towards the rebels, waiting for your next command. You and Wilbur walked over; you had both sheathed your weapons and examined the kneeling soldiers. To the far left, Alastair motioned for You with a tilt of his head.

"What's up?" Wilbur asked once Eret was within earshot.

"We singled out the lieutenants you guys spoke to earlier." He gestured to two kneeling soldiers that were glaring at You and Wilbur. "They still refuse to leak their leader's identity."

"Well alright then," Wilbur glared right back at the two rebels. "I'd say it's about time the bastard showed his face."

"Will you need any uh," Eret glanced from the unarmed soldiers to Wilbur's bow then back to you, "assistance?"

"We'll handle it from here Alastair, thank you." You sighed and nodded at Grayson and Luke. Both of them hoisted up the rebels and you all made your way to the front of the rebellion.

Once infront of everyone, you squared your shoulders. After looking back at the two lieutenants, your eyes darted over to Wilbur who nodded at you. In a blink of an eye, you both had drawn your swords to the soldier's necks.

"Direct us to the leader of this regiment." You commanded. Wilbur pressed the blade closer to their neck and fear shown through their eyes. When neither of them responded, You grabbed one of them by their arm and kept the blade close enough so that a small drop of blood trickled down their neck. Wilbur followed suit and you swept your cold gaze across the field.

You hated violence, but sometimes it was the only answer.

The rebel in your grasp whimpered as you held him in a death-grip. All the soldiers in the field, rebel and your own, looked over to you. The soldiers closest to you all held apprehension in their eyes. You didn't get the title you had now from just being the King's cousin, but from being intimidating, strategic, and all-around terrifying.

"I wish to know the person in charge of these men." You moved your sword across your line of sight before bringing it back to the man's neck. "If they do not step forward you will be comforted to know the King has special spikes for all of your heads." You tilted your blade to catch the falling sun to enunciate your point. "Your leader is a coward," You called out to the men after no response. "He kneels with you, taking no blame and responsibility for any deaths on this battlefield tonight."

"Hypocrisy!" A voice cried far out in the circle. You looked over at where the voice came from. Wilbur quietly gasped behind you as a man rose from the kneeling soldiers. "You admit yourself that a leader takes blame and remorse for casualties amongst men."

You took a step forward and released the man you previously held. He sputtered and coughed, but you ignored him and walked closer towards the standing individual.

"I speak for the men kneeling here before you." His voice rang through the quiet, only disrupted by your footsteps. "We and many more have seen the tyrant's ways. We know who's on the wrong side of history."

He wore no different clothing than the rest of the men. There where no patches nor pins to differentiate his leadership. Instead, he had a single necklace with ram horns on it. You instantly knew this was the man in charge of the uprisings around Essemp.

"What's your name," You asked. Only seven feet separated the two of you, the kneeling men had cleared a path as you walked closer.

"His name is Jay Schlatt." Wilbur spoke behind you. You turned your head to the side in acknowledgement. Only three feet now. "He used to dream of working as a knight in the kingdom." Everyone was staring at Wilbur as he talked. "He trained everyday until one day he just, disappeared."

"I learned the truth." Jay spat; you turned back to him with narrowed eyes. "I learned," he spread his arms out wide, "That the King and his incompetent friends never cared about us!

"Not a single one of these men around us were shown compassion and fairness like he claims. He left us to rot in poverty while he lays in a kingdom of gold!"

Wilbur walked forward, and you saw that his expression was full of hurt. You moved out of the way as he got closer.

"Schlatt you know this isn't true-" Jay grabbed him by the shoulders and instantaneously you whipped out your sword, poised at the man's collarbone. The field once again went silent, not even the birds interrupted with their calls. The two men seemed to hold a conversation with just their eyes, Schlatt's changing from pleading to subtle despair.

After a long, silent minute Jay released Wilbur and slowly knelt back down to the ground. You sheathed your sword once again, only for Wilbur to bring out his own.

"He is an unfair ruler, and is nothing short of cruel." Jay said. The soldiers around him solemnly nodded in agreement. "Surely you've seen the King's ways." Wilbur looked down at the Leader in front of him, and couldn't dare look away. Jay pleaded once again as he stared at Wilbur. "He doesn't care about his subjects, he just wants power."

You looked at all the kneeling rebellions in the field. Wilbur was still holding his sword at Jay's neck, his hands trembling a bit. The convicted leader finally bowed his head and stared at the soot ridden ground beneath them.

"Jay Schlatt, you will be locked up for treason against the King," you stated and motioned for your troops to grab the prisoners. Jay refused to look up as Grayson walked over and hoisted him; tying his hands behind his back. As they both passed you, Jay finally looked up to meet your hardened gaze.

"Down with the tyrant king." He spat as Grayson shoved him forward. The rest of your battalion started escorting the rebels off the field. You let out a long-awaited sigh and looked over to your right-hand man.

"Wilbur?" He still held his sword in his hand, although it was lowered now. "Wilbur?" You asked again. He seemed to snap out of it and moved to sheathe his weapon.

"I'm alright, I just.. wasn't expecting to see an old face today." He quickly turned around and started to walk with the rest of the soldiers. You chased after him, trying to stay in step with his longer strides. When you called for his name again, he just walked faster. In the end, you gave up on trying to follow him.

You and your battalion had won the skirmish. But as you watched Wilbur walk away; you couldn't help but have a feeling that you'd lost something else...

#dream smp #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #lmanburg #fanfiction #fantasy au #revolution

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curvingsunsets · 3 years

Text

So This is The Fic I WroteAbout the Boys

idk what to call it but here it is

Quick warning before you read: parents fighting, implied homophobia, anything else I need to tag lmk

ALSO I listened to Jubilee Line by Wilbur Soot the entire time I was writing it

I was also asked to tag @crybabyddl so here u go <3

Wasting your time

You're wasting mine

There was something in the air that night. Something that gave the boys a gentle switch of tone. A signal that they were the only family they’d need.

It wasn’t easy managing everything that he was going through. He’d barely been holding on to not only his grades, but the band and his social life. It wasn’t what he wanted to happen. He wanted a nice family dinner with his mom and dad. His dad just had to find out about his next gig. Tension grew around the table and it ended with a regretful “I hate you” spat into the living room.

The next hour was spent in his room. He couldn’t return to the scene, his mom’s gentle weeping could be heard through the hollow door of his room along with his dad’s attempt at reassurance. He stopped staring at the stars he stuck to his ceiling years ago and grabbed his bag. For once, he was thankful his room was on the first floor. He slipped out of his window and started the long, but calming walk to the only place he knew he could go to.

~~~

Usually, it was easy for him to ignore the muffled screams through the walls of the house. Tonight was different, however. The insults his dad threw at his mom, who he supposedly loved, started to sting a little more than any other day. He’d tried to muffle it out with a pillow over his ears, even tried humming to drown it out, but no luck. It was frustrating, having to be the only level-headed person in the house.

The longer he was alone with the fighting, the deeper he got into his own head. Whatever was going on outside that door couldn’t be love, he told himself time and time again. Yet, he never seemed to believe it. Just as he started getting trapped in his own head, a gut-wrenching curse was thrown from one parent to the other. That’s when he’d drawn the line. He pulled himself out of his own thoughts and unlocked the window, slipping out into the salty air.

~~~

The disapproving stares from his parents seemed to hit a little harder as he walked into the kitchen wearing the pink hoodie he knew they hated. He pretended not to hear the slur his dad muttered under his breath as he scanned the fridge. The word lingered in the air for a second longer than he was comfortable with. He’d settled for a bottle of water and escaped back into his room, avoiding the two pairs of eyes burning judgement into the back of his head.

He’d tried so hard to be “normal” for them. Until he realized that he was normal, and that they were just bigots. He laid in his bed with his headphones in, Whitney playing through the speakers quietly, afraid that they’d still hear her through the door. No matter how hard he tried, his mind drifted back to the disapproving looks that fell over his parent’s faces the day he’d come out to them. The clouding of his mind seemed to pull him away from his home and out of his window.

Hate to see you leaving

Fate worse than dying

Your city gave me asthma

That's why I'm fucking leaving

Your water gave me cancer

The pavement hurt my feelings

They’d all been suffocating in their own homes. The places they thought were supposed to be their safe spaces...yet they’d never felt truly safe there.

The cold air that hit his face was a gentle reminder of the tears that were slipping down his cheeks. As he pushed the pedals of his bike forward, he’d used the sleeve of his flannel to rid of the trails on his cheeks. His mind kept racing, still. The feeling of regret trickling in, but not deep enough to make him turn back. He’d pushed forward once again, letting go of the handlebars for a moment to simply exist in the calm.

~~~

The trail in the woods definitely wasn’t his favorite, but it helped him sift through his thoughts. The rustling of the trees provided almost a drone that kept him grounded. Of course, it wasn’t his prefered method of releasing stress, but it was the quickest route. So he pushed forward, picking a few leaves off the trees as he passed, tearing them apart so he could do something with his hands instead of picking at his cuticles until they bled.

~~~

The gentle breeze had drawn his thoughts away from the scowls and towards his safe space. He may not have been paying attention to where he was going, but he’d been on this path too many times to count, so it was basically second nature at this point. The passing cars gave no second glance to the seventeen year old they drove past on the highway, all too busy to get to their third party of the night. It didn’t bother him, though. He’d always made up stories for the people driving past.

Shout at the wall

Because the walls don't fucking love you

Once he’d arrived in the garage, he dropped his bag on the couch and sighed, the stress from the night disintegrating into the concrete floor. He walked further into the garage, not even bothering to turn the lights on. He took a deep breath before kicking a pillow across the room. Pulling off his hoodie, he laid down on the couch, draping it over his chest.

It was silent for a moment before the second boy walked in. “Luke?” he asked softly, unsure if the boy on the couch was asleep.

“Hey, Reg,” Luke answered without even opening his eyes. “Bad time at home too?”

Reggie didn’t even have to answer before Luke was up off the couch, leading him up to the loft of the garage. They laid over the bags of clothing and guitar cases, the small hole in the roof letting moonlight seep through, illuminating the boys’ faces.

“Wanna talk about it?” Luke asked, running a comforting hand over the bass player’s shoulder.

There's a reason

That London puts barriers on the tube line

There's a reason

That London puts barriers on the rails

And he did. For a few minutes, he’d let out every thought that was lingering in his mind for the past month. Some of them not even the reason he left his house that night. But, although he was crying, it was a relief for him. Like any negative feeling that filled his being dissolved into the air above him and left the two with a sigh of relief afterwards.

Their comfortable silence was interrupted by the garage door opening for a third time that night. The blonde immediately noticed the faint sniffles of one of his best friends in the loft. To which he climbed the ladder and joined the pile, trying to hide the fact that he had been crying on the way here.

But, they noticed. And Luke asked him the same thing he’d asked Reggie twenty minutes before. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

There's a reason

That London puts barriers on the tube line

There's a reason

That London puts barriers on the rails

And he spoke his mind. They let him release that tension. It came with some crying and self-doubt, to which they responded with supportive comments and comforting touches. But, he’d started to finally recognize the difference between how he felt about himself versus the way others made him feel. And on his face, a smile broke through for the first time that day.

“What about you, man?” Alex asked Luke, who’d been so generous to let the others pour every piece of themselves out on the floor.

He usually never shared in moments like this. He’d never admit it, but he always wants the others to be okay before he’d ever share what was on his mind. Even then, he wouldn’t spill the whole story, just enough to make the others content.

And after they’d all spoken their hearts out, they looked at each other. And that was the spark that made them realize. There was another gust of wind that came through the hole in the roof that finally knocked out any negative feelings that were left. Reggie sighed contentedly, leaning further into Luke’s side as he played with his necklace. Alex tapped out a rhythm on his legs, staring through the hole in the roof, the stars laying out a familiar pattern for him to trace in his mind.

The silence ended with a sigh from Luke, “This is the only family we’re ever gonna need,” he explained softly. “There is nobody out there who understands us. Except for us.”

Both Alex and Reggie nodded. Alex laid back against the garbage bag filled with Luke’s clothes. Reggie curled further into Luke’s embrace, a soft sigh of relief escaping from his lips as he let sleep take over. Luke kept his comforting touch continuing for Reggie’s comfort. He waved Alex over to the pile, to which he complied, resting his head in the guitarist’s lap, tapping a different rhythm into his knee. It continued until Alex succumbed to the sleep that had been tugging at his eyelids for the past 15 minutes.

Luke looked at his two best friends and nodded. Although this wasn’t the family he’d particularly wanted, it sure was the one he needed.

#Luke patterson #Alex mercer #reggie peters #Julie and the phantoms fic

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theonlygamergost · 3 years

Text

Dream’s new friend -Dream SMP

I am an absolute sucker for Techno/Dream interactions, and them getting locked up together made me want to write about them, so here we are.

English is not my first language so sorry for any grammatical error, I try my best.

~~~~~~~~~~

They have a plan to escape, but it’s slow and very taxing on Dream’s frail body, so Techno tries his best to be a good friend and support him. Spoilers: he only knows how to be an amazing friend.

~~~~~~~~~

Warning! Mention of torture, Swearing

Enjoy~

“Just so you know, I'm not breaking all of the blocks by myself, you're helping” he looked at the half-pig while his hands went in and out of the water, Techno grinned, “You really thought I'd let you do that all by yourself?” he let out a short laugh, “I just needed to exaggerate my inner anarchist and look lazy in front of chat, that's all. We can do a block per person” Dream smiled behind his cracked mask, returning his gaze in front of him. Meditating on thoughts while watching the water break every time he punched.

It had been a few days since Techno last streamed, they had just broken the second block, meaning that Dream was up for the third block. The bell hadn't been touched very much, Techno had ringed it twice to annoy the other man, but that was about it.

“Do you regret asking for the bell instead of freedom?” Dream was sitting not too far at a from Techno, just enough to have privacy while writing, “Not really” the pig-man was punching away the second block, “I mean, it would have been anticlimactic to get out of here in the first stream” Dream sighed, “Is the entertainment of the situation all you care about?” he looked at Techno, slightly annoyed. The men tilted his head, “Not completely, but you have to agree that getting out of here using DreamXD would have drawn even more attention on you, not only from Quackity” he noted, “But from all the server” the man with the dirty white mask looked up, resting his head on the wall behind him, “True…”. The pig-man took a quick glance at the other boy and returned his focus on punching, Dream had followed suit and went back to writing.

Dream had kneeled and started punching the third block approximately twenty minutes ago, Techno was relaxing his tired body by laying sprawled on the floor: he had underestimated how tiring the process was.

“I have been training constantly up until I came here and this has worn me out, so how are you holding up?” He turned his face to the man punching away, who laughed at the question, “I’m not, why do you think I slept so much right after?”.

Oh right, the sight of Dream huddled in a corner popped into his mind, the cellmate stayed dead still and silent for a long while after breaking the first block. Who could blame him though? He had been stuck in this prison for what- six, seven months? Techno doubted the first inmate of this cell trained daily, with the heat of the lava and the constant sweating, even he wouldn’t want to train.

“Well, it’s still admirable that you recovered from a day of punching just by sleeping it off” Dream nodded as a thank you. After a sigh, Techno went back to staring at the ceiling, this wasn’t the best idea he had ever come up with, but hey, it was the only subtle one since he couldn’t use withers and tnt to get out.

He closed his eyes and focused on the various sounds of the lava: boiling, bubbling, it seemed like a soup cooking, but the sound of the liquid flowing down wasn’t normal, he opened his eyes, “Dream, the lava is falling”. The other man stopped punching and got closer to the edge of the cell, as soon as pistons got into motion, he quickly leapt behind the netherite block line and almost got left out, as it raised from the ground. Techno scooted in front of the bell and Dream leaned on the barrier, curious to see who was coming.

Some dreadful minutes after, the lava finally revealed who was visiting: It was none other than Sam.

“Heyyy Sam!” Techno was quick to chirp a greeting, waving excessively. Dream simply gestured a salute, backing away from the netherite blocks and leaning on a wall. The man in armour hopped on the taxi platform and started making his way, still silent. “What brings you here Sam? Maybe you’ve decided to free me?” The pig-man got no reply, just a stare, “Are you here because I have called every book I signed ‘Sub to Techno’? Listen, I can’t really apologize about that-” Sam got closer, still no response. Dream eyed the bell behind his inmate and hoped that the guard wouldn’t get too close, what would even happen if he saw it? He feared nothing good.

The platform reached the cell and Sam stepped on the obsidian, Dream wanted to ask where was Quackity, why he wasn’t coming anymore, maybe Sam was here to torture him in his stead? But he stayed quiet, not wanting to wake up the sleeping lion.

“Oh I got it!” Techno snapped his finger, “You missed us so you came to see us!” Sam sighed as he started to fumble in his inventory, “Don’t be ridiculous Techno” the guard finally spoke, “I came to check if you weren’t trying to escape-” He plopped a bag on the netherite barrier, “And to bring you potatoes. I’ve heard you’re a big fan of them, Technoblade” A smirk slipped though, god was he tired of being teased with the whole ‘Potato lover’ joke.

Sam turned to Dream and went back to rustle in his pocket, “I’ve also brought more journals and some ink for you, Dream.”. He also placed those on the barrier, the man with the white mask got off the wall and placed the bag of food on the floor while also grabbed the stationary, murmuring out a “Thank you”.

The guard looked at the two prisoners again, “You two better not be planning anything. Behave and nothing will happen to you” he said as he hopped back on the platform, and even when it started moving, he was still looking at those two. He only broke sight when he arrived on the other side, took down the netherite barrier and re-activated the lava.

Techno had been sweating throughout the entire meet-up, thankfully, the high temperature disguised his nervousness. Focusing on the slow dripping of the crying obsidian helped him avoid fidgeting or bouncing his leg. Dream was mostly focused on not looking in Techno’s direction too much, to avoid raising suspicion, he also restrained himself to tease or talk back to Sam, even though, thinking about it more clearly, in all the times Sam came to check up on him, he seemed lost in his thoughts, absent…

Both the inmates let out a sigh of relief when the lava-curtain dropped, Dream slid down the wall onto the floor, “I don’t know why he didn’t enter the cell like he usually does, but thank god he didn’t”, Techno let out a shaky breath, “That was pure stress… I thought hiding the bell was going to be easier”.

The two took a break from talking: Techno layed down again, placing an arm on his forehead, meanwhile Dream placed both books and food in their place. When he too sat down, Techno asked: “You should get some sleep before going back to punching” he tilted his head to look at the other man, who replied smiling at the friend’s concern, “Nah” he shook his head, “I don’t want to sleep, but I’ll post-pone punching for a little more” Techno nodded, closing his eyes for a little.

Silence fell again and the bubbling from the lava took over as the main noise, the elder guardian screech renewed their mining fatigue and Dream decided to close his eyes for a minute as well.

_________

The hard ground and the heat that wearing the mask had created were hard to ignore, his body ached a little and he was out of breath, “Oh wow that actually worked”, a faint voice made him realize that his mind was foggy: he had fallen asleep.

Slowly stretching his limbs, letting out a long whine and blinking a couple of times got him a bit more lucid, getting up to a sitting position. Scanning the room he realized his inmate was sitting at the edge of the lava cascade blocking the cell, fumbling with what, he couldn’t see.

“...Mh… Techno…” he mumbled with his morning voice, yawning right after. The friend looked over his shoulder to see a sleepy Dream rubbing his eyes, he smiled, “Good morning dear, I’m cooking you breakfast before you head for work”. The white-mask man smiled, “Very funny Techno…”, he stretched again. “Oh no I’m not kidding, I’m baking the potatoes” he turned to show the crispy tubers in his arms, Dream’s eyes widened. “Oh wow, you really did that” Techno nodded, getting up from his improvized ‘kitchen’, “I was surprised it worked as well honestly”.

The smell of food filled the cell, making the sleepy man’s stomach rumble, they both laughed at the sound: Dream had almost forgotten what hot food tasted like. “Here” Techno threw him a potato, almost dropping it on the ground because of Dream’s rusty reflexes.

He took off his broken mask out of excitement to taste the meal, not realizing his own action, but Techno didn’t stare at him nor asked questions about it, he simply sat down himself and didn’t speak a word, probably the easiest and more natural way he had ever shown someone his face, he silently thanked the other man for not judging him or reacting negatively.

Once he started eating it, a tear almost fell off his eye, the pig-man noticed, “Oh yeah… you’ve been eating them raw for a long time”. The potato expert looked over the hungry and content friend eating away, “I can always do more if you’d like, they taste better cooked either way” and he also took a bite. They ate in silence mostly, a couple of words were exchanged but nothing much.

When Techno (who wasn’t as hungry as Dream) finished his snack, he looked over at the ‘ex toilet’ and got up to sit down next to it, rolling his sleeves up. Dream noticed, “Umf...Whatf awe you doingf?” He asked with his mouth full, making the friend smile, “I’ll start punching so you can rest a little more, we can swap whenever you feel rested and full enough” and he did start punching, Dream nodded, looking at the potato in his hand.

Now he understood why Phil and Wilbur liked Techno so much: who he saw as friends were treated with the utmost respect and care. He glanced over at the pig-man once more. But if you never saw this side of him… how could you even try and trust him? That’s why Quackity was so traumatized…

He squinted, the view of Techno standing between him and Tommy flashed in his mind, Dream’s eyebrows knitted.

Then why did Tommy give away Techno’s kindness for a dying country and people that didn’t care for him?

A deep sigh came from the man in the corner, snapping Dream back to his obsidian cell.

As long as Dream was sincere with Techno. they would have been both down to help the other. He finished munching on his meal. Yes, Techno owed one to Dream, but now that he was alone, with no friends or allies, transforming that debt into a friendship seemed like a gift. A gift Dream would treat with respect and gratitude.

“Thank you Techno…” Techno smiled, allowing a content noise to slip out of him, “What, for cooking a potato?” Dream shook his head even if the pig-man couldn’t see him, “No… For being my friend” the man in question turned to look at the white mask- no, underneath the white mask. “I don’t have a lot of friends myself y’know, I guess you could say we are two lonely dudes keeping each other company”.

Dream giggled, they hadn’t interacted that much until now… but he was sure he was going to enjoy being around him.

#dreamsmp #dreamsmp fanfiction #technoblade #dreamwastaken #awesamdude #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #tw torture mention #dream fanfiction #technoblade fanfiction

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noisypenguingardener · 3 years

Text

Streaming hearts - K.K x Reader

FLUFF WARNING ! ! !

Characters ; Kozume Kenma x Streamer!Reader

Summary ; Kenma meets his Favourite Streamer at a Meet and greet

CROSSOVER WARNING ; THIS WILL INCLUDE DREAM SMP MEMBERS ! ! !

IRL!KENMA

Side Note ; Y/N is apart of the Dream smp! with their streamer name ‘ Kitten ‘, I’m sorry if some of the mcyt or others are Out of character, I don’t watch them and my friend requested this so i don’t disapoint her or you guys and minor spelling mistakes!.

Y/N Features ; Y/N will have brown skin and dark brown hair with Brown eyes, they have average body weight, they are short ( 4′7 ), they also have a soft-girl and E-girl kind of thing going. ( big anime fan ).

( Includes a little Body Positivity because ya’ll are beautiful )

SHORT ONE-SHOT ! SHORT ONE-SHOT !

Kitten is Streaming !

Kenma’s eye’s widened at the notification and quickly tapped it, His favourite Streamer of all time was online ! .

Kitten or Otherwise known as Y/N was a big part of the Dream SMP, They had joined about a few months ago but became famous after beating Dream’s speed-run. Y/N was 17 year old person with beautiful dark brown hair, Of course to other’s they were considered ‘ ugly ‘ but to kenma they were the most beautiful human being that had ever entered earth.

Y/N wasn’t skinny nor were they fat, they was considered ‘ Average ‘. It didn’t matter thought, They were perfect.

If You had stretch marks, you are perfect. If you were over-weight, you are perfect, if you had no hair, who cares ! you are perfect!. No matter what Kenma always knew you are the one, A special human being.

Kenma Loved every part of you. . . you . . . You were important to him, You were like a goddess Descending from the skies. You, Y/n was a special princess no Queen ! everything about you was just. . . Drop Dead Gorgeous.

“ What’s up Chat ! today we are playing some...Uhm..Roblox? “

Kenma snapped out of it as soon as he had heard your sweet voice echo away from the screen.

“ Oh yeah! today we are playing roblox with Quackity!. . Hello? “ Y/N said with a soft laugh, From the other end you could hear someone struggling to get the mic in the right spot.

“ stop laughing ! “ Kenma heard a male voice complained like a child, Quackity another huge streamer who was the closest friend to Y/n.

After a Few Minutes all you could hear was laughter and jealous kenma noises, Yes maybe Kenma did have a little Crush on them.

Y/n’s laugh was angelic. . . well kinda, honestly they sounded like they were having a concussion and demonic but it was alright. Kinda.

“ and that’s the end of the stream! see ya Kitties “

“ sounds like Tiddies “

“ shut up Alex ! “

“ don’t call me that ?! “

Kenma sighed as he continued to hear Y/N and Quackity argue for the a Hundredth time that stream, god they sounded like siblings fighting over the last piece of cake.

The stream turned off with the last goodbye from Y/n, Kenma smiled lovingly at the screen as if he had just saw a angel falling from the sky gracefully.

“ Kenma! why are you looking at the screen like that! “ Kuroo’s voice entered his ears, Kenma sat up straight and looked at kuroo dead in the eyes.

“ I’m not and how did you get in here?! “ Kenma demanded, Kuroo laughed like a hyena.

“ your mum let me in,Kitten. Now guess what i have “ Kuroo said.

“what? “

“ A single ticket for you to go to Y/N’s meet or greet! “

Kenma’s eyes widened, What. . . ?! he started feeling weird like some type of butterfly entered his stomach. His face dusted with pink blush as his heart exploded with happiness, He couldn’t function properly before he figured out he was now in kuroo’s arms hugging him.

“Thank you so much kuroo!! I promise i’ll come to practice more often now! “ Kenma yelled out of pure happiness, Kuroo smiled softly looking down at his pudding friend.

No one could explain how happy kenma was, Not only did he get to met his favourite streamer of all time but He could finally. . . well . . . meet them! Kenma felt like cheering and jumping up and down. He couldn’t remember when he was as happy as now.

He finally had a chance.

Kenma walked through the crowded halls of the meet and greet, his social awkwardness was finally kicking in. He had never been in a room as full as this, He could see boys and girls talking and socialising ( or whatever that was..).

“ Hey, you look lost ! “ a voice behide kenma said, Kenma turned around and was met by a beauty..Kitten..no Y/N! .

Oh how Y/n looked so much better in real life, Their shining dark brown hair was in a messy high ponytail, They were wearing kitty ears,Black leather jacket, a Pink crop top and ripped jeans. They were also very short compared to him.

“ Y..your Kitten ! “ Kenma stuttered, He started sweating a little bit at the sight of them. Gulping down a fan girl scream he just stood there, awkwardly.

“ oh yes ! I’m Y/N also known as Kitten, You must a fan. whats your name? “ Y/N Questioned, Kenma smiled a little and finally got comfortable.

“ I’m Kozume Kenma From Tokyo ! i also play volleyball “ He told her, Y/N giggling lovingly at him before take his hand.

“ I’ll take you to the others alright? The Meet and greet already started and i’m running late “ Y/n admitted embarrassedly , growing light pink of their skin.

“ Oh okay ! “

Y/n nodded and ran to the area where they were suppose to be with kenma in her hands ( does that make sense?? ), Kenma was a redder then a strawberry by now. People were staring and pointing at the two which made it way way worse.

by the time they had arrived everyone was already asking questions, till a fan suddenly pointed and screamed towards Y/n ( really?! ). everyone turned around and eyes widened at the connected hands of Y/N and a shy kitten looking boy. Minx suddenly took the mic.

“ oi Fucker, why are holding hands with my wife ?! “ She yelled out, a lot of people started laughing. Kenma really forgot, Y/n got minecraft married to Minx.

“ Calm down Waifu!, he’s just a friend “

“ You sound like adrien agrest, Y/n “ a fan said quite loudly, this time everyone laughed.

Kenma blushed and made a little kitten meow inside his nekoma jumper Yaku made for him, Y/N stopped laughing and turned red after hearing the noise come out of the boys mouth.

“ Hey y/n your fucking blushing ! “

“ Stop exposing me ! “

“ Never “

“ Shut up Childinit! “

“ Shut up Kitty-Licker “

It was never a surprise to see a arguement between a mcyt and Y/N always one of them gotta start drama.

“ Hey,here’s my number, text me sometimes cutie “ Y/N winked at kenma as they slid a paper into his jumper, Kenma gasped loudly before dying ( he didn’t really..you get it right oh okay ).

TIME SKIP

After 9 months, Y/N and kenma kept in touch talking to each other and sometimes meeting up in person. Which meant Y/N flying over to Japan and seeing his volleyball games, and sometimes they even streamed together. It was obvious they both had a crush on each other.

Sometimes Y/N would start blushing at Kenma’s sleepy voice and stuck up for him whenever some one would give him some type of hate, Or the time when someone called kenma ‘ their kitten ‘ Y/N would freak out and start cussing like crazy. it was funny .

Kenma would be such a big simp, He lied to Sapnap,Georgenotfound and Badboyhalo during a Minecraft man-hunt lying about Y/n’s location and tricking them. If Tommy told Y/n to shut up Kenma would Cat hiss at him or Bark sometimes.

No one had the guts to tell on of them that it was obvious about the crushes, as they didn’t want a cussing Y/n and a Cat hissing Kenma.

There was also jealous moment’s of the two, Let’s recap them shall we?. roll the clips ! ! ! .

CLIP ON KITTEN’S STREAM ‘ PLAYING AMONG US WITH THE CREW ‘

DEAD BODY REPORTED !

Y/N un-muted their mic as their screen flashed, Onto a Meeting. People already started arguing as they blamed each other, Y/N rolled their eyes and sighed deeply as they stared at the red tag on their name.

“ Well who was it ? “ Y/n asked calmly, “ Someone here is lying ! I was in electrical doing wires and the download task in there, Nikki and Tubbo were with me so i can back them up “ .

“ Yes ! We were all in a room together doing task! see ! “ Tubbo gloated out of happiness, Finally someone believed him.

“ I can vouch that, I was there too. “ Nikki said innocently.

“ Kitty, where were you ? “ Y/N questioned Kenma.

“ Oh, I was at security looking through the Cameras, I did the wires when i first entered. “ Kenma said, ignoring all the other voices..

“ were you really pretty boy ? “ Minx flirted a little, Y/n could feel a bubble inside of them building up as she semi-glared at their screen, The chat saw the semi-glare and started freaking out.

“ i was, Pretty girl “ Kenma flirted back, During his time with the group he slowly started gaining confidence.

“ ooooo pretty girl? fucking bullshit “ Minx exclaimed.

Y/n’s hands turned into a fist as they grew quiet, of course they knew it was all play flirting but the fire inside of them wanted to lash out and burst. Oh they knew who they were gonna kill next, Hopefully Dream ( The other imposter ) knew too.

“ Okay quit flirting in-front of KiTtYs S/O “ Wilbur Joked, They all laughed except for Y/n who was about to explode.

“ we are getting off track, George is DEAD! “ Dream said angrily, Everyone-else agreed and voted SKIP just for now.

NO ONE WAS VOTED OFF

Y/N quickly turned the lights off and everyone started running to fix the lights, of course as they were running Y/N killed Fundy who was standing right next to minx.

Y/N quickly ran in-front of minx as Someone reported the body,Oh hell was about to break lose.

DEAD BODY REPORTED !

“ that was quick ! “ Wilbur suddenly exclaimed, Tommy agreed.

“ Minx fucking killed Fundy! “ Y/N yelled, Minx pulled out a offended face and started cussing.

“ excuse me mother fucker!, I did not do any funny shit like that. “

“ yes you did! Fundy was right behide you, Of course i didn’t see you kill him but you and fundy were together ! “

“ I believe Y/n, as we were running i saw fundy and Minx last together “

“ are you FUCKING serious?! “

“ i believe Y/n, no matter what “

“ shut up pretty boy ! “

“ Guess we’re voting Minx off! “

“ NO YOUR FUCKIN NOT “

“ sorry minx”

“ it’s okay Nikki, and fuck you guys “

MINX WAS EJECTED

As everyone started running, Y/N and Dream stuck together following after Wilbur and Nikki. Of course they stuck together, Dream closed the Med-bay doors as Dream and Y/N killed Wilbur and Nikki.

After the door opened, they both ran out and met up with Tommy and kenma.

But Unlucky for them Dream accidently thought they were gonna do a double kill and killed Tommy in-front of Kenma. Y/N didn’t do anything but kenma had reported the body as fast as he could

Y/N gulped down guilt as the screen flashed, Maybe kenma knew it was Y/N? or maybe Dream would start hating for but nothing happened.

DEAD BODY REPORTED !

It was quiet, all you could hear was breathing in mics.

“ . . . I was alone. . . “ Tubbo said quietly into his mic, Y/N sucked in breath and bit their lip.

“ I was with Dream and Kenma...” Y/N explained. “ none of us could’ve done it except for you bo “

“ But..it wasn’t me ! “

“ it was, I mean we were all together the whole round except for you ! “

“ Yeah but that doesn’t make any sense,Dream!. I was at the other side of the map “

“ Sorry,Tubbo. Try harder next time “ Kenma chuckled a little after saying the sentence, Y/N froze. Was kenma really sticking up for them?...

“ but. . . Kenma ! “

“ sorry bo “

TUBBO WAS NOT THE IMPOSTER

Then the screen flashed.

IMPOSTERS WIN

“ REALLY?! “

“ KENMA THEY KILLED ME IN-FRONT OF YOU “

“ All i can say is simp “

“ Guys don’t blame kenma ! “

“ And people call me a fucking simp.”

“ sorry, but Y/N deserves a chance. “

“ what about me?! “

“ no <3 “

Y/N laughed as they started fake kissing kenma’s little icon, Kenma really was a simp.

“ Ew stop kissing there is children in here “

“ HEY “

“OI “

NEXT CLIP ( this one is short asf )

“ Hey Kitten, Your cute. “

“ HISS, HISS GET AWAY FROM THEM ! “

“ IT WAS A JOKE! “

NEXT SHORT CLIP

“ Hey kitty boy ~ “

“ Call him that again and your dead meat, Karl. “

“ :( “

END OF CLIPS

Kenma sighed as he Laid in bed, sadly. Today wasn’t a very good day in general, some kid decided to make fun of Kenma in a game and body-shamed him, It didn’t feel as nice when Kenma realised the young boy was right about him.

It hurt, it really did, Most people don’t understand how much it pains other people. Kenma Grabbed his phone and decided to finally tell Y/N how he felt for them.

TEXT MESSAGES

- My Princess peach -

Y/n, You online ? - Sent. . . . . Read

Yup! What is it Kitty ? - From My Princess Peach Just now

Well, I wanna talk real quick rn - Sent. . . . . . . Read

Sure, what is it? - From My Princess Peach Just Now

I kinda like you, no i do like you ! i love you wait sorry that’s much just forget it ! - Sent. . . . Read

i- - From My Princess Peach Just Now

I like you too, Maybe Love’s a bit too much. - From My Princess Peach Just Now

Yeah Lmao, so..what do you say? - Sent. . . . . Read

If it’s about being your Gamer girlfriend, Then yeah.sure - From My Princess Peach Just Now

oh..Then I’m Your Volleyball boyfriend ! - Sent . . . . Read

I’m coming over - From my Princess Peach Just Now

I.. - Sent..Read

HOLY WHAT?! - Sent . . . . Read

see ya - From My Princess Peach Just Now

My Princess Peach Is Offline.

WHat - Sent . . . . . . .. . ..

TEXT MESSAGES OVER

THE END - MAYBE PART 2 ?!

#Haikyuuxreader #Kenmaxreader #KenmaxY/N #kenma x oc #kenma x gender neutral reader

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alouispo · 3 years

Text

Alright- this fic is definitely going to be extremely dark. There is definitely going to be a lot of triggers in here. The reason why I wrote it so dark though is because the fiction that I've read isn't as dark as I would like, but then again I'm a very angsty person so that would make sense.

Trigger warnings// gaslighting, slight abuse, manipulation, depictions of violence, panic attacks, breakdowns, things like that- (also swearing and stuff)

Don't say i didn't warn you! (i cant put the break yet so ill do that later)

Ranboo didn't know what to expect when he went to visit Tommy in his exile. Surely he didn't expect anything good of course, but wasn't expecting anything too bad either. The Enderman hybrid could only visit the sixteen-year-old once every two weeks. If he would visit more than that, Dream would most likely prohibit him from visiting at all. Of course he would. The former vice president is in exile after all.

Walking through that Nether portal and stepping into Logstedshire, Ranboo was immediately filled with concern. Looking around the area, it seemed like the place had gone through hell and back. On the beach there were tons of Seagulls picking at what seemed like cake on the table; the place that Wilbur had built when Tommy came to exile for the first time was blown to smithereens, the tent was ripped to shreds and also blown up, and there were a bunch of random images of people from L'manburg hung up on wooden signs which were ripped brutally.

He also noticed the huge pillar in the distance, built on top of a large hill behind Logstedshire. Ranboo didn't want to think of the worst, so he decided to just ignore it.

Deciding that maybe it was a bad time to come after he called around for a bit with no reply, Ranboo walked back through the Nether towards L'manburg, trying to stay positive as tears started to drip down his face.

Tubbo didn't ask anything when Ranboo came back from Logstedshire in silence. His presence didn't give off a good vibe compared to his usual lively self which is full of positivity. 'Something must have happened,' he thought to himself. 'But what?'

Tommy had to get away. If he didn't he would be slaughtered eventually. If he didn't get away now, he wasn't sure he would be able to survive until the end of his exile.

The sixteen-year-old had been walking through the cold plains of the frozen biome for what seemed like hours. It was freezing oh, and he meant that literally. Also make matters worse, his clothes were worn out and he didn't have any shoes. The only bit of warmth that he kept was Wilbur's old hat. The one that he wore when he was alive. His physical and mental state didn't help him at all either. His body was weak from poor eating habits along with bruising and cuts. He didn't want to think about how he got them, so he pushed the thought out of his mind. His mental state was slowly deteriorating oh, Tommy becoming desensitized to nearly everything around him.

Not paying attention to any of his surroundings, the teenager tripped on a rock with his bare feet. The rock was unfortunately sharp and cut deep through the bottom of his foot not allowing him to walk. The cold was numbing it for a bit, so he wouldn't feel the actual pain for a while. His expression not changing, Tommy attempted to get up. The cold only pushed him down, adding the numbness of his limbs. He shivered as a harsh gust of wind pushed past him. Its not like it would matter to anyone if he decided to lay in the snow for a while. Gaining comfort in the softness of the cold, Tommy closed his eyes, promising that he would only sleep for a little bit.

His bloodlust was strong, but how strong he didn't know. Technoblade first melted when he opened the door to throw out some rotten flesh. It made him stop in his tracks as the voices started to scream for blood. His eyes narrowed as he looked in the direction he assumed it was coming from. Being logical, the pig thought that it was just an animal that had hurt themselves badly while falling off a cliff or running into a tree, but this was different. Techno had already known what the smell of animal blood was like, he means, it's pretty common for animals to get hurt around here. This was different though. Technoblade smelled human blood, or at least something similar to human blood. The scent was so strong and made the voices scream louder, his eyes dilating with the inability to control himself.

Dropping everything that he was doing previously, and forgetting to close the doors of his house before he left, the pig trudged towards the source of what he was smelling. Even in the thick snow, his movement and eyesight were enhanced. It didn't seem to slow him down at all as he moved stealthily. He hadn't remembered the last time he felt so sensitive to everything around him. So aware.

Picking up the pace as the voices begged him to go faster, techno felt the scent getting stronger. He knew he was close, he could almost taste it. The words blood for the blood god repeated in his head over and over as he continuously got stronger. Excitement built up in his chest at the thought of a new prey. He could see in the distance that someone was laying in the snow. 'Weak and helpless,' the voices chanted loudly. 'Kill them!' They screamed.

Before he could obliged to the voices, techno blade paused. He was sure he recognized who was lying in the snow. Before he knew it, the voices had suddenly switched tunes, all of them saying that it was Tommy who lay there and to help him. Concerned etched into his features as the blood lust calmed down, I letting him think clearly for once. The blade examined the 16-year-old boy as he kneeled next to him. It seems that the vice president was unconscious, and it seemed like the blood was coming from him. Searching his body and around him, he found a blood trail following Tommy for about two feet. A sharp rock caught his eye, leading him to assume that Tommy had cut his foot while walking. Picking the boy up as the thought of it getting infected filled his mind, Technoblade raced back to his house. It didn't also help how freezing cold it was, and how abnormally light the teenager was.

When he arrived to his base, the blade immediately slammed the door shut, startling Edward who was asleep with his dirt block. Technoblade climbed up the ladder rapidly and place Tommy on his bed before practically jumping back down it to get some bandages and a healing pot. Again, repeating the process of racing of the ladder, technical blade started on healing The cut on Tommy's foot. The main reason he was rushing so much was because he was afraid the voices would flip their switch again and decide that they want Technoblade to kill Tommy. After taking a few hours to heal the child, Techno took off his cape and covered the younger brother with it along with a few blankets. He wasn't sure how long the he could assume former vice president was outside in the cold. For all he knew, Tommy could have hyperthermia and also some other sickness on top of that.

The emperor took the time to examine Tommy Innit, Remembering how light the kid was when he picked him up. Tommy looked frail. He never thought of a more unfitting word to describe the former. He looked like he had barely eaten since the last time he saw him, say six or seven months ago. There were bruises on his face along with some cuts and a newly placed bandage on his nose. His golden hair that was usually fluffy and bright was dirty and matted, some sticks, leaves, and snow all mixed together in it. Every few minutes, Tommy would start shaking and hug himself before changing position and going back to sleeping like a dead man. He also noticed the bags under his eyes. Techno debated whether they were worse than his or not, but it was pretty obvious that it was terrible how he could have gotten those bags in such a short amount of time. He caught a glimpse of Tommy's forearm, which was worryingly covered in bandages.

Technoblade wanted to ask what it happened to him, but he decided it was better that he didn't for now. Climbing back down the ladder to go make some food, Techno left the child alone to sleep, preparing for when he would wake up.

#sbi au fanfiction #dmsp fanfiction #tommyinnit #techno and tommy #exile arc

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

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Field of Poppies Part 16

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 16: Some news comes to Amelia and she’s not sure how to handle it without Tommy by her side.

Two more months went by. Amelia heard often from Tommy. Every week or two she received a letter and replied immediately. She told him about everything she could think of. Anything that might bring a smile to his face, to ease his burden. Whatever she could do to remind him of home and give him hope for the future. She told him the funny things Max did, the little quirks in his blossoming personality.

He refuses to go to bed unless I’ve checked under his bed for monsters. I think Finn might have been telling him some stories.

He’s fascinated by baby Wilbur. I don’t think he believes me when I tell him he was a baby once. His reasoning is, if he can’t remember it, it never happened. I showed him the photograph of when he was a baby, only six months old. He couldn’t be convinced that it was him.

It’s strange. It feels so long ago, yet, it only feels like it was yesterday. I often wonder where all that time went.

~~~~~~

“Breakfast, Mel?” Martha was in the kitchen when Amelia and Max came into Six Watery.

She went to answer that, no she wasn't feeling very well so she didn't have much of an appetite. But instead, she was immediately hit with a strong smell. Her stomach turned and she dropped Max’s hand so she could rush upstairs to the bathroom.

Polly heard retching from down the hall, so went to investigate. “Oh, heavens.” She found Amelia at the toilet. “Easy.” She soothed and pulled the young woman’s hair back away from her face. Dread came over the woman as she realized her earlier intuitions were confirmed. “Dear, I think you and I need to have a talk.”

~~~~~~~

“Letter, Tom.”

Tommy took the letter from the passing soldier and felt relief wash over him. The same relief he got every time Amelia’s letters arrived. Despite being in the middle of trench warfare, he had her letters to keep him sane.

Tommy,

I must admit it hasn’t gotten much easier these last few weeks. I still miss you more than I can ever describe. Everything reminds me of you. Max always asks for you. It’s hard to bear sometimes. But I manage to get through every day.

I have news. I want so desperately to be happy but I’m so heartbroken that you aren’t here so I can tell you in person. But Polly believes I’m pregnant. It may be too early to know, but I don’t want to question her either. The signs seem to match up with the timing.

I don’t know how to feel any more if I’m being honest. I need to hear back from you as soon as possible. I hope you and everyone else is safe. I miss you all. I will write you a longer letter when I've gathered my thoughts. But for now, I needed you to hear the news.

Love, Amelia

Tommy wasn’t sure what to say as he stared blankly at his wife's handwriting. The urgency he felt to return home was only heightened. He carefully folded up the letter and put it in his rucksack.

“Tom?” Arthur was sitting nearby, his back up against the wall of the trench.

“Mel’s pregnant.” He replied before his brother even needed to ask what was wrong.

He frowned and passed his brother a cigarette. “You think she’s going behind your back while you’re away?”

“No.” Tommy shook his head adamantly. He took the cigarette and lit it with a match. “She’d never do that. Never. It makes sense, I suppose.” He mumbled to himself. “She’d be about three months along.”

Arthur nodded. “Well, guess we can try to get you back by the time the baby’s born.” He smiled slightly, trying to give his brother hope.

But there was little hope left in the trenches. In those damn tunnels. At that point, Tommy could only hope he found his way back to Birmingham alive. Asking for anything else would be wishful.

~~~~~~~~~~

Around five at night, Polly closed up the betting shop. The other girls had gone home but Martha and Amelia remained.

“Well, Pol, you did say she could have the next baby,” Martha said, trying to keep the atmosphere light. In all other times, the news of a baby would be such a happy occasion. But those days, nothing seemed to be good news.

Amelia tried to laugh but she couldn’t even muster a smile. Every muscle in her body felt heavy. There was no use trying anymore. “I feel like such a monster.” She mumbled.

“Why?” Her sister-in-law asked.

“Because I don’t want to be pregnant.” She put down her pencil to rub her tired eyes. “I don’t want to be pregnant without Tommy here. I’m not ready to raise two children alone.”

“You’re not alone.” Polly insisted as she walked over to the table, setting the keys down.

“You know what I mean.”

Martha looked to Polly, sharing a concerned look. It would only be a harder pregnancy if Amelia fought herself the whole time. They couldn’t make it any easier for her though. They couldn’t magically wish Tommy home. If they could, the war would’ve ended weeks ago. It never would have started to begin with.

“You told him?” Polly asked, sitting down.

“I sent a letter two days ago. I haven’t told Max. I don’t know what to even say.”

“You don’t have to think about it right away. You have plenty of time.”

Amelia nodded but she disagreed. Six months wasn’t enough time. She hoped every day that she’d get the news Tommy was coming home. But for whatever reason, maybe common sense, she didn’t see him home by the time six months was up. With every passing day, it felt like more and more time would pass before she saw him again.

Tears flooded her eyes as the worst scenarios came to the forefront of her mind. “What if it’s years?” She let out a quiet sob. “What would I ever say to the child? What if he never comes home?”

“Hush, now.” Polly wrapped an arm around her. “There’s no need to think of such things.” She soothed even though she knew these things were not outside the realm of possibilities. “You know that stress will only make things more difficult for you. You need to remain optimistic. You have a family that will be with you the whole way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia’s image kept invading Tommy’s nightmares. This would be startling alone because he never associated her with terror. She had always been a dream come true. But in the trenches, she joined his worst fears.

He saw her face on the soldiers who he’d seen die. He heard her voice screaming for him from the depths of the tunnels. The worst one came after a few days of little to no sleep. He finally got a chance for shut-eye and his worst fears descended upon him.

Amelia had come into view, looking as she normally did back home. But in her arms, she was carrying Max.

Help

Max was torn apart, almost as if he was mauled by a wild animal. Blood poured down Amelia’s arms as she carried their son to him.

Help

Tommy couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything to save his son.

Help

As she got closer, Tommy could see Max was still alive. His eyes were open and he was breathing.

Daddy?

Tommy awoke in a cold sweat, screaming. It took both Jeremiah and Danny to quiet him and stop him from thrashing around. From that point on, Tommy never wanted to sleep again.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hold still, Max.”

“Mummy, I want to see it!”

“No, love, this isn’t our camera. We can’t break it. Now, please stay still.”

“Mummy, I won’t break it, I wanna see it!”

“Max.” Amelia looked up from the camera lens with a stern look. “I said no. Now please, stand still. If you’re moving all over the place then the photograph will come out blurry.”

The little boy crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. His mother raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that what you want to send to daddy? You want to send him a photograph of you making a face?” It was difficult to be frustrated with him. Such a sweet little boy with chocolate-colored waves of hair and lovely hazel eyes. Even when he made such a face, he was precious. Truly, he was the apple of Amelia’s eye.

Max pulled a pout for another few moments before deciding to smile.

“There’s a good boy. Now, stand still for just a second. I want to make sure it comes out perfect for daddy.”

It had been a week and she had yet to hear back from Tommy regarding her letter about the pregnancy. But Amelia was trying to stay optimistic. It usually took a week for the letter to get to Tommy, and another week to get a response, should he write back immediately. Usually, he did. But she figured that maybe this time, he would need some time to think. It couldn’t be easy to process such information. Amelia was still having a hard time thinking about the baby and she wasn’t in the middle of an active battlefield.

She had already sent a picture of herself and Max before but they were ones she already had. The one of Max was only a few months after he was born. She borrowed a camera from a friend to send a more updated photograph.

~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of days later, as she tucked the photographs into an envelope along with a letter, Amelia thought about what Tommy might do when he opened it. She longed to see the smile on his face when he saw the picture of Max doing his best to stay perfectly still for the camera. Maybe he would show the others around him. She longed to see the pride in his eyes when he told the other soldiers that was his son. His Max. Maybe he’d tell him the news. His Amelia was pregnant again. He’d be having another child. Perhaps he’d speculate. Wonder if it was a girl this time or another boy.

A teardrop fell onto the envelope as Amelia sat at her desk in the betting shop. If she couldn’t be there for him, to comfort him, then the least she could do was try to put a smile on his face. Even for the briefest of moments.

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bookishbarnowl · 3 years

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Stained-glass Secrets

Tommy most definitely doesn't have a secret. There is nothing Tubbo could potentially find out about him that would have a negative impact. Nope. Shove off.

Or: the wingfic I’ve been meaning to write for months

Warnings: None

Relationships: Tommy & Tubbo (platonic)

Word Count: 1,451

Ao3 Link: Here

Tommy hurriedly yanked a shirt over his head, wincing as the fabric rubbed over the bandages on his back. His wings twitched uncomfortably under the restraints and he grimaced, wishing he could let them flutter free. They’d been trapped for over 24 hours now, he hadn’t been able to let them out since Tubbo was sleeping over at his house for the night. They were also the reason he was getting dressed in the bathroom. He ruefully ruffled his hair and twisted around as best he could to look at his back in the mirror, making sure his wings were laying flat.

His brow wrinkled. There was an odd pucker visible through his shirt. One of his bandages must’ve come untucked during the night. He tugged it off and craned his neck, examining the loose end. He wouldn’t be able to get it to lie flat without re-doing it. He heaved a sigh and grabbed the end, unwinding the wide strip of cloth and wrapping it around his wrist as he went. He arrived at the end, and his upper left wing flickered free.

He let it rest for a moment before he had to tuck it back in, admiring the way its veined panels flashed in the fluorescent lights. It was styled after a dragonfly, tinted emerald green with hints of teal around the edges. Only Phil and his brothers knew he had the mutation, and with all the prejudice Altereds faced he was going to keep it that way. Techno, whose boar tusks were impossible to hide, had given him enough lectures to make it abundantly clear that he would be treated differently if people found out about the four insect wings he had hidden under his clothes.

Above all, he wanted to keep them secret from Tubbo. He couldn’t bear it if his best friend didn’t want to be around him anymore. He sighed in resignation and reached out for the tip of his wing, pressing it flat to his back and folding it in half so the end would sit in the small of his back.

A knock sounded on the door, and he jumped, letting go in surprise as Tubbo’s voice called to him from the other side.

“Do you have my toothbrush in there?” he asked. “I didn’t get it last night.”

Tommy glanced to the side, and sure enough, the unfamiliar green-handled brush was sitting on the side of the sink. “Yeah,” he replied.

“Have you got your trousers on yet?” his friend asked.

“Yeah, but-”

Tubbo didn’t wait for him to finish, flinging the door wide. Tommy yelped and grabbed for his wing, desperately trying to shove it behind him before it was seen, but it was too late. His best friend was staring straight at it, mouth dropping agape as his eyes went wide.

Running on pure panic, Tommy reached out and slammed the door in his face, throwing his body weight against it so it couldn’t be reopened.

“Tommy, wait!” Tubbo yelled, jiggling the handle.

“What the heck, man!” he shouted back.

“I just wanted my toothbrush, I didn’t think you’d have a frickin’ wing flapping on your back!”

“You didn’t have to barge in on me like that!” Tommy knew he was being defensive and angry, but he didn’t care. His secret was out now. He’d just lost his best friend. “Go away,” he snapped.

“No,” Tubbo stubbornly insisted. “Why would you want me to leave? We’ve gotta talk about this!”

“No we don’t,” he said in reflex, then Tubbo’s words caught up with him. He wasn’t leaving right away, surely that was a promising sign? “You can say what you want from the other side of that door.”

Instead of being angry, like Tommy expected, his friend’s voice rose into a plaintive whine. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t exactly make a habit of showing people,” he snapped. “You’ve talked to Techno, you know what he deals with.”

“Exactly! Do you ever see me doing that to him?”

Tommy paused and considered this. Now that he thought about it, Tubbo had never seemed bothered by his brother like most people were. “No…” he acknowledged.

“Just come out here.”

Tommy’s anger was burning away into embarrassment. He reluctantly turned around and opened the door again, looking away when Tubbo’s face split into a bright smile. The pair sat down on his bed, Tommy’s gaze fixed on his hands clenched tightly in his lap and his friend unable to look away from the twitching dragonfly wing on his back. He reached out a careful finger.

“Can I?” he asked.

Tommy nodded. Tubbo lightly brushed his hand over the glassy appendage, oohing and aahing over the glossy texture. After a few moments of fawning he too folded his hands in his lap.

“I haven’t told you about my biological dad, have I?” he said softly.

Tommy shook his head. “Dream adopted you when you were three, right?”

“Yeah,” Tubbo confirmed. He grabbed his phone off of the dresser and opened his camera roll, starting to scroll. “But I met Schlatt for the first time a couple years ago, before you moved here.”

He tilted his screen and showed Tommy a picture of him and another man, smiling and laughing over an ice cream sundae. The man was broad and scruffy, staring down at Tubbo with a brilliant grin. He had a navy baseball cap crushed over dark, wavy hair, the hat slightly pushed up by two large, curled ram horns on the side of his head. Tommy’s eyes went wide.

“That’s your dad?”

Tubbo giggled at his shock. “Yup. He lives over in the States. Dream went through paperwork hell trying to get me his phone number so we could meet.” His happy expression dulled. “Altereds have it a lot worse over there. That’s kinda why I ended up with Dream.”

“Oh.” Tommy wasn’t exactly sure what to do with that piece of information. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. He’s going to try and make another trip this summer, if he can get his passport renewed. You can meet him too! He’s awesome.” He put his phone down, eyes returning to Tommy’s back. “You can take your other wing out if you want to, now that I know.”

Tommy’s gut was swirling with beautiful relief. Tubbo honestly didn’t care if was an Altered or not. He reached behind him, tugging at the ends of the other bandages. “I have three others, actually,” he announced as his lower left wing sprang back into shape. His right pair soon followed.

“That’s so cool,” Tubbo gushed admiringly as he flapped them a few times. “Can you fly with them?”

“Of course,” Tommy scoffed, standing up and heading over to his closet. “I got going over 50 kilometers an hour once.”

“That’s incredible!”

“Yeah, I’m an awesome flyer,” he boasted, pulling out one of the shirts that Wilbur had cut a wing slit into and pulling it over his head. He arranged the fabric around his wings and did up the zipper under them, smirking at Tubbo’s awestruck expression.

“Could you carry me?” he asked next.

“Sure I could.” Probably. He’d never flown with anything very heavy before. Wilbur weighed enough to prevent him from taking off, but Tubbo was a lot lighter than his beanpole of an older brother. He could manage him.

“Where do you go flying?”

“There’s an old campsite a ways away with a lot of empty space that nobody ever goes to. Y’know when Dad takes me fishing? That’s where we go.”

“So that’s why you never wanted me to come. I thought it was just some weird paternal bonding thing.”

“Ugh, no. I hate fishing. Techno tried to take me once and I was bored out of my skull. Flying, on the other hand-” he lifted a few inches off the ground, wings beating into a buzzing blur and sending breezes scurrying through the room- “is never boring.”

Tubbo was completely starstruck. “You’ve gotta take me,” he begged. “Next time you go I’m going with you.”

Tommy dropped back to the ground, grinning fiercely. “Absolutely.”

He was so lucky. It felt so great to have the secret off his chest at last, and he no longer had to worry that every hug he gave his best friend would end in disaster. He ran forward and grabbed his surprised friend in a tight embrace, laughing as it took him a few seconds to return the hug.

“Thanks, Tubbo. You’re awesome,” he told his best friend, his wings fluttering joyfully behind him. Sunlight caught their edges and made them look like a glowing kaleidoscope. Everything was okay, and he couldn’t be happier.

#i have no idea how to use this site #they're best friends your honor #also on ao3 #mcyt #fanfic #dadschlatt #if canon won't give me fatherly dream i will write it myself #tommyinnit #tubbo #wingfic

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3000-200-grains-of-salt · 3 years

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SBI: Survival 101 (SBI Fanfiction)

Read it on Wattpad here: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/275527714-sbi-survival-101-my-version

Chapter 1: Great View From Up Here

A shiny black alarm clock strikes nine PM.

Tommy had been waiting for this day for months. Tonight, he is finally going to see a concert by his favourite band, Lovejoy. Tommy's parents weren't as ecstatic as he was when he told them his plans. Even after weeks of begging, telling them he'd pay for it, even promising to do extra chores, the answer was still a resounding "no".

So, like any other teen without permission to do something, Tommy snuck out.

Grabbing his red and white camera, a few microSD cards, and a pre-loaded backpack, Tommy slid open the window and clambered out. The sun was casting its last rays of light on the surrounding neighbourhood and the warm night breeze gently brushed Tommy's golden hair. He slid onto the grass and walked to the bus stop.

All of the teen movies really hyped this up way too much. Sneaking out was way easier than Tommy thought. At 9:15, the evening bus arrived right on schedule. Tommy jumped on and dropped a few dollars into the driver's open hand. Sitting down on one of many empty seats, the excitement finally hit Tommy. He smiled. Today would be one of the best days he's had for a while.

Tommy spent the 20 minutes on the bus hyping himself up for the upcoming ecstasy. His smile only grew wider as the bus slid to a halt in front of an outdoor stadium glowing with lights. Tommy got out of his seat, thanked the bus driver, and jumped off. He tried to contain his excitement as he walked to the entrance. He showed the guard his ticket and stepped into the concert. Even though Tommy was early, the crowd was huge. Burgundy posters with Lovejoy's symbol hung on every empty surface. Shops were selling novelty Lovejoy merchandise.

Tommy remembered that his friends Tubbo and Ranboo were coming as well. He scanned all of the people standing around him, looking for Ranboo's tall silhouette. Tommy spotted him over by the snack bar, Tubbo standing next to him. Shoving his way through the crowd, Tommy made his way over towards Tubbo, using Ranboo as a beacon.

"Tubbo! Ranboo!" he called.

"Tommy! You made it!" replied Tubbo as his face lit up.

"Of course I did." Tommy turned his gaze to Ranboo. "Good to see you too, man." Tommy playfully shoved Ranboo.

"When's it gonna start?" asked Ranboo.

"I dunno. Maybe in like, two minutes?" replied Tubbo.

"Well then, we better get good spots. Right in the middle and towards the front, where we can see," suggested Tommy.

"Tommy, you can sit on my shoulders," Ranboo joked.

"Ha, ha, very funny. Come on, let's get to the front!" Tommy grabbed Ranboo's wrist and started pulling him towards the middle. But before they got there, the crowd pushed Ranboo from Tommy's grasp.

"Meet up with you later?" Ranboo yelled to Tommy.

"Yeah!" Tommy called back. He hoped that Ranboo would stay with Tubbo. Maybe his tallness would prevent Tubbo from floating away. Tommy pushed his way to the centre front just as the band members started to walk out on stage. The lead singer, Wilbur, had curly brown hair swept to one side and peeking out of a grey beanie. He was wearing a black leather jacket on top of a pale yellow T-shirt. The crowd clapped and cheered.

The opening riff started. Here we go.

"She's always asking,' Am I alright?' " Wilbur, the lead band member, sang.

"As if auspicious or in my pint," Tommy had never been so excited.

"I'll find the answer or a good night," He was being pushed around by the crowd.

"Thank God the time is short." Tommy looked around for Tubbo and Ranboo.

"And yes, you always do that one thing," The crowd was smothering.

"When you wrinkle up the nose bridge," Ranboo waved to Tommy.

"I'm tryin' to figure out what that meant," Tommy couldn't hear what Ranboo was saying.

"I took it as a taunt." Tommy turned away from Ranboo and faced the stage.

"Remember way back then in school?

Oh, did anybody ever say no to you?

Oh, did anybody ever say no to you? Whoa," Wilbur sang. Tommy was happy.

The rest of the show passed quickly and slowly at the same time. Tommy enjoyed every second. The band even played a bunch of songs that hadn't been released yet. After an hour of music, it was finally the end of the concert. Tommy had the entire thing videotaped and stored on a microSD card. He was sad it was over, but still satisfied. He started to look for Ranboo again.

Tommy saw him and Tubbo by the snacks again. Ranboo and Tubbo were buying treats for themselves. But when Tubbo turned around, he was holding up a green Lovejoy bandana. He waved to Tommy, yelling something that he couldn't hear over the hubbub. He gestured to the bandana, then pointed to Tommy. He understood. Tubbo bought Tommy a bandana. He smiled and started to walk towards the snack bench. But before he could reach them, a hunched man clad in red shoved past Tommy roughly.

"Hey! Watch it!" Tommy yelled. The man turned back towards him. Ghastly white eyes poked from beneath dishevelled hair. Thorny red vines crept over clammy grey skin. The man— thing? Whatever it was— turned away from Tommy and continued pushing through the crowd. Surprised outbursts came from whoever it shoved past. Tommy shook his head to clear it. His phone rang. It was Tubbo. Tommy accepted the call and held the phone up to his ear.

"Tommy? You there?" Tubbo's voice came through the speaker.

"Hi. Yeah. I'm here," Tommy looked around for Ranboo and Tubbo. "Where are you guys?"

"Uhh..." Tubbo paused. "We're towards the front of the stage. See you there?"

"Yeah. Hey, did you see that guy wearing red? He was kind of shoving his way through the crowd,"

"I did," Ranboo's voice piped in through the phone. "Kinda sus." Tommy ignored the joke.

"It doesn't matter anymore." Tommy shook his head. "Hey, I'm gonna go see if I can meet Lovejoy. Talk later?"

"Of course, big man. Have fun!" Click. Tubbo hung up. Tommy put his phone away. He started to walk to where the band was standing.

Tommy heard screaming behind him.

Tommy whipped his head around as the entrance doors flung open. Hundreds of people—were they people? They looked vaguely humanoid, but not enough— flooded in through the doors. All had glassy white eyes and dead grey skin. Thorny red vines clung to tattered clothing and ripped skin.

Tommy didn't know what the hell was going on.

All he knew was that the things—maybe zombies?—were spreading these vines that radiated evil. Tommy would have investigated more, but his fight or flight instinct kicked in. He fled. Faster than he had ever run before. He caught a glimpse of Ranboo and Tubbo sprinting out of the stadium unharmed and internally sighed with relief. They would be safe for now.

Tommy slid to a halt and surveyed his surroundings. He could barely see anything because of the stampeding crowd. His gaze turned to the stage, now devoid of any band members except for Wilbur, who was using his sturdy guitar like a club.

"HOW DO YOU LIKE MY MUSIC, FUCKER?" Wilbur knocked down a cluster of zombies. He was doing well, but seconds away from being overtaken. Adrenaline couldn't last forever.

Tommy snatched a heavy bass off of the stage and swung it at a bunch of zombies. Wilbur spun around, almost hitting Tommy as he smashed through the remaining zombies. He looked towards the huge doors of the exit. Tommy followed his gaze. A white van with Lovejoy's symbol on it sat just outside the doors.

Wilbur started running towards the van. Tommy followed, attacking any zombies that got in their way. Wilbur slipped on a green piece of cloth. Tears pricked Tommy's eyes as he realized what it was. The bandana Tubbo had bought him. Tommy grabbed it and spurred Wilbur onwards. The zombies were crowding around them. Wilbur and Tommy finally broke through the mass of bodies.

"GET IN THE VAN," Wilbur screamed. Tommy jumped into the driver's seat.

"Keys, keys, keys!!" Tommy exclaimed as Wilbur slammed the passenger door shut. He fumbled in his pockets and tossed Tommy the keys to the van. He shoved them in the socket and twisted the guitar-shaped keychain. The van shuddered to a start.

"Castaways... We are castaways..." The song from a kids' show blared through the speakers.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS MUSIC??" Tommy started spinning the radio dial.

"JUST DRIVE FUCKING DRIVE," Wilbur called back.

"WHY IS THIS ON THE RADIO??"

"SHUT UP, GREMLIN CHILD," Wilbur shoved Tommy's legs aside and pushed down the gas pedal with his left hand. He placed his right hand on the steering wheel and swerved away from a car just in time. The van veered onto the freeway. Tommy moved Wilbur's hand off of the wheel and straightened out the van. Wilbur sat back up and looked out the back of the van. He faced forwards and leant back. Tommy sighed and hoped that Tubbo and Ranboo were alright.

But for now, Tommy was in for a long night.

#so remember when kuwukie's twitch chat was brainrotting about an apocolyps sbi au?#yeah thats what this is #sbi fanfic #dream smp fanfiction

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hedwigstalons · 4 years

Text

High Expectations - Ch10

Two brothers for the price of one tonight. It turns out it was almost harder to get a decent photo of my sketchbook that it was to do the sketches themselves and I still needed the help of @willow-salix to do something with the lighting. She has many talents and I am abusing them all.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Ten

Jeff dialled his son’s number for a third time that day and yet again received nothing but a voicemail message. It looked like Gordon was once more going to be the cause of a tension headache for him. He tossed his phone down and dropped his head into his hand, rubbing his temples in an attempt to stave it off. When he did finally get through to Gordon he would have to have severe words about the importance of staying in contact. Yesterday he had been prepared to overlook the lack of a phone call to check in at the end of his journey, one of the few courtesies he expected when his sons, but to still be out of reach a day later was not acceptable. None of the others would have shown such a lack of respect for the rules but Gordon seemed determined to push the boundaries.

He glanced at the papers on his desk, reading through the details once again. It really was a very generous offer and rather more than he felt Gordon deserved, truth be told, given the boy’s current lack of enthusiasm for anything other than swimming. Wilbur Dandridge had thrown Jeff a lifeline that would give Gordon a solid start in a prestigious internship at his company, Gazelle Automations. The offer meant Gordon would need to move to New York but Jeff was more than willing to finance an apartment, just as he had for the others for their college studies.

Ever since college Jeff and Wilbur Dandridge had been firm friends, making a point of checking in every few months and keeping up to date with each others lives. Jeff hadn't meant to burden his friend with his family woes but he supposed it had been inevitable, Wilbur had always been the observant type and an empathetic listener. Wilbur seemed to have this innate ability to sense the needs of others, something that helped him in his work and allowed him to design products that people sometimes hadn’t even realised they needed. On this occasion he had come up with the offer of an internship for Gordon. The only problem was Wilbur needed a decision imminently and for that Jeff needed to get an answer from Gordon.

After three failed calls it was obvious he wasn’t going to have any luck getting hold of Gordon directly, he would have to take a different approach to track down the cause of his frustrations. He picked up his phone again and hit speed dial 2. This time the phone connected almost immediately, Virgil answering before the third ring had finished.

“Hi Dad, how are you?”

“Fine, fine” he said impatiently. “I just need to speak to Gordon, can you put him on.”

“Gordon?” There was a slight pause. “He’s not here.”

“Well when he gets back from wherever he's hiding, tell him to call me immediately. And get him to charge his damn phone.”

"Why would he be here? He’s grounded, isn’t he? He told me he wasn’t allowed to come.”

This time it was Jeff’s turn to pause as his son’s words sank in. Just the day before he had watched Gordon leave for the airport, bag in hand, ostensibly heading off for a few days in Denver. Now it would appear that same son had never arrived. He hadn’t grounded him. He'd watched him leave for the airport where the driver had reported that he'd dropped Gordon off outside, only leaving once Gordon was inside the terminal building as per normal. He was supposed to be in Denver, but it appeared that his son had never arrived.

“When did he tell you this?”

“Yesterday morning. Dad, what’s going on? Isn’t Gordon there with you?”

“No, and I don’t know where he is. Look, if he gets in touch with you just let me know.”

“Of course. And Dad, if you find him first please tell me. This isn’t like him” the worry in Virgil’s voice was clearly evident.

“Of course I will. Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

Jeff hung up, his stomach churning. In the space of a few minutes he had gone from angry to worried sick.

Of all his sons he had always found Gordon the most challenging but he would never have predicted the teen would run away. There was no denying that relations had become increasingly strained but he hadn’t realised it had gotten that bad.

He looked at the clock; his son had been missing for just over twenty-four hours but with no evidence of foul play the police probably wouldn't be interested, Gordon was nearly an adult after all. Well, just because the official authorities wouldn’t do anything yet didn’t mean he had to sit passively by. For all the frustrations he caused, all the arguments and heartache, Gordon was still his son. To the outside world he was a hard headed business man, distinguished astronaut and accomplished military leader. Few people got to see the other side to him, the paternal side, it was part of the reason why he kept his children out of the media. He wasn’t prepared to just wait for yet more time to pass, he would have to do some investigating himself.

Jeff logged in to his Air Terrainean account. He knew Gordon had made it to the airport but he had to have gone somewhere. By checking to see if his ticket had been used he would know if they needed to search Denver or there in Los Angeles. When the travel history screen finally loaded the word on the screen left him reeling.

Marineville.

It might be the home of a different force to that in which he had served in but Marineville was famous as the largest WASP base on the western seaboard. it was a military town with nothing else for miles around; if Gordon had boarded a flight for Marineville then there could only be one intended destination. It was time to make some more phone calls.

xoxoxox

Commander Shore looked up from his screen in surprise as the phone on the corner of his desk rang, the sharp trill cutting through his concentration. Calls themselves were not unusual but most of them came through the internal switchboard system, even his own daughter was unable to reach him directly but the distinctive ring indicated an outside line. Only a handful of people in the world had this number and he wasn’t expecting a call from any of them.

“This is Commander Shore” he greeted the caller.

“Colonel Jeff Tracy, Commander. I believe you have my son.”

Shore wracked his brains. Colonel wasn’t a designation within the World Navy and he could see no reason why anyone from the World Army Air Force or the domestic armed forces would be calling him; especially about their son.

“I’m sorry Colonel, but I don’t quite follow you.”

“My son, Commander. Gordon Tracy. He is at Marineville.”

Commander Shore waved over his assistant and hurriedly scribbled down the name on a piece of paper. He still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on but he hadn’t been given command of Marineville by being phased by the unexpected. Within moments the assistant had checked the Marineville logs and found a match for the name.

“Ah yes, Colonel. I can see that Mr Tracy is currently a participant on one of our selection courses”

“Well he shouldn’t be.”

“Excuse me, Colonel?”

“My son is seventeen, a minor. He does not have my authorization to be there and I want him home.”

Commander Shore was feeling decidedly on the back foot, dealing with irate parents was not normally part of his job description.

The assistant returned a second time and slid a piece of paper in front of him. The sheet bore the public resume of Jeff Tracy. No wonder Shore had been feeling the nagging prickles of recognition at the name; the man on the other end of the line was one of the richest and most influential in the country and had the ability to make life very difficult if he so chose.

“I have a copy of his permission form in front of me. I can assure you WASP takes these allegations very seriously…”

“This is not an allegation, it is hard fact. Your shoddy systems have allowed a child to waltz onto your base unchallenged. I will be sending someone to collect Gordon this afternoon. Just consider yourself lucky I’m not inclined to get my lawyers involved in this blatant disregard of protocol and maladministration.”

The line went dead.

Commander Shore leant back heavily in his chair. Technically everything that happened at Marineville fell under his jurisdiction but he wasn’t normally involved with the recruits. Heck, if his assistant hadn’t been so quick off the mark he wouldn’t have even known there was a selection course running, let alone who was on it or if any of them were under age.

Gordon wasn't the first person to try and join WASP against their family’s wishes and probably wouldn’t be the last but evidently this time the family was not going to just sit back and let it happen. Jeff Tracy was a formidable man and if he decided to make waves Shore wasn’t too sure how much support he would receive from his superiors. The very fact that Colonel Tracy had somehow accessed his direct line showed that the man had friends in high places.

Commander Shore passed the unenviable challenge of locating the missing Tracy son to his assistant. Marineville had a population of tens of thousands and covered several square miles; the selection course could be taking place anywhere. He just hoped they could find the boy before whoever Colonel Tracy had tasked to collect him arrived.

xoxoxox

Scott pulled into the visitors’ parking lot outside the Marineville security gate that stood guard over the base and screeched to a halt, slamming the door closed behind him. Of all the ways he had envisaged spending his day off this had not been part of his plans. A long run had been a possibility, maybe catch up on the stack of unwatched movies he had built up before heading into town to watch a band with a couple of the guys from his unit and, if he was lucky, pick up a girl. Instead the only thing he would be picking up today was a little brother.

His own Air Force base was about an hour east of Marineville and as the nearest family member he had been sent on a trek across the state to find Gordon and ship him back home on the next available flight. Instead of calming down on the journey his frustrations had built up further. The phone call from his father had ruined his day. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his brothers, it just rankled that he was expected to drop everything to sort out the mess. Jeff didn’t ask, he demanded. There was a clear expectation that he would do as he was told and Jeff left no room for argument. He wasn’t sure who he was more mad at; Gordon for engineering this whole situation or his father for still managing to dictate his life even from afar.

First Lieutenant Tracy on a good day was formidable but on a bad day he could be terrifying. Despite technically being off duty he had opted for his dress uniform and he cut an imposing figure in the dark blue, standing out starkly amongst the grey of the WASP. The man that strode across to the guard house had the aura of one who was used to being obeyed despite his relatively junior status and it was no surprise he was climbing the ranks so quickly.

“Can I help you, Sir?” the guard on duty acknowledged his approach.

“Scott Tracy.” He flashed his identification card. “I’m here to collect Gordon Tracy, I believe you are expecting me.”

“Very good, Sir” the guard said, after examining the waved credentials. “If you could just wait here a moment, your transport will be along soon.”

The memo, issued by none other than Commander Shore himself, had already come down regarding the Tracys and the instructions were clear, do everything to keep them sweet. Even after the briefest of interactions the guard was quite thankful he would not be involved beyond greeting the visitor. He certainly didn’t envy the Tracy who was the cause of all the trouble, the man in front of him looked stormy to say the least.

One phone call and five short minutes later and a jeep was approaching the guard house. Without waiting for an invitation, Scott climbed in and he and the driver were soon crossing the sprawling expanse that was Marineville. Before many more minutes had passed the jeep was rolling to a stop at their destination; a massive obstacle course that stretched away into the distance, the many elements looking like they would pose a stiff challenge to anyone tackling the beast.

“He’s not here” stated Scott bluntly, surveying the crowd of hopefuls waiting their turn.

“Sir, the timetable states that your brother is part of this group.”

Scott’s frown clearly showed his opinion on the record keeping abilities of WASP however he had little option but to follow his driver over to the officers in charge of the group. The two assessors acknowledged their approach, looking curiously at the out of place Air Force officer, but continued their job; one observing a cluster of participants out on the course through binoculars while the other jotted down the notes.

“Can I help you?”

Scott was saved from answering by his chaperone. “We have been alerted that there is an unauthorized minor in your cohort. First Lieutenant Tracy is here to escort his brother home.”

“Yes, but I can’t see him” Scott’s frown deepened as he took a closer look at the waiting group. “It looks like your information may be flawed.”

“He might be out on the course.”

“Might? Surely you know who you have out there.”

“WASP uses anonymous observation. Participant details are held by Central Control, we only know them as numbers to avoid bias” the assessor indicated the numbered armbands worn by each participant. “If your brother is listed as part of this group and is not with those waiting he must be one of the four currently on test. This is a group task so you will have to wait until they finish. It won’t take them long, they are making good progress now they have realised they they have to work together.”

The officers turned their attention back to the course and with nothing else to do Scott found himself also watching the progress of the group, not that he could see much. The course was massive and the participants were just four indistinct figures in distance. All he wanted to do was get Gordon, get out of there then head back to his own base; each passing minute was eating into his time off and he could feel the resentment building.

“So how are they doing?” the assessor making notes asked the observer with the binoculars; they still had a job to do and participants that needed grading.

“6 is looking strong and 3 is also putting in a solid performance. 10 is a borderline fail though unless they buck their ideas up.”

“What about 14?”

“Still leading the way and carrying the rest of the group; that lot wouldn’t be doing nearly so well without him.”

“He’s the one that figured out they had to work together?”

“Looked like it; they certainly all seem to be deferring to him now. He’s wasted in junior ranks. If he keeps up this level of performance I’ll be recommending him for the officer stream at the end of the course.”

“I know what you mean. Him and 5 have been the leading the way in all the tests and are both natural leaders although 14 put in a much stronger performance in the pool. I’ll be interested to see how 5 gets on out there when it’s his turn.”

“Well concentrate on these four for now. 10 is still lagging, I don’t think he would have made it over that last gap without 6’s help. 6 has certainly got the strength but is happy to let 14 lead.”

“And 3?”

“Keeping up and doing what he is told by the look of it; good balance and strength but a follower rather than a leader. You would think 14 had been doing this for years though, not faced with it for the first time. He is a quick thinker and the others are respecting his decisions. Definitely officer material.”

Scott listened to the conversation with vague interest. Participant 10 sounded like they were in trouble and might not make the cut but 14 must have made an impression going by the judgements being made. He valued those that could use their own initiative and wished he had few more like that in his own Air Force unit. Of course the military needed its followers too otherwise the whole structure would disintegrate but good leaders were hard to come by; he was tempted to try and have a quiet word with number 14 and see if he could sway him towards a life in the skies.

He wondered how his brother was faring; remembering his own military selection course and the desperate desire to make the grade. The distant figures were too far away for him to even work out if one was Gordon let alone make out their numbers, perhaps the family swimmer was the solid number 3, the good strength and balance sounded fitting. Not that it mattered though, their father had made it clear that Gordon was to be returned home immediately.

The four battling for their place within WASP had now reached the far end of the course. They disappeared for a moment as they dropped off the top of the final wall then came back into view as they ran back the length of the course to the start.

The rapidly approaching figures began to resolve themselves into identifiable shapes and Scott was able to pick out the distinctive sandy blonde hair and muscular silhouette of his sibling. It looked like he had been brought to the right place after all. His gaze hardened as the object of his mission drew nearer.

The change in atmosphere was noticeable to the WASP officers as Scott stiffened and they watched with some trepidation as the four figures raced for the finish line. Evidently the errant Tracy had been sighted and was not in for a happy reunion.

The quartet made it to the finish. One collapsed to the floor in heap while two more ended up bent double, hands braced against knees for support as they gasped in ragged lungfuls of air. The fourth, however, stayed upright although it was clear to see that this was taking effort. His breathing was strained as he fought to keep his body under control after his exertions on the course but there was an iron determination not to show weakness.

The two brothers faced off and the tension in the air became electric. The WASP officers stood back and gave them space, this was a family moment and any attempt to intervene would likely see them ending up as collateral damage.

Scott looked down on his younger brother but if he was expecting Gordon to be cowed into submission he was sorely mistaken. Even after the recent abuse it had endured, Gordon was keeping his body under tight control, back straight and shoulders broad. The toffee eyes that stared up at him blazed with a fury he hadn’t encountered before and Scott found himself drawing on every inch of his superior height to exert dominance. Blue and brown locked in an unspoken argument that was ferocious in it’s silence. Both men stood rigid, neither breaking the deadlock.

“Gordon, you’re going home.”

The instruction was measured and more deadly than any shout but Scott wasn’t entirely sure Gordon was going to comply. This was no longer the little brother he frequently had to pack off to bed or send to his room to complete homework. The man in front of him bristled with a hatred that radiated off him.

Gordon stared up into the crystal blue eyes, forcing his body to obey him and stay upright. The surge of rage that had swept in was helping in taking the place of the adrenalin that had ebbed after reaching the end of the course. He refused to bow down and give the submissive apology that was clearly expected. He also knew though that he was beaten. The very fact that Scott was there showed that he held the trump card and his falsified permission form had been exposed.

This was the end of the line for WASP but there was no point in giving Scott the satisfaction of winning; he would do this on his own terms. With eyes still locked on his brother he carefully slid the elastic cuff from his arm then turned and handed it out to the assessors.

“I voluntarily withdraw. Thank you for the opportunity.” With head held high, he stepped around Scott to the waiting jeep.

It was as though a spell had been broken. Released from that burning gaze Scott was suddenly aware that all eyes were on him. He took a steadying breath to regain his composure then also turned to the WASP officers.

“I’m sorry for the trouble my brother has caused.”

The officers just looked at him, speechless, still unsure as to what they had just witnessed. Their strongest candidate exposed as a child who had no right to be there. As Scott turned to leave he couldn’t help but see the number on the armband, still held in the officer’s outstretched hand.

Number 14.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #high expectations #my art #WASP #angry brothers #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #Jeff Tracy

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