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arsonistfriday · 1 year

Text

All Snuggled Up

Benchtrio and Michael_ have a sleepover together.

@mcytblrholidayexchange @violets-r-purple

You can also read on ao3 in the collection

Rain patters against the large windows, racing down from their placements, as if desperate to reach the ground. Snowchester rarely got rain, however with the arrival of Summer drying up the majority of the snow, it was finally warm enough for the droplets to remain instead of becoming snowflakes. Of course, it was still chilly due to being right next to an arctic biome, which sent gusts of frigid air into the trees, rattling their branches and dropping snow from them on to the ground. Summer was always nice, because it was never swelteringly hot unlike other locations, but it still brought life to the fragile ground and heavy rain.

Steam rises from the kettle methodically, increasing soon enough, and finally the kettle clicks and the steams returns to exiting slowly. Tubbo’s hand curls around the handle of the kettle and brings it to his teacup, which is decorated with small vines painted on by hand- it was a gift from Tommy, since Tommy loved creating for his friends, even if he’d stubbornly deny it if you brought it up to him. He sets the kettle back down into place and pours some milk in, along with two scoops of fresh honey into the liquid, watching as it dissolves and dips below the tea. He sets it gently on to a tray, along with some cookies that he’d baked yesterday with Ranboo and Michael.

He lifts the tray up in his hands and creeps out of the kitchen, not wearing his heavy boots anymore, which was saved for the harsh cold months. He pauses beside a bookshelf and reaches up carefully, his fingers curling around a book with a red and gold cover. He carries it under his arm and continues his journey across the mansion. Finally, after a long walk through hallways and up flights of stairs, he comes to a room. Sliding the door open ever so gently, he smiles. A tiny bed sits in the corner of the room, with fuzzy blue blankets covering the sleeping piglin child, Michael. With caution to avoid the toys scattered on the floor, Tubbo sits near the bed on a plump cushioned chair, setting his tray down on his lap. He takes his cup and sips from it, the hot but sweet mixture flowing into his mouth. He gulps slowly, savouring the taste of every mouthful he gathers. Finally, he sets the cup down on to the tray once more, turning to his book. It was in good condition despite how old it was, and the protagonists were painted on to the cover of it. He gently brushes his thumb along the pages, not yet opening it, but feeling the texture with such a delicacy that it was like it would fly away if he pressed any harder.

The blankets shift and he lifts his head to look at what had caused the movement. A puzzled smile crossed his lips as Tommy’s golden hair suddenly peeked out from under the blanket, catching his eyes. He laughs at Tommy’s face turning red.

“What are you doing here?” He’s still giggling even when asking this, having to put the book down a moment so he didn’t accidentally drop it and spook Michael.

“I’m not the only one,” Tommy mumbles. Sure enough, Ranboo’s head also rises out from under the blanket, and Tubbo keeps conscious of where his eyes are and where Ranboo’s are.

“Hey, Tubbo,” Ranboo greets with a sheepish smile, along with a tiny wave.

“You two still haven’t answered me: why are you both here?” Tubbo lightly wipes his hands along the bottom of his shirt, feeling the soft fabric between his fingers.

“Well, y’see, Michael really wanted us to come cuddle him. We’d been playing with him while you were busy, and then he got tired, so we decided to bring him to bed and he begged us to stay,” Tommy rambles, glancing to the still peacefully asleep Michael.

Ranboo nods with what Tommy says and adds on, “also, his bed is really comfy anyways, so we just couldn’t help it.”

Tubbo nods but he’s still snickering. Tommy and Ranboo glance away from him, and Tommy mutters under his breath about how annoying Tubbo is, but he’s trying to fight the smile that creeps up on his face. Neither had seen Tubbo this genuinely happy in a long while, so although they pretended to hate it- because they were being laughed at- they were so happy themselves.

Tubbo finally stops. “Would you two like it if I tucked you both in then? And read you a bedtime story?” He gestures to the book on the side. Ranboo nods, but Tommy takes time to consider it. Finally, though, he yawns and nods.

“Yeah, sure, why the fuck not?” Tommy lays back down and so does Ranboo. Tubbo tucks them in with the blanket up to their chests, then stamps a kiss on Michael’s head- the other two weren’t fans of affection.

He clears his throat and rests back into his chair, grabbing the book off from the side. He slowly opens it and begins to tell the story inside, occasionally pausing to look up at the two. His story that he chose today was about the main protagonist being stranded due to a storm collapsing his ship and separating him from his father. He meets another person, and together they work to achieve both of their goals, their friendship slowly growing over time.

Finally, he peeks up from the page he was on, light snoring heard from Tommy. Ranboo gave gentle warbles and his eyes were closed, too. Tubbo smiles and bookmarks the page he was on, standing. He ensures that the blanket is tucked up on all of them fairly, then exits the room and flicks the light off. He carries his tray back, which is now empty, and puts it on the side of the sink. He’ll wash it later.

He yawns and stretches his arms above his head, feeling his joints pop satisfyingly. The storm outside was still heavy, and the calming tap, tap, tap of rain against the windows was the only noise that accompanied Tubbo through the house, until he reached his own room.

It was a good night.

#mcytblrholidayexchange2022 #Dream SMP #c!Tubbo #c!Ranboo #c!Tommy #Michael_#Michael_Beloved #c!Benchtrio #Dream SMP Fanfic #c!Benchtrio Fanfic #my posts #my writing

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areus-in-a-little-cave · 2 years

Note

hello! for the drabbles thing, how about ctubbo playing with michael? or osmp!scott and sparklez getting into some mischief (intentionally or unintentionally, up to you)

Alright second prompt done :D I went with the c!tubbo and michael one, and it went over 1k by uh. well. well I hope you like it :D!!

---

For the Arctic, Tubbo had expected it to be a lot colder. Even as the wind bellowed against the windows and snow piled in front of the door, the inside was a burning haven of peace.

Things were very different from Snowchester. The snow fell heavy, for one, and was continuous. There were few hours in the day where it wasn't at least slightly snowing—and even then, the wind would be kicking it off the ground. Aside from that, the closest body of water was a river. Watching an oceanside sunset was no longer a possible pastime, not that Tubbo frequently did so.

But some things were still the same. Tubbo was still able to eat a hearty meal and tuck his son into bed. He was still able to fall asleep in his own soft bed, knowing he was safe for another night.

Alone, but safe.

It was enough, and Tubbo had always scraped by on enough.

He tried not to think about it. With the syndicate helping him settle, he wasn't in the mood for complaining. Like most mornings, Tubbo stomached his doubts and grit his teeth, ready to bear it for another day.

But unlike most mornings, Tubbo was greeted by a front door that wouldn't open.

He tried the button and—figuring the thing had simply broken as the door whined but didn't move—went to force it open. He'd be sure to thank Ghostboo for deciding that an iron door that opened outwards was perfect for below freezing temperatures and definitely didn’t sting like a bitch to press against.

The door didn’t budge an inch despite his best efforts, and as Tubbo noticed that his curtains were doing a surprisingly good job at keeping light out, the reality of the situation revealed itself to him. Tubbo ran upstairs as fast as he could, rushing over to his bedroom windows.

Much like he thought, and to his dismay, there was snow blocking the door.

At second glance, as his eyes adapted to the light of the morning sun, Tubbo realized it wasn’t just his door. Around his house all the way across the field to Phil and Techno’s cabins was a layer of snow at least six feet tall.

Ah.

That certainly soured his plans for the day.

Tubbo was quick to hurry over to his bedside table and grab his comm. He sent a message to Phil. Thankfully, the man was punctual enough that day, responding in just a moment.

Ph1lza - Hi m8

Tubbo_Beloved - o/

Ph1lza - o/

Tubbo_Beloved - I'm stuck in my house

Tubbo_Beloved - there's too much snow

Ph1lza - can't dig out?

Tubbo_Beloved - doors jammed

Ph1lza - K. In basement, probably have to dig out

Ph1lza - I’ll get you after

Tubbo sighed. As much as he trusted Phil to follow through, chances were it would take at least an hour for him to dig himself out, and even if he flew over the snow and just focused on giving Tubbo’s door enough room to open, it would likely still take most of the day. At least the hours with sunlight.

With reluctant acceptance of how things were going to go today, Tubbo set his comm down and made his way back to the stairs. It wasn’t the first time his plans had been thrown to the wind, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

His first priority was breakfast and waking up Michael. There were still things to do inside.

Michael's room wasn't very big and neither was the house, but all things considered, Tubbo thought it was for the best. Though the house in the commune was built for just one person, Tubbo had had no choice but to live there. With Dream free from prison, Sam and however many others looking for ways to control people—well, suffice to say that living around the blood god and the angel of death made people less likely to target Tubbo.

Besides, Snowchester felt far too empty to properly live in. Jack had run off, Foolish was back to work in the desert, Puffy was just never around. It wasn't a thriving commune anymore, and with everything going on, the last thing Tubbo needed was to have less access to people.

And the mansion itself was too empty. That home made for three would've been so much worse than a tiny house in the snow.

So Michael had a small room, something Tubbo had hastily dug out and decorated. It was warm at least, with a comfy bed and plenty of pillows. Michael didn’t seem to mind that it was dug into the mountainside that was the back wall of their house, as much like all mornings, Tubbo found the little guy peacefully resting.

Tubbo approached his son quietly, resting a hand on Michael's shoulder and gently shaking him awake. The boy blinked once then twice, slowly coming to as Tubbo gave him a soft smile.

"Morning, buddy."

Michael yawned softly and stretched, curling up in the warm red blanket.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

Michael didn't reply, simply grunting and burying his face in the soft fabric.

Tubbo ruffled the kid's hair. "Come on, it's a snow day. We can make something together."

At that, Michael shot up, tiredly doing his best to sign back a question.

"Snow day?"

Tubbo nodded. "Yeah, uh—we're not really going anywhere."

Michael smiled after a moment, sleepily giggling as he hopped out of bed, grabbing his dad's hand and dragging him out into the hall.

"Oh—okay! Okay!" Tubbo laughed, letting Michael drag him along to the kitchen. "We'll just make some pancakes, alright?"

Once the two were fed, and both fully awake, Tubbo stepped away from the table.

Even though they were trapped inside, that didn't mean the world would stop turning. There were farms in the basement that needed upgrades, and it had been a while since Tubbo had gone mining. Some new resources could certainly be helpful considering the state of most of his items. Not to mention that there were redstone machines Tubbo was considering making that needed to be planned out.

Tubbo began to clean up quickly, washing off plates and setting them back into the cupboards before turning for the stairs.

There was still a lot to do, even—

At the sound of knocking against wood, Tubbo turned again. At his spot at the table, Michael titled his head, his brow furrowed.

"I thought it was a snow day." Michael signed.

Tubbo nodded. "Yeah, there's too much snow to go out."

Michael only looked more confused. "Why are you going upstairs?"

Tubbo paused for a second, his hand lightly pressed to the railing, trying to understand what was bothering Michael. It wasn't like Tubbo never left the house to do work, he certainly wouldn't say the five year old had attachment issues. Even back at the mansion, back in Snowchester, Michael never complained when Tubbo left home.

Of course, snow days happened there every so often and Tubbo always liked to stay home with Michael during them, but…

Oh.

Michael didn't want Tubbo to leave since he always played games with his dad on snow days.

Tubbo took a step back from the stairs, letting his hand drop to his side.

Could he spend the day with Michael? It would be nice to relax but there were a lot of things that had to be done.

Granted, none of the chores or house maintenance needed to be immediately taken care of, but with his free time, Tubbo could easily get it all done.

But the world had basically forced him inside. It had forced him to slow down.

Maybe… maybe Tubbo could just relax for a day. It wouldn't be the end of the world, after all. And it would make Michael happy.

Tubbo forced a soft smile. "Well, I was just gonna get dressed. We can play hide and go seek after."

Michael smiled as well, quickly scoffing down the rest of his pancake and rushing out of his seat.

As ridiculous as it felt to spend the entire day playing games with a five year old, Tubbo couldn't find it in himself to dislike the decision. Michael was smiling, and the chores could wait.

Tubbo dressed quickly and hurried back downstairs to help Michael get dressed as well. Once they were both ready for their day, Michael tapped Tubbo on the face and gave a quick sign of "you're hunting!" before running off into the hall.

Tubbo sighed softly, covering his eyes as he counted to thirty. From elsewhere in the house, he could hear a sharp clattering, and he cringed as he could simply hope that wasn't any of his work-in-progress projects.

When he reached thirty, Tubbo stood and hurried off into the main room of the house. Michael had obviously gone into the workroom upstairs, if that noise was any indication, so Tubbo hurried up. He reached the room in seconds, looking around the small space.

There wasn't much there in the first place, mostly a desk, work table, and a few sliding drawers against the wall. Only a few places to hide.

Tubbo marched around slowly, putting just a little bit of extra weight down with each step on the quartz.

"Now," he hummed, "where is Michael?"

From just behind Tubbo, there was a little laugh, just enough air slipping through one's nose for him to hear.

Tubbo turned slowly, continuing to step sideways across the room. He eyed the work table and the sheet covering the sides with a barely contained smirk.

Tubbo approached the cupboards, bending down and opening one.

"Is he here?!" Tubbo loudly exclaimed, sighing dejectedly at the emptiness.

He waited a moment before continuing, repeating the search as he heard yet another giggle from the table.

Taking another minute to pace the room, Tubbo walked over to the door, letting out a loud groan.

"Guess he's downstairs." He mumbled, opening the door and shutting it.

After a few seconds, the table broke out in a fit of giggles. Tubbo wasted no time stepping as lightly as he could right over to it.

He let Michael think he'd succeed for just one more sweet second before he threw the cloth up, starling the boy underneath.

Michael yelped as Tubbo grabbed him, pulling him out from under the table and up into his arms.

"Hey!"

"I guess I found you." Tubbo laughed, ever so slightly pleased by the overdramatic frown on his son's face.

"You cheated!"

Tubbo chuckled as he lifted Michael up higher, setting the young piglin down on his shoulders. "Oh, I'm just so evil."

In some form of protest, Michael leaned back, letting himself fall against Tubbo's back. Thank Prime for Tubbo holding Michael by the legs when he did so, only straining for a moment to not drop the boy.

Michael huffed softly, earning another little laugh from Tubbo as he glanced over his shoulder.

"Do you want to be the hunter this time?"

Michael seemed to light up at the idea, and Tubbo set the boy down carefully.

Nearly instantly, Michael covered his face and Tubbo took a moment to realize he was meant to be running.

He was gonna do his very best, for sure.

A few knocks rang out against the metal door as the sun was just beginning to dim on the horizon, starling Tubbo from where he sat in Michael's bed.

He stood, setting down his book and hot chocolate with the promise he'd be back in just one moment.

Outside the door was Phil, who offered a gentle smile underneath his scarf and patterned toque. In one hand was a large rectangular shovel, and every part of him from his coat to his wing covers looked like they'd been dusted in snow. But there was a large gap in the snow that allowed Tubbo to open the door.

"Phil!" Tubbo cheered, looking at the snow wall. "Thank you boss man, really."

"Yeah, 'course mate. You two doing alright in there?"

Tubbo nodded.

"Glad to hear it." Phil glanced at the snow, reaching out to tap it with his knuckles. "This is really why you need a roof that isn't flat and actually goes over the front of your house."

Tubbo chuckled awkwardly, shrugging a little. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that.”

“Need any help with resources or planning?”

Tubbo paused for a moment, considering his options before shaking his head. “No, I’m reading with Michael right now. I’ll get to it later.”

Phil nodded and headed off, leaving Tubbo standing in his cold doorway for a few moments. He closed the door with a sigh, turning and walking back to Michael’s little bedroom.

The boy was all curled up in his blankets, shyly sipping on the steaming cup of cocoa. He smiled softly when Tubbo entered, and Tubbo smiled back, crawling up in the small bed next to him and picking the book back up.

“Alright, where were we?”

#long post #areus drabble #tubbo #michael_beloved #dsmp #dsmp fanfic #ask #ask box #thank you for the ask!#ellieloves2read #mutuals tag!!!

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the-multiverse-theory · 1 year

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a blizzard rages through snowchester, enveloping the sky, the sea, the commune, while tubbo and ranboo talk about their feelings in vague metaphors and loaded questions. they are tired. the fireplace is lit. the night is long.

(this was written for Greetings From Snowchester: A Beeduo Zine and you can read the full thing here!)

#dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #c!beeduo #cat writes (yippee!)#cat’s in a zine!

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prismartist · 2 years

Text

webs are made of soft silk

// cw alcoholism and drug use

a hypothetical involving quackity, post-Las Nevadas finale

Ao3

---

The neon jungle towers around you as you enter, hypnotizing and entrancing. And overwhelming, compared to the monotone palette of Snowchester. You squint as the harsh light hits, but still you don’t turn away. Instead, you let them and the familiar, acrid stench of cigarette smoke, alcohol, and regret draw you further in, like an insect being caught in a spider’s web. You bump against people unapologetically drunk on euphoria, wrestling past other victims. You pick up a shot or two on the way, as well as an hors d'oeuvre. The olive’s skin snaps under your brittle teeth, and annoyingly, a bit of the juice dribbles down your chin. You wipe it off, leaving a stain on the wool of your sleeve. The first of many, you’re sure.

You’re not sure what you’re looking for until you bump into familiar orange fur, jostling the drink in their paw. It’s Fundy, dull beady black eyes widening upon seeing you. His other paw is busy with the arcade machine in front of him, flashing mismatched (worthless) symbols. He greets you, a bit more lilt to his accent than usual, and out of habit, you greet back. He offers some drinks, and you can’t find it in yourself to refuse. You can tell the glowstone is stronger in these ones, as well as the redstone, but hey, at least the glow under your skin’s pretty.

You end up talking for the rest of the night. The usual chit-chat of catching up between two old coworkers. Of course, between the drinking and getting high, you won’t remember any of the actual conversation, even forgetting what you’ve just said minutes after you’ve said it. Just muffled and warped syllables that amount to nothing. You’ll wonder if it’s because your conversation really is that boring, but considering how absolutely trashed you are and the feeling of tears streaking your cheeks, that probably isn’t the case.

(There’s only one exchange you’ll remember clearly, before the alcohol sets in, and it’s this:

“How’s Ranboo?”

Pause.

“Oh. Right,” Fundy says, then takes another shot. You’re glad you don’t have to answer.)

The two of you then run into the Master of the House himself: Quackity, pressed pristine suit a juxtaposition to Fundy’s crumpled and stained one. You probably don’t look all that different yourself; you faintly remember dropping an hor d'oeuvre on your jacket just a minute before—or was that an hour ago?

Quackity smiles despite the way he wrinkles his nose, greets you with gusto and gives a narrow eye to Fundy. He goes to say something else, but halts, raking his eyes over your glowing skin. He looks almost concerned. Then his gaze stops on your faces, and asks if you’ve been crying. You might’ve been, at one point.

But instead of saying anything he brings you over to a table in a darker, quiet corner, far from the machines, and tells you to relax. Quackity sets a hand upon the itching paw of Fundy, who turns from the direction of the casino to focus on him. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, as if the screens were still reflecting off them. Quackity tells him, again, to relax. He says it like an order, and Fundy obeys like the good follower you know him to be, slouching against headboard.

Quackity gives you more potions. He drinks with you, the spider of the web—or is he another one of its victims? An insect that’s made itself useful enough to not get eaten? Do spiders, like their prey, get drunk on their own venom?

Fundy asks something about his pay being docked. Quackity waves him off, tells him not to worry, he won’t dock shit, and for the first time you notice the slight sluggishness in his movement. Maybe he’s drunk too, though the smell of alcohol doesn’t seem to come from his breath. Or maybe he’s just tired, though it seems uncharacteristic. There’s something said about breaks and “making sure to maintain the health of my employees”, or something along those lines. It sticks with you, for whatever reason. You suppose it makes sense; healthier meals mean a healthier spider.

The quieting of machines ringing or substance-infused laughter is jarring, but it helps clear your head. After a long silence, during which you realize you’re drinking plain healing potions, you start talking again. At one point Quackity asks about your whole Revengers schtick with Techno and Eret, and you indulge him. He also asks Fundy how the meetup with Wilbur went, but he doesn’t answer, and Quackity doesn’t push.

You still won’t remember the specifics much, but you’ll remember enjoying yourself. The clattering and clanking of the bright machines fades to the background, and you might’ve forgotten them altogether. Judging by the way Fundy gradually starts to untense, he feels the same way.

The euphoria gives way to a drowsiness, and the lights of the casino dim as does your brain. You’ll remember Quackity calling over someone—Foolish? It sounded vaguely like Foolish—and a gentle lift. You’ll wake up in an unfamiliar basement, and you’ll think with a jolt of panic that you’ve been kidnapped, until you see your host, the spider caught in his own web, slumped in a chair to the side, his face completely blank as he sleeps. There’s a nagging niggling at the back of your head, and you’ll wonder, with a strange creeping curiosity, what’s changed?

It’s probably the hangover.

#dream smp #dsmp #quackity #tubbo #fundy #dsmp fanfiction #dsmp fanfic #mcyt #smthnsmthn q is still so complicated he'll still do most anything to keep his casino alive but he'll try to care he'll try to heal #prismatic writing #alcohol tw #drugs tw #implied death tw #cursing #shoutout to the mech/anisms for injecting me with so much gritty edgy stuff to replicate here

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infinitethree · 2 years

Note

Message for cookie Dream!! I need to order a batch of cookies for someone by the name of Daz!! Please do not put you signature on the box, he might freak out if he knows who the baker is. Or have Niki or Michael (or Michael) make it!!

Dream blinks once, twice, and then shrugs. “Sure, okay.”

He learned a long time ago to stop asking questions. Actually, the time when he might have questioned this sort of thing feels fuzzy and indistinct, like a dream (hah) he’s trying to remember after he’s been up for a while.

In another life, he might have been upset by that loss of curiosity. But here, in this life…he can’t really miss it much.

Not when his life is willingly spent in a kitchen, with his friends (and fellow cookie-bakers), Michael, Michael, and Niki. He wanders, sometimes, drawn by the Snowchester Mansion giving a tug to greet new arrivals and offer them cookies.

…Cookies that somehow, along the way, became the currency in this place. Some people went a little…odd here, but frankly, Dream still doesn’t understand why they want to leave.

Outside is misery, pain, and loneliness. Inside is safety, comfort, and people who are there for you. Are some of them there to literally film you and everyone you know, or see how likely you are to be swindled out of your cookies? Sure, of course. Nothing is perfect. But those things are far better than the alternative–that being isolated, miserable, and afraid.

…He’s also found a way to make amends with everyone he hurt–and who hurt him–in here. The Mansion was…a little strange, and the people who stopped by every so often were odder, but–

The thought makes him pause. Ah, that’s where he knows that name from. The Sanctuary people are nice, though he suspects they could quickly become not nice if they wanted to be.

Lee is a sweet kid. He’s only stopped by in person a few times, but those were memorable occasions. It’s nice to hear the curious chatter of a kid, even if Dream was significantly less thrilled about the very unsubtle way that he and everyone else were watched to make sure nothing happened.

Then again, he doesn’t know what it’s like to be a dad or brother. Maybe that’s just how families are.

He hums softly to himself as he busies himself with making cookies. While he’s not positive exactly what Daz’s favorite cookies are, he thinks he remembers it being mentioned once. Dark chocolate and orange shortbread, he’s pretty sure.

Actually, he’s not sure if the guy had come over in person, or if he’s just been talked about by others. It’s not out of the realm of possibility; he’s heard quite a bit about several of the people from the other reality over the years.

Dream and the other Cookie Bearers have remained very happy about the influx of ingredients they otherwise wouldn’t have access to, as well as the high quality cookware and redstone contraptions.

Doing more of what he already had been doing (and what made him happy) in exchange for those is, as far Dream is concerned, more than worth it.

The familiar rhythm of measuring, mixing, and portioning the dough makes him smile a little. It’s a soothing ritual, one he wouldn’t give up for anything.

He makes cookies, and those cookies make people happy. Making people happy makes him happy.

As they bake, it occurs to him that he has no idea how the cookies are going to get to Daz.

He frowns slightly and withdraws his sturdy com to send a message out.

CookieDream: I got an order for Daz? It's pretty much done, but I'm not sure how to send them over.

DrViolet: shouldn't you be asking whoever ordered them?

CookieDream: it was just a voice

DrViolet: ah. I see.

DrViolet: I'll send someone to get them, then.

That taken care of, Dream starts pulling the ingredients to make the next batch of cookies.

There are only so many hours in a day, after all, and he does need to sleep eventually.

#asked&answered #DoctorViolet #CookieDream #long post #chronotag #I'm not dead things have just been A Lot Lately #moving is. a time. and the weather is bad.#...and also I may have a probably unwise amount of words in some bastard lad branch timelines #listen it's like comfort food. I don't know why. it just is.#I am trying to work on fics + asks it's just hard to wrangle my muse into cooperating

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rheagodlywrites · 2 years

Text

YOU LIAR! LIAR! LIAR!

George is obsessed with the idea of Dream. Especially after being asleep for so long. When he becomes aware that Dream has tried to kill Tommy again, he doesn’t believe it. Who would believe any of that.

“Dream has what?” George questioned as Sapnap placed his hands on his shoulders. Sapnap has never looked anymore serious in his life. George had slept for who knows how long. He was awake for periods at a time but never long enough to know what happened around him. Sapnap has filled him in of everything. Every last detail that has happened in the last three years. George tried to soak it in but one thing stood out. Dream was in prison and has escaped. George thought that it was bullshit of course. He’s seen Dream not that long ago. Hell, Dream gave him some armor too! He knows he was awake too since the armor is still in his chest.

“Sapnap stop fucking around. He’s not in prison. He never was.” Sapnap glared at George hard. As if the state was to poke some truth into the bubble of lies that George put himself in.

“George..you still care about him don’t you?” Sapnap let him go as if to give them space away from each other.

“Of course. He’s my best friend along with you. Why shouldn’t I?”

“HE DOESN’T CARE ABOUT US, GEORGE!” Sapnap bursted out. Fire flared up on his head but he shook his head. Sapnap looked at his friend with worry.

“George, he only cares about the power he can get from people. He’s a manipulative bitch and I can’t believe you candy see that!” Sapnap was frustrated with his sleepyhead friend. George scoffed and rolled his eyes facing away.

“Well Dream’s OUR friend. Why would we just turn on him?” George argued.

“We can because he has! He doesn’t care about us anymore! He’s stopped caring about us the day he decided to try and obtain more power over people.” Sapnap explained. Sapnap put his hands on George’s shoulders almost shaking him. All George could do was give him a look of disgust. He would never turn on his best friend.

“Don’t tell me who to care about or not care about. I don’t wanna hear that from someone who’s lost a fiancé.” This broke Sapnap as he let go of him. Sapnap turned away as the fire in his heart burned with anger.

“You get your ass in check before you wanna check mine.” Sapnap left him with those words. George shook off the guilt he felt and left to find Dream. He knew that Dream wouldn’t be easy to find but maybe with some help..

“Hey XD?” George asked. The god appeared before him with Dreams face. A smile placed carefully on the face of Dream.

“Hello George. Need something?”

“Yeah. Do you have any idea where to look for Dream?”

XD took a moment before responding.

“Check Snowchester. I think he’s been there.”

“Thank you. Can I have some armor? I left mine at my house.” XD gave up armor to George and left him. George traveled to the nation and poked around the place. He knocked on Tubbo’s door only to be greeted by Ranboo.

“Ranboo! Is Tubbo here? I want to ask him something.” Ranboo wasn’t sure what to say but Tubbo was coming down the ladder. George pushed past Ranboo and went up to Tubbo with a grin.

“Hey Tubbo. What’s with the face?” He asked. Tubbo had a grim look on his face and didn’t seem to be in the mood.

“Go away George. Go back to your manipulative bitch boyfriend.” Tubbo cursed. This caused a twinge of anger to spike in him but George ignored it.

“I’m actually looking for Dream. Have you seen him? I heard he was here.” Tubbo growled angry at the mentioning of his name.

“Damn right he was here! Dream almost killed Tommy again!”

George was..well confused to say the least. Why would Tubbo lie?

“You don’t have to lie, Tubbo. Dream would never do something like that.” George was sure of himself. Tubbo scoffed at him.

“Then go and look for yourself. Tommy’s upstairs half alive because of him.” Tubbo lead George up. When they got to the room, George stared at Tommy’s body. Tubbo wasn’t lying but it just wasn’t processing correctly. George stared and stared at his body then chose to pull his sword.

“Tommy is faking it. My Dream would never do such a thing. I’ll prove it.” George was about to attack Tommy but things went black.

When George woke up…he was in a bed sitting in his sweat.

“What?..What?” George looked around. He was still in his house. The incident that happened months ago still haunts him. The day he slaughtered Tubbo and Tommy. And anyone else who tried to tell him that Dream was insane. Tubbo and Tommy were gone. Everyone else he killed had their lives but Dream..was still nowhere to be found.

“Dream.. your memory is like a poison to my mind..”

#writing #fiction #fanfic #fantasy #minecraft #dsmp #angst #dream #dream smp #georgenotfound #dream angst #dsmp tommy #dsmp gogy #dsmp dnf

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tiredstudentsworld · 2 years

Text

WARNING ⚠️- LOTS OF SPELLING AND GRAMMAR MISTAKES. MENTIONS OF DEATH AND ABUSE. SWEARING. POOR WRITING FIRST FIC. ⚠️

.....

Sighing I rub the sleep out of my dull lifeless eyes. Greasy matted hair sat slightly hanging over my eyes. My legs ache as walk around the backroom of niki cafe. Vigilantes sit at tables chatting as well as a few heros. Now you may be confused let me explain. I tommy careful danger kraken innit ( yes that is my real name ) the biggest of all men and is definitely 18 and not 14. Works at the best and only neutral cafe as in our world we were all blessed by prime and XD with powers some are hybrid some have powers and some both like me but we will get into that later. yes there are other neutral areas like Las Nevada’s or snowchester but niki's isn't a casino or home to a nuclear program run by a mentally unstable Vigilante named bee and his partner and apparently husband ( tho they may be rumors) Ender. Niki's is a warm comforting cafe with large sofas and smooth oak tables always smelling sweet with flowers lining the wall since her wife puffy or captain as I call her gas power of nature and healing she works as a therapist. It's truly great, best place in manberg.

Anyway I'm working full time at niki's to pay for rent after running away from the foster system at age 13 it had only been 3 years in Foster care after the ... accident and I had just been in a particularly abusive house hold not like its the first time or anything just this was by far the worst my social worker sam nook dropped me off hopefully and optimistic that this one was the one. Boy was he wrong. The green bastard name was clay he lulled me in with presents hugs and promises of protection. It was only a month later he revealed to me he was the top hero dream. I was ecstatic I thought it was so cool as heros as we were taught are brave strong and most importantly supposed to help and protective. News flash, that's all Bullshit.

It was only a day later when everything changed. It was like a flip had switched. Suddenly I was too loud,too annoying, too messy and I had to be punished. ⚠️ abuse in next part if it's triggering or too much skip past⚠️ I was late for home I was just at the library hanging out with Freddie and eryn friends from school when I got back, let's just say dream was more than pissed. As I entered the door greeted with a harsh slap the the face making me cheeks burn. Lost for words in shock and surprise I stood there mouth a gape. Pulled out of my trance by a kick to the stomach I fell to the floor gasping for air as more and more kicks where delivered to my side as I curled up on the cold floor. Salty tears drowned my face as dream yelled at me words packed with vemon and hatred " you useless pice of shit" " how dare you be so ungrateful making me worried for no reason except you bieng a useless brat " " answer me you little shit". Stuttering I found it hard to find my words as rough hands grabbed fist full of hair gorging my head up to look into his emotionless green eyes" I.. I...I'm s ...sorry d...dream I didn't mean t..t..to " I don't remember much after that except a dangerous glint in his eye before a sharp pain in my head as black dots taunted me dancing in my vision as I passed out. I woke up 2 days later chained in a basement dried blood covering my skin and hair freezing in the cold. That day my hatred for heros became known that day I knew I would become a vigilante one day. That day I only had one goal in mind. The heros had to go.

........

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE THIS STORY IF YOU ENJOYED AND I PROMISE TO START WRITING IT AGAIN AFTER MY EXAMS. HOPE YOU ENJOYED AND I GET TO CONTINUE WRITING

#dream smp #tommyinnit #fiction #vigilante #niki nihachu #abuse tw #writer doesn't know tags #new writer #tommyinnit needs a hug #tommy has ptsd #author is sleep deprived

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tickley-totem · 2 years

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Blue was walking around the SMP, she was new to this world and… was very lost, she gave an annoyed grown from under her mask. She was supper to be in a place called Snowchester but she was in a literal desert! “Where the hell am I…” she mumbled looking for any landmarks her hair was up in a bun from the heat and her thin sweater sleeves were rolled up as far as they could go. Someone had to be around to help her… right?

Foolish was tired. No, not tired. Exhausted. He had been building all day, working on a fancy tower made of sandstone to add the aesthetic of his desert home. He knew that he really needed to take a break, but he couldn’t! He was laser-focused on this, and with the sun setting behind him, he knew he could definitely get this done… give or take a couple of hours.

The totem hybrid yawned, grabbing more sandstone from a chest and starting to carry it towards his tower. He could barely keep his eyes open, and wasn’t even sure if he was walking in the right direction. Foolish closed his eyes for a second while walking to get in a quick three second power nap, but then, as he opened his eyes, he saw someone in front of him, with their back turned. Foolish yelled, startled by the stranger, and nearly dropped the sandstone he was holding. Who was this person?

“Uh… hey, stranger!” He tiredly greeted.

[ @blueblad-2222 ]

#blue tag!#🦈

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doodlebloo · 1 year

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hihello bloo doodlebloo do you have any michael b fic recs?

Hello anon! :] Here are a few off the top of my head:

Chrysopoeia by shinlouvie - Technoblade meets Michael_B and gives Ranboo and Tubbo some advice, this fic is sooo sweet and lovely <333

New family who dis by orphan_account - another fic about Michael meeting Techno and Phil, very sweet

The Life and Times of Michael Underscore-Beloved by ImperialKatwala - Slice of life fic about Michael and basically the whole ensemble cast, very sweet and pretty long!

Also, not necessarily a fic and technically a self promo, but the Greetings From Snowchester zine has a TON of fluffy domestic Michael_B content made by some incredibly talented authors and artists, if you haven't checked it out yet I'd highly recommend it! (Any proceeds go to the Sarcoma Foundation :])

#srry this list was short i had to leave for dinner </333 #asks #anon

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sunlitmcgee · 8 months

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smthn to make you happy :]

His hair had grown longer, reaching slightly past his shoulders and he hardly ever wore his crown anymore. He also outgrew his old suit and instead went for warm, comfy clothing. In Snowchester he’d wear protective gear so that the snow didn’t harm his skin, usually carrying his umbrella with him. His cloak had fur on the inside, keeping him comfortable. In any other place that's warm, he would wear just a shirt and long trousers. Michael likes to tie ribbons on his tail, and he didn’t mind much. His wedding ring from all that time ago was always on his finger, except at night before him and Tubbo went to sleep.

In the time between then and now, Ranboo learned the truth of himself and his heritage; he was an Ender-born prince, born to two loving mothers who were the guardians of the End realm. He had somehow forgotten who he was when he stumbled out of the End and into the Overworld, wandering aimlessly until he found the place he currently resides in. It wasn’t long after Dream died that he remembered, and he sent a letter to his mothers, telling them that he was okay and that he loved them and where he was. Tubbo, Foolish and Sam worked together to create an End portal (extracting the Ender pearls successfully without harming his own kind, thank goodness) and Ranboo had stepped through the other side, greeting his parents for the first time in years.

They kissed his cheeks and embraced him, settling him down in their castle hearing all about him and his adventures. He told them everything, how he was under control by the worst person to have ever lived, how he met Tommy first and became his best friend, and fell in love with Tubbo and married him. His mothers were saddened and angered by what Dream had done, but grateful that their son was alive and safe. They explained how they tried desperately to search for him, but to no avail. Unfortunately, no one knew the answer.

After his visit, he said he’d send letters through his counsel as much as he could, and would visit them a few times per month, as he was still a father and had a baby back home to watch after. His mothers nodded in agreement, overjoyed that they were grandparents.

“Ranboo, I’m home!” he heard Tubbo shout. Ranboo put down his quill, standing up and running down the steps of their too-big home, to his darling Tubbo. He saw Tubbo sitting by the front door, taking off his snow boots and coat and putting them away, and he walked over to him.

“Hey, how was your walk?” Ranboo asked.

“It was good. I feel a lot better now,” Tubbo smiled.

Ranboo cupped Tubbo’s face in his hands, kissing him warmly. Tubbo wrapped his arms around him.

Oh, how Ranboo loved him.

They separated, walking towards the living room together.

wehh :)

#ask

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